Deccan Herald - Sunday-Sunday Herald

My first year of college was a very lonely time. Living in the town of Indore, far away from home, I felt disconnected. My only communication with home was a monthly letter that I wrote and posted, and a reply that my father sent.

Things changed in the second year — a new concept called a PCO booth had begun to spread in Indore. These places let you make phone calls — yes, even to other towns! — for a fee, and what was more, they charged 1/4th of the daytime rates if you called after 11 in the night. For the remainder of my college years, I was a connoisseur of PCO booths in my area. It was only later that I found who was responsible for this magical innovation.

It was a man named Sam Pitroda. Pitroda, an NRI settled in the US, had come to visit India in the 80s. He found that he could not phone his wife back in Chicago, and resolved to strengthen India's telecommunications network. Thanks to his experience in the field, C-DOT was set up in 1984. Over the next decade, phones became more commonplace. By the 90s, they were available in small towns, too. And, every street corner shop had one.

Pitroda is not an outlier in the way he came back to contribute to India. The last few decades have seen a sea change in the place of NRIs, or Non Resident Indians, in Indian society. Where they were forgotten by all except for the family they infrequently visited, now they are taking a larger role in the nation. The change has not been made apparent, though. This is partly because we tend to club all types of emigration into one bucket and treat it the same. But there have been at least three separate waves of emigration, for very different reasons, over the past century, from India. Let's look at them separately.

The first kind was forced emigration. During British rule, Indians were shipped abroad to work as labourers in plantations all over the world. When the world wars came around, we were shipped as cannon fodder for the front lines in Europe and Asia. These 'NRIs' became 'PIOs' (Persons of Indian Origins), and rarely if ever, managed to come back to their homeland. Instead, they branched off into a new culture that was a mix of Indian and local culture. This phenomenon was enabled by colonialism, and has thankfully died out today. The people who were affected by these forced moves are now long gone, and their descendants have now integrated into those societies.

In this century, there has been a second wave of voluntary emigrants for primarily economic reasons. Simply put, there are unskilled or semi-skilled job opportunities in rich countries that pay many times what the Indian market can pay. Often there's a coupling of specific states with destinations. So Keralites, for example, have a strong affinity for emigrating to the Gulf countries. Punjabis have preferred Canada. And Gujarati Patels have chosen the motel industry in the USA. This kind of emigration is the most commonly recognised stereotype. When Donald Trump and the British politicians talk about stopping immigration, this is the kind they mean.

There's a third kind, which isn't discussed as much. It's the specialised skills-based emigration, and the dominant direction here has been from India and China, to the US and Europe. The process usually starts with going abroad for higher studies, and then moving on to job opportunities. The software engineers you know, who post on your Facebook timeline regularly about their visits to American national parks, are part of this trend. By some counts, more than half of Silicon Valley are immigrants from India and China. There's an overlap between this category and the previous one, but the technical education angle is unique here. It has really caught on only in the last three decades, fired up by the rise of the software industry worldwide.

Dinesh (name changed), one of these skills-based migrants, shares his story: "I went to the US to do my Masters in the late 90s. Hadn't originally planned to stay, but the job market was bad in India in the early 2000s, and I stuck on here. Then marriage, a home, a child, happened. It was just a case of one anchor being heavier than the other. I've been in Atlanta for the last 15 years now.

"When I first went there, Indians were few and far between. Of late, there has been a sharp rise in their numbers. I can see them everywhere. And I see more and more Indian parents visiting, pushing along prams in the evenings. We're a significant minority now."

Brain drain

The dominant narrative in the 70s and 80s in India was that all emigration was 'brain drain', that we were losing all our best people to foreign countries, and that India would never progress as long as that kept happening. Movies like Ek Doctor Ki Maut talked of how the best Indian minds were pushed to emigrate because of the inefficiency and corruption in India. People were lost, the zeitgeist went, once they left the country. However, the last two decades have proven this narrative wrong, sometimes in surprising ways. Indians do love their country, it turns out, and they've shown it in myriad ways.

Descendants of forced emigrants have maintained their connection with the country in any way they can. The more affluent ones have returned to re-establish their roots. Others have paved the way for a cultural acceptance of India in the places they settled in. So, the West Indies, Mauritius, Singapore, and parts of Africa have that India-inspired cuisine, language, and a familiarity with our customs and traditions. Many have taken up India's open invitation to PIOs to reconnect. Others will make it a point to marry within their community back home in India to keep up the relationship.

Economic migrants have had a big impact on their hometown areas through remittances. World Bank data shows that remittance inflows to India in the last few years have been about $70 billion per year, which is about 4 lakh crores. Compare this to the entire Indian government budget of 19 lakh crores this year. The communities that benefitted have seen startling changes. Kerala, an early recipient of remittances from the Gulf, has had the highest literacy rates and the second-lowest poverty rates in India. Punjab and Gujarat, traditionally business-oriented states, have had their fortunes boosted by their NRIs. The money is remitted to their families, but of course, it begins to circulate in the economy and boosts it.

But the latest wave of skill-based emigration — the so-called 'H1B' immigrants, largely software engineers, have triggered a virtual revolution in India's economy. Out of thousands of examples, I'll select one: Dr Anand Deshpande. He completed his education at Indiana University and took up at job at Palo Alto in the late 80s. Sensing an opportunity in India, he returned and founded Persistent Systems in Pune in 1990. Today, it is one of India's best-regarded services companies, employs over 6,000 people, and has steadily moved up the value chain in the software space.

Or, consider other industries like food products. The sisters Suhasini and Anindita Sampath, inspired by the health bars they saw during their stay in the US, founded Yoga Bars in Bengaluru. Today, it's one of the notable health food brands in India. Several popular restaurateurs are returned NRIs.

By some metrics, the current software start-up revolution, going on in India, can be traced to the first generation of software engineers who went 'on-site' to the US and Europe through service companies.

Not all benefits are in the corporate universe. In 1990, a small group of Indian students at UC Berkeley decided to start a group dedicated to helping children in India. After much discussion, they decided to focus on children's education. Most of their initial funding came from US college students and NRIs. Today, this group, known as Asha, has more than 50 chapters spread across the US, Europe, and India. A 1,000-plus volunteers have mobilised funds to complete 400 projects, across 23 Indian states. The culture of social awareness and giving back, prevalent in the western world, has had a fillip from our travellers.

Living in another country exposes one to new viewpoints and cultures. This varied experience, especially when gained in a developed country, can be brought back to one's homeland.

On the flip side

Not all is positive about the NRI phenomenon. There is a sizeable proportion of Indian migrants who make their adopted home their own and never look back. Who can blame them, with the multiple negatives of life in India? And the public perception about NRIs here often puts a burden on them. But, life isn't really easy in the US, either. Dinesh says ruefully, "Latent racism and fitting in is a real problem in the US." Dinesh has continued to write on his blog and on web forums about Indian movies and music, and makes it a point to pick up the latest books whenever he visits home. In these ways, he's very much the typical NRI.

The intellectual and financial heft of the NRI market has changed some things about India. PIOs and Pravasi Bharatiya Divas are priorities for the government, which recognises that this section of Indians wants to be involved with their motherland. As more Indians return with first-world experience, they demand the same quality of service and professionalism from businesses here. They are willing to pay a premium for well-made global cuisine and products. They take up teaching positions in colleges and consultancies at hospitals and corporates, utilising the high-quality experience they have gained.

On a lighter note, some film-makers are making NRIs the theme and target market of their films. As more international brands of fast food make their way to India, returned NRIs are often their early adopters.

Those who left India for global destinations are no less Indian than those who stayed behind. They have the same wish to help the country, if only they are enabled to do so. India gains from their experience and skills, not to mention finances. This is not a zero-sum game: it is quite doable for returning NRIs to gain for themselves from the newfound interest that India has in them. It's the very definition of win-win.

It was a choice made six years ago, and Pierre Marquis is happy with it. Despite his parents' apprehensions, the young businessman decided to move to India.

"With the market opening up, it was offering up immense possibilities not just for its own countrymen, but even for outsiders like me," he says. Little wonder then that the 30-year-old Parisian is among an increasing number of expatriates who are choosing to come to India not as tourists, but to work and live here. Fascinated not just by the exotica it offers, they also want to be part of its current booming economy.

Of course, down the years, there have always been Indophiles like Mark Tully and William Dalrymple (who, in a Yasmin Kidwai's film, India By Choice, calls himself a 'Scottish Punjabi') who have made the country their home. But their numbers were few and far between. "That's no longer the case, especially because India's challenging market is irresistible for professionals like me," says Marquis, who touched down in Delhi after having spent over a year in China. "I was expecting a similar experience here, after all, both are great powers of Asia," he says. But what has made his India-experience special is the fact that "almost everyone speaks English here, unlike in China, hence getting around is easy," adds Marquis, who initially had planned to stay in India for just about a year.

"It's been six and I could be staying longer," he adds. And it's not just work alone that will keep him busy. With its many festivals — and consequently a good number of holidays — Marquis gets enough time to indulge in his other passion — travelling. "India's changing environment is great not just on the professional front, but even its infrastructure, with more airports, air links and cheaper fares, has made travelling easier and enjoyable — stuff that makes you want to stay on and explore."

And the country's pollution levels are no deterrent. "When the smog levels go up, I simply pick up a face mask for myself," he says. "And that's something everyone here should do, not just expats."

Agrees Attila Lendvai, who's happy that he's fast getting acclimatised to the Indian weather and way of life. "Much before I got married to my Indian girlfriend this year, I had decided to make India my home," says the Swede national who would "follow the right procedure and get an Indian nationality too, if it's allowed." What got him hooked onto India were the diverse opportunities that he sees opening up for him. "And the fact that it's so different from Europe and the environment I have been used to, is what makes it all the more challenging," says the 60-year-old business and marketing expert who spends a few hours every morning tending to his plants and a little garden he's set up on the terrace of his flat.

Even the numerous wedding functions in his neighbourhood with their blaring music do not bother him. "It just shows they're having fun. And in any case, I believe in the adage, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'," states Lendvai, who is mulling over several business ideas with his nutritionist wife Meghna. "My work here is most likely to be related to food — like opening a bakery," he smiles. Interior decoration or small water-treatment patterns that have been his forte back home could be some of the other options. Lendvai laughs talking about how his Swedish and Hungarian friends have been asking him the same question for the past one year since he decided to move here — why India? "I have a simple answer to that — when you're past middle age, it's time to start afresh, in a challenging new environment. And so, what better place than India?"

This happy mix of the modern (from its rising standards in infrastructure and civic amenities to medical facilities) and the exotic (many still romanticise it as a land of elephants and snake charmers), besides the opening market is what is working well for India, says Jack Leenars, who first came here as the South Asia correspondent for De Telegraaf, a Dutch newspaper. "I'd always been keen on working in India and hence sought this posting here," he says. And then, after about six years, he suddenly bid adieu to assignments and deadlines to do something entirely different — organising bicycle tours. "Everyone thought I'd gone insane, saying nobody is going to be excited about bicycles," smiles Leenars. But he proved them wrong because, as he says, "Bicycles are part of our culture — they're such a good way to connect with both people and places."

And now, with a team of 25 people and a fleet 85 bicycles, Leenars's Delhi ByCycle offers five different tours of the city with a chai stop in-between. "It's just a great way to reach out to each other and makes us all one with the local life here," he says.

Lately, there's been a little change in Leenars's home address, since he's shifted base to Goa. "And no, it's nothing to do with the pollution levels of Delhi, but the need to shift out of a metropolis to a smaller city — to give a better quality of life to my children," he explains. Of course, the shift hasn't affected work. "I am travelling back and forth all the time, and with a big team to help me, work carries on." Ask him if, being a foreigner, he's faced any security issues and Leenars shakes his head. "Never. On the contrary, we get a lot of respect and support. And my Hindi — it's not as good as my children's (who go to Indian schools in Goa) — gets me by as one of the crowd."

India is among the most happening of countries right now, concedes Marie Abbo, who, as a marketing professor at a business school in France, had to organise an international training programme over 12 years ago. "When I was given a choice between India and China, I chose the former," says Abbo, whose decision was prompted by the fact that she knew a bit of Sanskrit and that India was a democracy. "This form of government helps in promoting free discussion. And at the MBA level, that is what I was interested in — a free exchange of ideas among students."

Abbo has since been coming to India with her French students and staying here for three months at a stretch. "I wanted both my French as well as Indian vidyarthis to experiment with life, and not just exams, in each other's countries," explains the 59-year-old who has alongside completed her PhD at the Delhi University on the alliance between NGOs and brands.

After calling it quits from her job as a professor, Abbo is now working to set up her own company that will bring in skin-care products and brands into India. "I want to keep my association with this country going," she adds. "It's not just work and the professional attitudes that will keep it alive, but even my love for aloo tikki and paneer. After all, where else will I get the amazing flavours I get here?" she asks with a laugh.

This happy mix of the modern (from its rising standards in infrastructure and civic amenities to medical facilities) and the exotic (many still romanticise it as a land of elephants and snake charmers), besides the opening market, is what is working well for India, says Jack Leenars, who first came here as the South Asia correspondent for De Telegraaf, a Dutch newspaper.

"I'd always been keen on working in India and hence sought this posting here," he says. And then, after about six years, he suddenly bid adieu to assignments and deadlines to do something entirely different — organising bicycle tours. "Everyone thought I'd gone insane, saying nobody is going to be excited about bicycles," smiles Leenars. But he proved them wrong because, as he says, "Bicycles are a part of our culture — they're such a good way to connect with both people and places."

And now, with a team of 25 people and a fleet 85 bicycles, Leenars's Delhi ByCycle offers five different tours of the city with a chai stop in-between. "It is just a great way to reach out to each other and makes us all one with the local life here," he says.

Lately, there's been a little change in Leenars's home address, since he's shifted base to Goa. "And no, it's nothing to do with the pollution levels of Delhi, but the need to shift out of a metropolis to a smaller city — to give a better quality of life to my children," he explains. Of course, the shift hasn't affected work. "I am travelling back and forth all the time, and with a big team to help me, work carries on." Ask him if, being a foreigner, he's faced any security issues and Leenars shakes his head. "Never. On the contrary, we get a lot of respect and support. And my Hindi — it's not as good as my children's (who go to Indian schools in Goa) — gets me by as one of the crowd."

India is among the most happening of countries right now, concedes Marie Abbo, who, as a marketing professor at a business school in France, had to organise an international training programme over 12 years ago. "When I was given a choice between India and China, I chose the former," says Abbo, whose decision was prompted by the fact that she knew a bit of Sanskrit and that India was a democracy. "This form of government helps in promoting free discussion. And at the MBA level, that is what I was interested in — a free exchange of ideas among students."

Abbo has since been coming to India with her French students and staying here for three months at a stretch. "I wanted both my French as well as Indian vidyarthis to experiment with life, and not just exams, in each other's countries," explains the 59-year-old who has alongside completed her PhD at the Delhi University on the alliance between NGOs and brands.

After calling it quits from her job as a professor, Abbo is now working to set up her own company that will bring in skin-care products and brands into India. "I want to keep my association with this country going," she adds. "It's not just work and the professional attitudes that will keep it alive, but even my love for aloo tikki and paneer. After all, where else will I get the amazing flavours I get here?" she asks with a laugh.

The theme for the next photo feature is HIDE 'N' SEEK. Submit your entry (one per person) with your name, a caption, & information about where you have taken the photo, to sundaydh@gmail.com latest by January 16, 2017.

File size should at least be 500 KB. The subject line for the mail is 'My Take'

A good artist should be isolated. If he isn't isolated, then something is wrong," said Orson Welles, the American actor, writer and producer of many films.

This is the exact sentiment of all the artists in the universe. To create their masterpieces, they want space, they want ambience, they want 'me time', and of course, sometimes they need mentors who can discuss their work, channel their thoughts, or just be there to bounce their ideas.

"I live across, but I use this studio space to get away from the chaos of my daily home life. I want to constantly think of my work, and here in this small room, I can do that. This room may appear chaotic, but I like it that way and I needn't worry about what others think about it," says mixed-media artist Ratna Gupta in her mid-30s, who is busy working on a sculpting project using resin and fibre glass. Bang in the middle of the next room, she has a large tree stump just waiting to be worked on.

"Here I get time to think, contemplate, plan on my work and art. And I also get time to interact with other artists, read books related to my work, and imbibe the art atmosphere without constant demands from the other aspects of life," says young Dishakha Yadav, who uses lithography and water colours to create her work.

These two artists are residents of WAA? (What about art?) and Space 118, two prominent artist-in-residencies (A-I-R) in Mumbai. As we enter 2017, suddenly it appears as though the word A-I-R, which hitherto was quite common among artists in America and European countries, has started gaining momentum in the Indian art world too. What had started as a trickle in the beginning of this century seems to have caught on the fancy of many, and we are seeing the mushrooming of several A-I-R in every Metro and II-tier cities. In the artists' world, the names of KHOJ (Delhi), Pepper House (Kochi), Periferry (Guwahati), BAR1, 1Shantiroad (Bengaluru), Sanskriti Foundation (Delhi), Piramal Art Foundation (Thane), WAA?, Space 118 (Mumbai), ANVI (Raigad), TIFA (Pune) and many others are becoming their anthems. Young, senior and veteran artists from all over India, including far-off places of North East, are talking and using the facilities offered by A-I-Rs.

An artist in residency is an invitation to creative people from all spheres of life — painters, sculptors, installation artists, performers, sound artists, video artists, curators, academicians, textile designers, fashion designers and any others who create beauty. A-I-Rs are places where artists can reflect, research, discuss, explore or practice art, interact with other artists, interact with galleries, theatre groups, general public if they so need, or do what they feel would enhance their work and help in their overall growth.

In the time of Internet and media explosion, there is no need for any A-I-R to advertise their presence. An artist who is interested in attending a residency, googles it and gets all the information. And if he or she belongs to any school of art, they come to know about the residency's work and benefits during their course of studies. Every A-I-R invites applications. There is a strict selection process. Sometimes the artists are asked to make a presentation, discussions are held, and then admissions are given to deserving artists. And no A-I-R ever promises the sale of their works. At the end of residencies, open exhibitions are held where collectors, art critiques, other artists and general public are invited to view the work. If someone buys any work or commissions the artists, then it's between the artist and the person. Also, after availing the facilities provided by the residency, if the project presented at the time of admission fails, the artist isn't penalised.

Opportunity of 'anywhere'

There is no universal model for A-I-Rs. Depending on the people involved in running the place, and the funds available, the model differs from one to another. They can be part of universities, museums, galleries, studio spaces, festivals or artist groups. They can be 24x7, seasonal, or one-time events. They can be held in urban spaces, villages, container ships, abandoned boats (Periferry is located on Bramhaputra river), and of course, in wilderness. Financial models also vary from each residency. Some are fully funded, some give stipends, besides covering all the expenses of the artist's stay, whereas some others are fully paid residencies.

"An artist otherwise has to struggle to meet the galleries or hunt for their muses, look around for the material they want to create. We become facilitators for them. We either introduce them to people they want to interact with, or we give them information from where they can get what they want," explains Saloni Doshi, director, founder and owner of Space 118 in Mumbai. "Sometimes I have procured horses for artists as they wanted to use them for their creation," she says.

A lover and collector of art work from her early days, 37-year-old Saloni's one desire was to create space for artists where they can work unhindered. So in 2010, from her businessman father, she borrowed a part of the warehouse located in the industrial belt of Mazagaon in Mumbai and made five spacious studios which she leases out to artists for a month or two. In exceptional cases, she allows artists to stay on for six months also. At any given time in her residency there are one or two emerging artists who benefit by mingling with other senior artists also. As Space 118 hasn't yet got any funding, she charges a nominal fee per month of stay and food, and she also doesn't restrict artists from creating what they want. Her residencies aren't theme-based.

In contrast is Thane-based Piramal Art Residency. Each residency is organised around a particular theme — art, history, science, literature — or even mediums like painting, drawing, installation etc. Located in the sylvan locales of Thane, the residency is a dream place to stay in. It consists of four studio rooms where six artists can work for a period of three weeks. Fully funded, the residency even offers a stipend depending on the experience of the artist, and four meals a day!

"Generally, artists think we are in Mumbai and so hesitate when they hear the name 'Thane', but once they step in, they forget everything," says the young manager Prutha Girme. Having been an artist herself, Prutha is able to understand the needs of the artists well. So she is involved with the other board members right from the time of conceptualising the theme, selecting artists, to looking over their work, and helping them interact with galleries in Mumbai.

Where it began...

In fact, the concept of A-I-Rs isn't as recent as we think. In India, BAR 1 (Bengaluru Artist Residency One), was supposed to be the first of its kind of A-I-R started in Bengaluru way back in 2001 by artists like Surekha, Christoph Storz, Suresh Kumar, Ayisha and Smitha Cariappa. It's a non-profit exchange programme by artists, for artists, to foster the local, Indian and international mutual exchange of ideas and experiences through artist residencies in Bengaluru.

Surekha, an internationally known contemporary artist based in Bengaluru, says, "The charm of this residency was its personal and hands-on way of functioning. It has been run and conceptualised from within the local Bengaluru artists' community. More than 100 artists have been a part of this residency. But now, as so many residencies have come up in Bengaluru itself, we have stopped the residency programme. But we always come together when we take up an event."

At the same time as BAR 1, KHOJ in Delhi was established. Though KHOJ started conducting annual workshops almost two decades ago, it became a fully functional residency around 14 years ago. It's one of the leading A-I-Rs in India which is known, respected and coveted by artists from all over the world. In fact, a residency in KHOJ enhances one's CV! Many foreign artists who are funded by their own governments, or other organisations, come here to participate in projects including workshops, residencies, exhibitions, talks, and public and socially engaged practices.

KHOJ Studios, conceptualised by artists like Subhod Gupta, his wife Bharati Kher, Anita Dube, Manisha Parekh and Pooja Sood (present director), based in Delhi, has catalysed a community of artists into networks across India, and has actively developed the South Asian Networks for Arts (SANA).

"Over 200 Indian and 400 international artists from countries such as Argentina, Brazil, Cuba, Uganda, Kenya, Turkey, Pakistan, Japan, China, Indonesia, Sri Lanka, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Thailand, Korea, UK, Germany, France, Mexico and America have been through KHOJ. We host five artists at a time and they are completely funded, plus get a small remuneration also," explained Sitara Chowfla, curator and senior programmes manager of KHOJ International Artists' Association.

In India, getting funds for artists is yet to catch up. Except for Inlak Shivdasani Foundation and a few others, people aren't bothered about helping artists. Inlak is of course the most coveted organisation for funding. They even finance deserving candidates to attend residency programmes abroad. Some corporates do step in to help some artists, but a lot of lobbying needs to be done to get funds. And they invariably look for some mileage in return!

"Mithun Das from the Baroda School of Art is sponsored by Inlak Foundation, whereas Ratna Gupta is a self-funded resident," explained Niyati Upadhya, manager at WAA, while introducing Mithun, a multimedia artist. The two-year-old residency, started by French arts manager Eve Lemesle, offers affordable studio spaces

in a space-crunched city like Mumbai. WAA caters to both the needs and economies of emerging artists. The residency is open to artists working in all fields of visual art. It collaborates with The Darling Foundry, Canada, The Heritage Hotel: Art Spaces, Goa, Mudra Foundation, Odisha, Ladakh Arts and Media Organisation (LAMO), Leh. So artists here get the benefit of interacting with all these organisations.

Most of these A-I-Rs are bang in the middle of the chaos of cities. But one-year-old Anvi, located in Raigad, almost appears to be located in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the greeneries of Western Ghats. Sandeep Manchekar, renowned ceramic potter, who is considered as the guru and father of nearly every ceramic and studio potter of Mumbai, has started Anvi, the only ceramic potter's residency in Maharashtra, just a year back.

"Many come here to learn ceramic pottery. Others come to polish their skill, and some others come to experiment with their work. Because of lack of space, Mumbai potters can't afford to have a kiln to bake their products. So they are very happy to stay with us and work on their project. At present, we can't afford to fund the artists, so we charge for their stay and food," says Manchekar.

There are very few A-I-Rs which are held in remote villages, involving villagers and spreading social messages. Contemporary artist Chintan Upadhyay was probably the first artist to start a rural art residency. With his NGO, Sandarbh, he set up residencies, workshops, and promoted arts by raising awareness about contemporary artistic practices in a small village called Partapur, Rajasthan.

Almost at the same time as Chintan, another contemporary artist and sculptor, Bhupat Dudi, started an NGO, Sowing Seeds, to create awareness of the environment and the issues that concern villagers in their relation to the contemporary world.

Held in several villages of Rajasthan during the winter months, Bhupat says, "Rural Rajasthan is rich in tradition and culture. Its raw art form could be developed to bring economic gains to the region, and in turn improve the social status of its inhabitants. Rural art has to undergo a metamorphosis to become contemporary. So each year we take different themes: social, educational, environmental etc, and create art around that theme."

Sowing Seeds has become so popular that when they announce the residency programme on social media, they get 400-500 applications from all over the world. After a tedious selection process, five artists are selected.

"We completely fund the artists from their journey ticket, to stay and everything else. As getting funds is a real problem, we can't offer five-star hotel facilities to artists, but they enjoy the village stay and interacting with locals. The best part of our residency is that we involve volunteers from villages so the residency becomes fun to locals, and also the participating artists!"

The Artist-In-Residency may have some problems for both the artists and organisers. There may be some complaints, some heartburns from both sides. But the trend has come to stay. The best example is the ongoing Kochi-Muziris Biennale.
Both national and international artists are participating in this event held in Pepper House, Kochi, and it's in its third year, and has managed to garner the attention of both national and international media. It's become THE residency event in India.

Nature becomes your travel companion when you take time out in these off-track destinations and live life in the slow lane... There you may well find the answer to your unnamed longings.

Sojha

The journey to Sojha village in the Kullu district of Himachal Pradesh literally took our breath away. The road wound past plunging ravines and, at other times, snaked past lush fields of wheat and serene hamlets bypassed by time.

As our car climbed up to Jalori Pass (at 10,281 ft), which links Shimla and Kullu districts, it swept past secret cedar and pine forests and sighed to a halt at the pass. A quick cup of tea thawed us out and we were soon driving downhill toward Sojha, 5 km away.

The minuscule village (90 km away from Shimla), draped on the slope of a hill, is the last one in the Seraj valley, and as remote as you can get. With just a couple of homestays by way of accommodation, the Banjara Retreat and Cottage is the pick of the lot. Essentially comprising two wood houses perched on a ridge with wraparound verandahs, the Banjara Retreat and Cottage lassos views of the snow-cuddled Dhauladhar range in the distance, and in the foreground, cedar-clad slopes that seem to plunge into bottomless valleys.

The next day, we rose to see the sun shining on isolated hilltop villages, below which unrolled green terraced fields. Post breakfast, we had the option to trek 6 km to Serolsar Lake in the mountains or plunge into a dense coniferous forest to a waterfall. We opted for the latter and walked through the one-road hamlet, brimming with time-stopped cameos like a shepherdess herding her flock of goats with fond clucking sounds, and locals cooking on wood fires.

Later, we burrowed into the tangled depths of the forest spangled with wild flowers where mushrooms sprouted on mossy tree trunks, and streams and brooks trickled from unseen heights. A thunderous roar rent the quiet and we saw a foaming cascade of water pounding down to earth as though attempting to break its ancient bones.

When we trekked back to our hotel, our guide told us how Sojha got its name. The British colonialists loved this serene Eden and built a picturesque guest house (now a PWD bungalow) amid shimmering green lawns.

There they rested their fevered brows in an attempt to ease the burdens of running an empire. The 'natives' christened the village 'Sojha' (sleep) because that's what the colonialists liked to do.

Today, the occasional tourist and wayfarer who stops in this pretty little village does more than just relax; there's trekking, hiking and fishing... Ultimately, in Sojha, nature still calls the shots.

Contact: HP Tourism at www.himachaltourism.gov.in

Orchha

Orchha, 125 km south of Gwalior, exists in an other-worldly dimension. We explored the two-sq-km riverside town, nagged by the feeling that it was a movie set, unreal almost, because of its crumbling palaces and a forest that threatened to swallow it up.

The forest almost did, but Orchha emerged in recent times from obscurity to become a tourist draw. Thanks to its grand edifices and its middle-of-nowhere feel, it is easy to imagine the town brimming with nautch girls, pampered concubines and portly potentates.

Indeed Orchha's monuments are storytellers in stone. They whisper tales from the past to the traveller who cares to listen... of Rani Kunwar who travelled far to seek Lord Ram's darshan. He appeared to her in the form of an idol but cautioned her that his final resting place would be the spot where she would first place it. The queen set off once again for Orchha, a journey which in the old days took eight months, while her husband, Madhukar Shah, proceeded to build a temple to enshrine the Lord.

However, construction took longer than anticipated and Rani Kunwar placed the idol in her bedroom. When it was time to move it to the Chaturbhuj Temple, the idol could not be budged. So it remained in a small room of the palace which was converted into the Ram Raja Temple. The empty Chaturbhuj Temple waits with bated breath for the divine guest who will never arrive.

Today, the Ram Raja temple is the only place in the country where Lord Ram is said to visit at night. In the day, he stays in Ayodhya, and at night, in Orchha; an evocative evening aarti welcomes him home.

Another oft-told story is of Rai Parveen Mahal, a petite structure dedicated to the paramour of Raja Indramani (1672-76). When Emperor Akbar heard about the stunning beauty of Rai Parveen, he summoned her to Delhi. She went to the Mughal court, but there she told the emperor in verse that only a dog or crow would eat another's leftovers. The emperor sent her back, untouched.

Jehangir Mahal is another Mughal legacy. An imposing palace crowned by chhatries, it was built by Raja Bir Singh Deo in the 17th century to accommodate Emperor Jehangir when he visited Orchha. But once the royal guest had left, the palace was abandoned. So too with the Raj Mahal adorned with rich murals of Krishna and his gopis, kings and commoners.

We left behind that world of powerful kings and queens, scheming courtiers and lonely nautch girls, to walk amidst the 14 cenotaphs of the rulers of Orchha, a ghost city on the banks of Betwa river... Yes, Orchha is like a stage where royal lovers and godly figures strut and sashay, playing their assigned roles in the grand scheme of things.

Contact: MP Tourism at www.mptourism.com

Chuikhim

Tucked away in the secret folds of Kalimpong Hills in North Bengal is a rustic getaway called Chuikhim.

In that village that spreads over a couple of hills with terraced fields sloping away into the valley, we did not find the paraphernalia of modernity, but a deep serenity. There, 1,800 local residents live a life in consonance with the seasons and nature... waking up at dawn to milk their cows, tilling their fields, tending their gardens that flare in colourful profusion in front of their minuscule cottages, cooking on wood fires, and eating earthy organic meals together as a family in their homes bright with warm floor rugs.

It's a life devoid of wants and desires, where nature is an ally rather than a capricious foe, and most inhabitants of the village live a life stripped down to the bare and most important essentials.

Chuikhim is an ideal no-frills rural break for the city slicker who yearns to hear the soft sigh of the wind in the trees, the sight of hills blueing into the distance, a clay-coloured river snaking away into a valley way below, and vistas of neat homes with doors left hospitably open... The villagers are friendly, soft-spoken, and more than willing to invite tourists into their homes.

Chuikhim is a great starting point for treks — into the forest and to the river. In the evening, we would head out to Sunrise Point from where we would gaze at sunsets, their magnificence undiluted by pollution.

Our days were filled with visits to nearby Loleygaon (24 km), another rural and scenic mountain village, and Charkol (39 km), which is the ideal place to view the Kangchenjunga massif. Charkol, located at 5,000 ft in the Eastern Himalayas, is a wooded haven wrapped in a forest of oak, pine and cedar. There, rare Himalayan birds flit, as do gaudy butterflies, while sprays of orchids daub the forests with colour.

The hill resort of Kalimpong is located 30 km away from Charkol, and forms an attractive circuit with Chuikhim as a base. Located on a ridge overlooking the Teesta river, Kalimpong has unmatched views of the Himalayas.
Contact: West Bengal Tourism at www.wbtourism.gov.in

Champaner

In the late 19th century, two Englishmen, Henry Cousens and James Burgess, decided to plunge into a dense forest 46 km outside Vadodara/Baroda, Gujarat, and check out the ruins that peered over the treetops. Enduring thorns and twigs that tore at them, the two soldiered on, past ancient twisted trees, till they were confronted by an amazing sight...

Crumbling fort walls, abandoned palaces, towering minarets and vacant mosques stood like silent sentinels guarding the secrets of the lyrically named city of Champaner; a city that thrived through the 14th and 16th centuries as the capital of Gujarat under Muhammad Begda. Sadly, in 1535, the armies of Mughal Emperor Humayun ravaged the medieval city that was soon reclaimed by the forest.

We too followed the trail of the two explorers across a parched landscape when, almost without warning, we found ourselves within the crumbling fort walls of the ghost city that was once protected by five massive gates and defended by 76 giant catapults that hurled enormous boulders and fireballs at enemy forces.

The wind that rustled eerily through the ancient ruins spoke to us — of battles lost and won; of handsome princes galloping into battle; of princesses in rustling silks waiting for them to return...

The royal enclave stood tall and fairly well-preserved, and an artificial lake rippled blue under a clear sky. Jami Masjid, one of the many mosques, with minarets pointing heavenwards, was most riveting. The Indo-Saracenic style of architecture was evident in the intricately etched stone screens and the finely carved reliefs on the walls and minarets.

From there, we rode up a ropeway to the 14th century pilgrim town of Pavagadh (part of the Champaner-Pavagadh Archaeological Park), perched on a hillock, 1,470 ft above sea level.

Contact: Gujarat Tourism at www.gujarattourism.com
Nameri

The trees that lined the highway that cut through Nameri National Park that straddles Assam and Arunachal Pradesh cast eerie shadows against a velvet-black sky. Our eyes, however, scanned the all-engulfing darkness for something more real and threatening: elephants. Just as we started to breathe freely, a menacing shape emerged on the road ahead of us. Our driver brought the vehicle to a halt and killed the lights. The behemoth turned to confront us, waving his enormous trunk ominously in our direction. And then, thankfully, it turned and melted into the forest.
Driving in the northwest reaches of Assam at night is definitely not for the faint-hearted. But we had no choice! For travelling across the scenic states of the North-East during the day, we found ourselves stopping ever so often to admire the scenery: lush meadows, tea plantations, snow-dusted peaks, quaint villages... This self-indulgence had wreaked havoc with our schedules.

So we checked into a back-to-nature tented camp well after nightfall. The next morning, we awoke to the song of birds and emerged from our thatched-roof cottages to be greeted by deep secretive forests on either side, snow-kissed mountains in the distance, and a jade-green river.

Down by a rustic pier, a rubber dinghy and a smiling boatman greeted us. Soon the dinghy, with us perched precariously in it, floated down the river. We rode the rapids and our own waves of exhilaration. It did not take us long to realise that the Jia Bhoroli river was a temperamental waterway — sometimes slow and easy, occasionally fast and perky. So we rolled with the punches and gazed at the landscape as it unravelled along the banks.

We cruised past a herd of elephants, flotillas of wild ducks, little waterfront hamlets and island outcrops before disembarking downstream. On our way back to the camp, we crossed paths with cowherds shepherding their flocks into a smoky sunset.
Contact: Assam Tourism at http://assamtourism.gov.in

Nameri

The trees that lined the highway that cut through Nameri National Park that straddles Assam and Arunachal Pradesh cast eerie shadows against a velvet-black sky. Our eyes, however, scanned the all-engulfing darkness for something more real and threatening: elephants. Just as we started to breathe freely, a menacing shape emerged on the road ahead of us. Our driver brought the vehicle to a halt and killed the lights. The behemoth turned to confront us, waving his enormous trunk ominously in our direction. And then, thankfully, it turned and melted into the forest.

Driving in the northwest reaches of Assam at night is definitely not for the faint-hearted. But we had no choice! For travelling across the scenic states of the North-East during the day, we found ourselves stopping ever so often to admire the scenery: lush meadows, tea plantations, snow-dusted peaks, quaint villages... This self-indulgence had wreaked havoc with our schedules.

So we checked into a back-to-nature tented camp well after nightfall. The next morning, we awoke to the song of birds and emerged from our thatched-roof cottages to be greeted by deep secretive forests on either side, snow-kissed mountains in the distance, and a jade-green river.

Down by a rustic pier, a rubber dinghy and a smiling boatman greeted us. Soon the dinghy, with us perched precariously in it, floated down the river. We rode the rapids and our own waves of exhilaration. It did not take us long to realise that the Jia Bhoroli river was a temperamental waterway — sometimes slow and easy, occasionally fast and perky. So we rolled with the punches and gazed at the landscape as it unravelled along the banks.

We cruised past a herd of elephants, flotillas of wild ducks, little waterfront hamlets and island outcrops before disembarking downstream. On our way back to the camp, we crossed paths with cowherds shepherding their flocks into a smoky sunset.
Contact: Assam Tourism at www.assamtourism.gov.in

The theme for the next photo feature is shadows. Submit your entry (one per person) with your name, a caption, & information about where you have taken the photo, to sundaydh@gmail.com latest by January 30, 2017.

File size should at least be 500 KB. The subject line for the mail is 'My Take'

Jews in Kerala have had a rich, unbroken history. Despite being a religious minority, they were able to exist among the natives, while holding on to the very distinct traits of their community. Sadly, their numbers are fast-dwindling.

It's a lazy, slow-sale Friday afternoon on the Jew Street in Mattancherry. The Paradesi Synagogue down the street, the biggest tourist draw in this little town near Kochi, is closed post-noon on Fridays; salesmen at the souvenir shops on the street, many of them Kashmiris, stroll out for tea, and some catch up on town gossip, settling on parked motorbikes. There is more activity at the home of the town's oldest Jew, Sarah Cohen, where foreign tourists drop in to meet her and enquire if there are enough Jews in the town to make a minyan (the group of 10 men required for a Jewish prayer service). The home has attached to it a shop selling, since 1950, hand-embroidered clothes, kippahs and 'Jewish special items'. Sarah, 94, doesn't hear the visitors; she looks out her window, detached and possibly tired, as Thaha Ibrahim, who runs the shop, tells them apologetically — "Not enough people."

There are only five Paradesi (foreigner) Jews, to be precise, in the neighbourhood around the synagogue that was built in 1568 by the descendants of Spanish, Dutch and other European Jews. They belong to two families; Sarah is the last of the Cohens and there are four others — three women and a man — in the Hallegua family that lives on the same lane. Hussain, an old-timer from the town, says, "People are selling off their properties here. Most of them who've stayed back are now really aged, they rarely come out and mingle with other residents of the town. It's not like how it was."

The Paradesis' history in Kerala is traced to the expulsion of Jews from Spain in 1492 and the Portuguese Inquisition in 1536. Their arrival has been linked both to the fears of persecution and the prospects for trade on the coast of Malabar. Their numbers have come down steadily since the early 1950s that witnessed mass immigration of Jews from Kerala to Israel in the wake of its formation, in 1948.

In Ernakulam, the number of Malabari Jews, who, according to some accounts, arrived on the Malabar coast during the 10th Century BCE, is also dwindling. Other historical accounts mark their arrival in the villages of Cranganore (present-day Kodungallur, about 45 kilometres from Kochi) at around 70 CE when the Romans destroyed the Second Jewish Temple of Jerusalem. Now, there are only about 25 of the Malabari Jews left in Ernakulam, some still intensely wistful of making the aliyah (the immigration to Israel).

The two groups, despite their shared religion and proximity (Mattancherry is located about 15 kilometres from Ernakulam town), haven't mixed well. The voice of Josephai Elias, the most prominent among the Malabari Jews of Kochi, turns grim at the mention of the Mattancherry Jews — "They must have told you that only the white-skinned are the real Jews, haven't they? The rest of us are second-rate for them." Elias, known as Babu among friends, doesn't want to engage you in what he calls "manipulated history". The rancour is hard to miss, but the paradesis' retreat to the tour-brochure margins of Mattancherry town is more striking against the good times that Ibrahim keeps recalling. Sarah doesn't contribute much to this happy rewind — she sits there, right thumb pressed against forefinger (her knitting pose, offers Thaha's wife Jasmine), her memory fading, speech muddled, but eyes flitting to traffic on the street.

Living in the past

Sarah's home is a throwback to a time when the Paradesi Jews lived life with an all-heart spirit and a sense of fellowship. In photographs on the home's walls, life in the town is bookmarked — she is a cheerful teenager in one, with members of her family on her wedding day in another; in one of them, she is also a middle-aged woman engaged in a round of cards with her friends. "She used to sing more often. Till about a year ago, she did her knitting; now, others work on her designs. Most of the embroidered work you see here was done by Sarah auntie," says Ibrahim. Sely, a middle-aged woman, is at the shop working on the clothes even as she shares jokes on Sarah's mood swings. She also helps the couple take care of Sarah. Ibrahim says he was taken into the Cohens' home by Sarah's late husband, Jacob E Cohen, about 30 years ago. He, along with friend Thoufeek Zakriya, has initiated research on the history of Malabari Jews; together, they also manage a blog on the community.

Ibrahim doesn't seem mindful of the sub-text — two Muslims trying to explore the history of Jewish presence in an Indian state and preserve its imprints for posterity — and points excitedly to a young Sarah in the video of a 1937 wedding held at the Paradesi Synagogue that he plays on his laptop. The weddings and community events, with their elaborate rituals and renditions of Hebrew and Malayalam songs, point to the ethos of a people grounded to tradition. The Paradesi Jews, however, may have lived the synagogue-centric community life too long to have ensured a greater assimilation into the rapidly evolving socio-political milieu of Kerala. This aspect of their centuries-old presence in the region could be the one that separates them from the Malabari Jews, according to retired History professor and activist C Karmachandran. He explains how the Malabari Jews have, over the centuries, moved out of community pockets and blended with other groups around them and joined diverse professions — their assimilation has been fairly seamless, he says. "The Paradesi Jews have been strict practitioners of their religion, and have displayed a strong sense of community, but they've also been comfortably confined to a group. There seems to have been a resistance to open up, probably also because they perceived themselves as being watched by the others with a certain curiosity," says Prof Karmachandran.

The rituals practised by Jews in Mattancherry, however, have been marked with strong local flavours. The tradition of wedding songs in Malayalam, carried over through generations, also reflects these influences. Of the eight Jewish synagogues — including the Kadavumbhagam Synagogue in Ernakulam managed by the Malabari Jews and others in Mala, Paravur and Chendamangalam — left as structures in Kerala, the Paradesi Synagogue is the only one that still hosts congregational prayer services. Even that, only when a minyan is available; otherwise, it's a monument that tops the touristy charm of the Mattancherry-Fort Kochi region that also draws its heritage from its once-thriving spice trade. Prof Karmachandran points to the issues of history-pegged tourism initiatives when they come at the cost of preservation. He, along with a group of activists, has been struggling to conserve the remains of a Jewish cemetery on four acres of land — the largest for the community in India, according to members of the group — in Mala, in neighbouring Thrissur district. It's a tough but essential vigil as real estate interests have already surfaced in the form of a football stadium that is set to come up on two-and-a- half acres of land, on the burial ground.

"When the last of the Jews in Mala left for Israel (in 1955), they left en masse. But they did enter an agreement with the local authorities, in an effort to ensure that the cemetery and the synagogue are conserved by the panchayat, even after they are gone. The agreement stipulated that excavation should not be allowed on the site, but these are inconsequential details for those who see the location solely as high-potential real estate," says Prof Karmachandran. More than 2,000 members of the community have been buried here; now, the cemetery has only three tombstones, standing as evidence to a time when over 40 Jewish families lived in the village. Last year, windowpanes of the 1,000-year-old synagogue, located about 500 metres from the cemetery, were left broken. A status report on built heritage of Thrissur, compiled by the Indian National Trust for Art and Heritage in 2015, highlights "ongoing neglect" of the synagogue and says the panchayat's failure in carrying out the annual maintenance of the synagogue is in violation of the 1955 agreement. For the group of activists who work as part of a heritage conservation council, the fight is getting tougher. They are now engaged in long-drawn legal battles on the issue even as they lead awareness campaigns to mobilise support to their calls for preserving these last remnants of Jewish presence in the region.

Conservation is key

The Kerala Government is working on what it calls the largest conservation project in the country — the Muziris Heritage Project — where history of the ancient port of Muziris is explored, from its rise as a key point in the maritime trade route to the floods of 1341 that knocked it off the map. These floods are believed to have led the Jews from Kodungallur to the Kochi region. Implemented between North Paravur in Ernakulam district and Kodungallur, the project is an attempt to revisit the region's history through the presence of diverse ethnic groups and cultures. Shrines, markets, palaces, forts and cemeteries are set to be preserved as part of the project.

The Kerala Jews History Museum (housed in the 1615 Paravur Synagogue) and the Kerala Jews Lifestyle Museum (in the 17th century Chendamangalam Synagogue) will be preserved as part of the project.

Historians have argued that efforts to catalogue the past entirely in museums, sometimes, come with the certainty of closure; there is the argument that favours preserving it, instead, in live forms of art and culture. The apathy to demands for preserving Jewish structures in Mala also offers an interesting contrast with patronage the Jewish community enjoyed from the kings and local chieftains over many centuries. "Jews in Kerala have had a rich, unbroken history. What makes their presence here significant is that despite being a religious minority, they were protected in this land and were able to exist among us while holding on to the very distinct traits of their community. Their history here also reflects the pluralistic credentials of our society," says Prof Karmachandran.

It's interesting to note that Jew Town is hosting a collateral show titled Axis of Secret Histories. All this comes back as part of the ongoing third edition of the Kozhi-Muziris Biennale. The concept note for the show reads — "The project deals an open-ended inquiry into history and the prospect of imagining fresh possibilities". In Mattancherry and Fort Kochi, cultures continue to meet on pretty waterfronts and in 'hassle-free' stores where tourists get souvenirs and sample packs of assorted spices. The spice trade has hit new lows over the past decade, with the market struggling to adopt prescribed quality standards and labour and transportation issues adding to the problems. Traders in Jew Town say the shift in interests has been gradual but palpable. The town's market lanes still retain the smells and sounds of its past, but its face sports a calm, perhaps mirroring the signs of time for its best-known inhabitants — from thriving residents to an engaging back-story.

At Sarah's home, Jewish tourists are still coming in to meet her, but she looks withdrawn. Ibrahim says Sarah never quite expressed a desire to move out and settle in the Holy Land — "She has lived her life here, speaking the language of this land and always surrounded by people. She's not sure if she can have it like this anywhere else," he says. There's another request for a photograph and Sarah says in a drawl — "Enthinaa?" ("For what?"). It's not really a question; she doesn't sound like she's asking.

The theme for the next photo feature is symmetry. Submit your entry (one per person) with your name, a caption, & information about where you have taken the photo, to sundaydh@gmail.com latest by February 13, 2017.

File size should at least be 500 KB. The subject line for the mail is 'My Take'

Imagine, you are driving through rush hour traffic and all of a sudden, your car breaks down. The thought itself is enough to make one break into a sweat. But that's exactly what happened a few decades ago, when our good old Fiat decided to act up. Just as we were trying to manoeuvre through a busy street, the gear stick broke into two. With no roadside assistance or helplines to fall back on, my dad quickly stuck a long screwdriver in place of the gear lever and drove us out of there.

Little did I know at that point in time that, apart from some quick thinking on my father's part, what I had just witnessed was a simple jugaad that had saved the day.

Multiple meanings
For the uninitiated, jugaad is a colloquial Hindi word that refers to the process of finding an unconventional, yet ingenious solution to a sticky problem. The word has come to be interpreted and used in multiple ways, depending on the situation one is caught in.

So, whether it is creating a working alternative of an otherwise expensive or complicated piece of machinery with limited resources at hand, or finding clever ways of overcoming mundane, day-to-day issues that we face, the first solution offered is invariably a jugaad. Look at the weeks following the demonetisation drive in the country, where we witnessed jugaad in its Sunday best. From people hiring other people to stand in serpentine queues outside banks for them, to others who tried using their 'contacts' to get around the law, and doing everything else in between, to tide over the crunch.

More often than not, we prefer making our own way, if we can't find our way out. Take, for instance, the case of a teenager in Kerala inventing a pedal-powered washing machine in order to ease out life's struggles, or that of others using washing machines to churn lassi. Yes, you read it right. In the 80s, small dhaba owners in rural Punjab often used top-loading washing machines to churn up large quantities of lassi in a jiffy.

Jugaad is a way of life in India, and the jugaadu sentiment is so deeply embedded in our psyche that it comes naturally to us. Though, if one fully wants to comprehend the meaning of this sentiment, watching Delhi-based filmmaker Anandana Kapur's award-winning documentary, The Great Indian Jugaad, makes for a good start.

"What was initially intended to be a short film turned out to be a feature-length documentary," says Kapur, as her film successfully portrays the myriad meanings and common perceptions of the word jugaad — both positive and negative. "The word is so multifarious in its connotations that I couldn't help but give it a kind of encyclopaedic treatment, which brings out the comic, the ironic, as well as the satirical interpretations of the word in the film," she adds.

Her film introduces us to the jugaad, which is also the name given to a locally made low-cost motor vehicle — a rattletrap of an assembled pick-up truck, with a diesel water-pump for an engine, and various automobile parts taken from different scrapped vehicles. Popular in rural areas, especially in Uttar Pradesh, Haryana and Punjab, it is put together "thok peeth ke", as one regular passenger puts it, and is used for ferrying people, livestock and agricultural produce, sometimes all of this and more, all at the same time.

Kapur's film also introduces us to the inventor of a hybrid scooter, who proudly refers to his invention as a piece of jugaad that runs on renewable sources of energy. Then, there is the RTI activist who calls himself a jugaadu crusader, and uses his writing skills and an in-depth knowledge of the RTI Act to file petitions that elicit actions.

During the making of the film, Kapur discovered that jugaad means different things to different people. While some of us consider jugaad to be a way of life, others consider it a shortcut on the road to making life more comfortable for themselves.

Some see it as the act of getting things done 'by hook or by crook', while others see it as 'innovation', 'corruption', 'careful calculation', 'plagiarism', but most importantly, as a survival 'skill' in life. Everyone unanimously agrees that jugaad is everywhere and that we all use it irrespective of our education, upbringing or financial status. Interestingly, the idea of making the film struck Kapur while she was helping a friend put together a presentation on jugaad while applying to a business school in France.

'Jugaad' goes global
The word jugaad has not only found its way into the Oxford dictionary, but has also got the academics, analysts and corporate honchos in the West enthused about it. A whole lot of credit for this goes to Navi Radjou, Dr Jaideep Prabhu and Dr Simone Ahuja, who have co-authored the book Jugaad Innovation - A frugal and flexible approach to innovation for the 21st century.

In a nutshell, the authors see jugaad as a 'highly effective business tool that can be formalised and can help companies innovate faster, better, and cheaper, in today's hyper-competitive and volatile environment.' Explaining the concept further, Radjou, a noted innovation and leadership strategist based in Silicon Valley, California, says, "Unlike the Western R&D model, which is time-consuming, costly, wasteful, and resource-intensive, jugaad is a frugal and eco-friendly innovation approach that relies on improvisation and making the most of the limited resources one has. By focusing on the real needs of the customers and eliminating superfluous features, jugaad innovation yields solutions that can be developed and marketed much faster, and can deliver greater value to customers at a lower cost."

A good example of this — as cited in the book — is Tata Motors, a company that practised frugal innovation in the first place, to give us the Nano, India's first low-cost car. Then again, there is also the example of Kishore Biyani, CEO, Future Group, who used his own judgment and intuition to make Big Bazaar a success, rather than going through the time-consuming process of conducting market research, or relying on expensive management consultants who advised him to follow the Western approach to retailing — the Walmart model, which, unfortunately, didn't yield the expected results.

Jugaad Innovation is replete with case studies and success stories of corporations, both large and small, across the world, which have used this approach to accelerate innovation and growth. Companies like 3M, Apple, GE, IBM, PepsiCo, Philips and Siemens make this list, among others. Radjou adds, "A Western corporation such as the carmaker Renault-Nissan has been practising jugaad for several years and has applied it successfully to produce bestselling vehicles like the Kwid."

From global corporations to educational institutions worldwide, the concept of jugaad is creating a whole lot of buzz in top business schools and management circles. Radjou reveals that jugaad has made inroads into top US universities like UC Berkeley and Stanford. Incidentally, his co-author, Dr Jaideep Prabhu, teaches jugaad and frugal innovation in MBA and executive education courses at the Cambridge University. Radjou adds, "In France, jugaad is now a part of the management lexicon, and is embraced in elite French engineering and business schools."

During their research, Radjou and his team also discovered that the entrepreneurial spirit of jugaad is not just unique to India. It is widely practised across all emerging economies such as China, Africa and Brazil. For instance, in Kenya, they have invented a device that enables bicycle riders to charge their cellphones while pedalling. While in the Philippines, to deal with the high cost of electricity, Illac Diaz, a jugaad innovator, invented an eco-friendly solar bottle bulb (SLB), which is nothing more than a recycled plastic bottle containing bleach-processed water that refracts sunlight, producing the equivalent of a 55-watt light bulb. This ingenious solution costs only $1 and easily fits into the roofs of makeshift houses, bringing hope and light into the lives of underprivileged Filipino families living in shanty towns.

Serial innovator
India too has its fair share of jugaad innovators and grassroots entrepreneurs, but perhaps very few can match up to Dr Uddhab Kumar Bharali, who has been dubbed as the real life Phunsukh Wangdu on OMG! Yeh Mera India, a show on History Channel. "Innovation has become my profession," says Bharali, whose jugaad mindset has pushed him to come up with 140 innovations till date, with many more in the pipeline.

Some of his popular innovations include a passion fruit gel extractor, an areca nut peeling machine, a tobacco leaf cutter, a mini tea-processing plant, a garlic peeling machine, a sugarcane chips maker, a cassava peeler, a trench digger, an encapsulated paddy-sowing machine, an affordable incinerator, and a self-feeding and cleaning device for people without hands. All of these low-cost, eco-friendly solutions were created using only the available resources, to overcome challenging situations faced by the less privileged.

For his efforts, Bharali has received a host of awards including the Shrishti Samman Master Innovator Award in 2007, the President's Grassroots Innovation Award in 2009, and the Meritorious Invention Award in 2011 by the NRDC (National Research Development Corporation). His benchtop pomegranate de-seeder and detention chair for the mentally challenged have also won the engineering design contest organised by NASA Tech, Create the Future Design Contest, for the years 2012 and 2013.

For an engineering college dropout, who also battled with huge financial constraints, Bharali sure has come a long way. Today, he is associated with prestigious educational institutions in the North East, and has also been conferred the Doctor of Science degree by Assam Agricultural College. To continue his passion for innovation, and to provide technical training to the underprivileged youth, Bharali has established a machine design and research centre in his hometown, North Lakhimpur in Assam, along with a philanthropic research centre for innovating useful gadgets for the differently abled.

The maker movement
By now, if you're also itching to tinker with your jugaadu ideas and build stuff, you can start your journey at a makerspace near you. The concept of makerspaces is slowly becoming popular across the country. These are DIY facilities that provide you with the right equipment, mentorship, and of course, the space to exploit your creative talent to invent and innovate.

Workbench Projects is one such space in Bengaluru, which co-founder Anupama Gowda describes as "a makerspace, fablab and public laboratory all rolled into one. It is a unique multi-disciplinary platform for the public to toy with ideas, tinker with tools and machines to prototype and build for the future."

"The makers represent the coming-of-age of our nation where ordinary people are empowered with the tools, techniques and community support to pursue their creative dreams," says Craig M Dmello, co-founder at Think Happy Everyday (THE) Workshop, also based in Bengaluru. Elaborating on the set-up at THE, he says, "It's a cross-disciplinary design-research initiative where innovators, designers, makers and the curious kinds can explore and pursue their interest, develop personal projects, conduct academic research, and start collaborative community programmes."

Speaking about the kind of support provided to its members, Gowda adds, "We provide training, along with project support staff ranging from generalists to on-demand facilitators who we invite on a case-to-case basis, ranging from highly skilled wood-working specialists to mechanics to patent lawyers and so on." While makerspaces provide the much-needed platform to experiment and to create, they also cushion your falls and failures at times. But more importantly, they provide the environment and the opportunity for us to cultivate and hone our jugaad mindsets, to take things up several notches.

As for a jugaadu ending to this article, let's twist a quote, which has probably been misattributed to Einstein anyway: "Logic will get you from A to B, imagination will take you everywhere," to which we say, "Logic might get you from A to B, but it is jugaad that will take you everywhere!"

The movie Titanic, directed by James Cameron, is remembered not so much for the epic disaster that sank 'the unsinkable ship', but more for the intense attraction between a young man and woman. It was that emotion called 'love' that floated the movie, earning more than $2.1 billion.

Yes, love is the star of all emotions, that which moves mountains, makes a saint of a man, makes a man out of a saint, and breaks any prison designed by man. It is that emotion that causes even heaven to resemble hell, even hell to become heaven, or makes earth both heaven and hell. It makes a lion of a mouse... or a lion into a mouse... okay, okay, you get the drift: love makes poets out of all of us.

"Chintu, I luv u, da!" Aah, sheer poetry, no? If you don't think so, ask the guy and girl involved. They probably think they are the first love poets in the world!

Hardly! The oldest love poem ever written was The Love Song of Shu-Sin, written in ancient Mesopotamia around 2000 BCE. It was part of a sacred rite performed each year, in which the king would symbolically marry the Goddess of Love, called Inanna. Its words are sheer romantic and erotic love:

To prove that you love me, give me your caresses, my Lord God, my guardian Angel and protector, my Shu-Sin, who gladdens Enlil's heart, give me your caresses!

(As you can infer, this is the unabridged version of the WhatsApp message to Chintu.)
There is something about the emotion love that makes it an integral part of literature, and that is conflict. Initially, the conflict is the decision-making — to love or not to love. Love means giving up control to emotions, to the other, to fate itself, and that in itself is a big decision to make. Then, there is the conflict with parents, family, society and the world. Nothing makes for better reading than love that doesn't come to fruition. Had Romeo married Juliet and had three kids, none of us would give them a second thought. In the movie Titanic, James Cameron admitted that there was totally enough room on the raft for both Jack and Rose to float safely. But he very cannily observed, "If Jack lives, the movie makes a tenth as much."

The conflict in love has made for endless stories. Way back in our own mythology, we have the love story of Sita and Rama, Rukmini and Krishna, Subhadra and Arjuna, Shakuntala and Dushyanta, Ganga and Shantanu... the list goes on. While these stories with happy endings spawn their own brand of conflict, the unrequited romances of Amba for Bhishma and Radha for Krishna, as well as the darker hidden love of Bhima for Draupadi, and Draupadi for Karna, wring our hearts with the pleasure-pain that is the intrinsic nature of love.

The power of love to enrich stories was not ignored by ancient Greeks either. Around the mid-800s BC, a Greek poet named Homer wrote an epic called the Illiad, based on Greek wars that destroyed the city of Troy. At the core of this story is the story of Troy's prince Paris's love for the wife of Grecian king Menelaus, Helen. He followed up with the Odyssey, which has at its centre the love between Ulysses, the King of Ithaca, and his wife, Penelope.

Since then, there have been a number of love stories, requited and unrequited, true and fictitious, that continue to move us. The true stories of Anthony and Cleopatra, Napoleon and Josephine, Heloise and Abelard, Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal, Baz Bahadur and Rani Roopmati, Marie and Pierre Curie, and Queen Victoria and Prince Albert are just as moving as the fictitious ones of Lancelot and Guinevere, Tristan and Isolde, Laila and Majnu, Salim and Anarkali, Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester, Andrei Bolkonsky and Natasha Rostov and... so many others.

As for poetry, the range exceeds imagination. Shakespeare, Robert and Elizabeth Browning, Tennyson, Emily Dickinson, Keats, Burns, Shelley, Rabindranath Tagore, Khalil Gibran and many others have immortalised the nebulous feeling in words that turn paper into passion.

To prevent us from becoming maudlin, there are also some good humorous poems on love, like:

Roses are red, violets are blue.
He's for me, not for you.
And if by chance, you take my place,
I'll take my fist and smash your face.
And here is one on unrequited (?) love, where a princess laments:
I kissed a frog because I'd heard
That it would turn into a prince.
That's not exactly what occurred,
And I've been croaking ever since.
May all your days be filled with love and laughter.
Happy Valentine's Day!

This Valentine's Day, will you send me a thorn if I ask you to kill that red heart symbol off your head? That symbol ain't the real heart. Will you hose me with hate mail if I tell you that the human heart is ugly as sin? Yes, it is.

A mere hollow, cone-shaped lump of muscle the size of an adult clenched fist tucked in the middle of the thorax. Sitting smug at the level of thoracic vertebrae T5-T8. This thorax sure does not sound as pretty as red satin home for the heart. The heart certainly cannot sing. It does not mutter the name of your love in every heartbeat. Perish that song-in-the-heart thought. Hastily. Love or not, the heart knows just one rhythm — lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. That's the real sound of a heartbeat. Not a Mozart symphony. Instead, a trite lub-dub, mimicking the sound of a workaholic machine. Science further kills the romance by naming lub-dub a dreary S1-S2 (Sound 1, Sound 2). Imagine this. You are all mush. You lay your heart on his chest and all you hear is a synchronised S1-S2, S1-S2, S1-S2, S1-S2. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Science can croak romance. And how!

Okay, I have let science slaughter love. So, today, let's stick to science. The science of love. Put the red rose back in the vase. Suspend our belief in the magic girdle of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. Let's ignore the sinuous curls of Venus, the epitome of love. Push back on the book shelf the iambic pentameters of the lovelorn poets. Set aside the fact that Sanskrit has 96 equivalents to the English word love. For a change, let's put love through the fMRI scan.

Hey, wait, wait. Do not rush to pillory me for this. I am not the only one. Of late, analysing the science of love has become a serious pursuit. Wearing white lab coats and hunched over data, psychologists, biologists and anthropologists are debunking myths about love and probing the whys and hows of that four-lettered emotion.

It is the chemicals, love

It is not the twinkle in her eye or his broad smile that makes you fall in love. It is an irresistible cocktail of chemicals that entices our brains to fall in love. You think you have found a partner. Truth be told, you are just a happy victim of Nature's way of keeping the species alive. There is not just one love chemical. Several chemicals that work through the brain during different stages of love.

Helen Fisher, cultural anthropologist of Rutgers University (USA), believes that the human species has 'evolved a specific brain network' which has created an 'innate circuitry of love'. Heart is not the beginner of love. Brain is. It all happens there. Having studied 'love' for decades, in a recent 'Science Behind the Love' study, Fisher categorises three stages involved in falling in love — lust, attraction, and attachment. Each stage involves different types of chemical reactions within the body (specifically the brain). Lust is the first stage of love and is driven by the sex hormones testosterone and oestrogen — in both men and women. Three main neurotransmitters are involved in the second stage (attraction) — adrenaline, dopamine and serotonin. For attachment (third stage) that keeps couples together, hormones oxytocin and vasopressin go on an overdrive.

In a 2000 study, Semir Zeki and Andreas Bartels of University College London, concluded that at least two areas of the brain become more active when in love — the foci in the media insula (the brain associates it with instinct) and part of the anterior cingulate cortex (associated with feelings of euphoria).

No apology. It is your biology

Are you the hopper? One-not-enough kinds? Do friends nudge-nudge because there is no superglue that makes you stick to one partner for long? Is monogamy an alien concept? A smart Alec said: Don't give an apology; it is your biology. Psychology Today finds fault in the practice of monogamy and salon.com brazenly posits that monogamy is not natural.

Biologists believe that only 3 to 5% of mammals, including humans, can be monogamous. Prairie vole, the fluffy rodent, is the most famous monogamist in the animal kingdom but meadow voles, their close cousins, are promiscuous. Neuroscience blames it on the testosterone levels that are correlated with monogamy or promiscuity — courtship behaviour in females is more dependent on increased steroid hormone sensitivity in certain brain areas, rather than elevated blood hormone levels for hormones such as testosterone. So, if monogamy is not your thing, pick your brain. It certainly lacks enough receptors for hormones oxytocin (cuddle hormone) and vasopressin.

Does it itch? Does it last?

It is the itch that the sultry Marilyn Monroe made famous. The Seven Year Itch. A break-up milestone in most marriages. Evolutionary biologists have concluded that intense romantic love lasts just long enough for partners to meet, mate and raise a baby into toddlerhood. This, only if you stick to the theory that love/sex is basically for procreation. But not every couple shrugs and walks away. Alone. Anthropologist Fisher suggests that for some, intense romantic love lasts for decades. Try running the love — and brain — of long-lasters through an fMRI and the scans will reveal that their brains resemble those of newly-in-love couples. With a big difference: the long-term partners showed no activity in their brain associated with obsession and anxiety that newly-in-love couples feel. Science explains it — the long-lasters have particularly high serotonin, the neurochemical credited for mood management.

Are you mad?

Know that obsessive lover? Madly in love? The one who does crazy stuff? Is he mad? Neuroscientist Louann Brizendine (author of The Female Brain; The Male Brain) agrees with William Shakespeare, who said that love is akin to madness. 'Infatuation-love is now a documented brain state', says Brizendine, and scientists have corroborated that sex hormones may be related to OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder).

Female vs male brain

Man's brain lies below the belt. Heard that before? Sure. Do not blame him if he lusts more than he loves. Men have two-and-a-half times the brain space devoted to sexual drive in their hypothalamus. Sexual thoughts flicker in the background of a man's visual cortex all day and night. Studies have shown that men think about sex on average every 52 seconds, while for women it is once a day. Women don't always realise that the penis has a mind of its own — for neurological reasons. Once a man's love and lust circuits are in sync, he falls just as head over heels in love as a woman.

Perhaps even more so. The difference in a man and woman's idea of love has been defined by scientists through a catalogue of genetic, structural, chemical, hormonal and processing brain differences between the two genders.

This Valentine's Day, pay attention to the lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub of your heart. Perhaps the heart is singing someone's name. Listen to it. Fall in love. Stay in love. It is love that makes the world go round. Didn't we all learn that in kindergarten?

Happiness is the ultimate purpose of our existence, whether as a conscious or unconscious decision. It is every human being's inalienable right. Yet, how do we measure happiness? It comes in so many different forms and for such diverse reasons that there can never be a consensus of what constitutes happiness.

The world will have you think that happiness is determined by material conditions; the great ancient religions, by asceticism, virtue and moral character. Balancing spiritual and material happiness is a tightrope walk that few have mastered. In our personal quest for this most elusive ideal, we often seek the path of fame, fortune and pleasure. But these are means to an end, ephemeral. As the great Greek philosopher Aristotle pointed out: "Happiness depends upon ourselves." It stands to reason then that the sum of your life, as lived from moment to moment, equals happiness. That is the fundamental philosophy of life. But philosophy does not always translate well into reality. In actuality, a lot depends on where you live, and the contributions of that city to your well-being.

For long, GNP (gross national product) was the measure by which the world gauged the well-being of a country. But this did not take into consideration the contentment of an individual within a society. In July 2011, the UN General Assembly passed a historic resolution inviting member countries to measure the happiness of their people and to use this to help guide their public policies.

Yet, in doing so, many factors come into play, factors such as urban and rural, the economic divide, society and community. These contribute to the fluctuation of well-being between citizens of a particular city. The variables are more so between countries when national wealth, human development and environmental conditions are taken into consideration. So it would seem almost a futile exercise to try and determine the happiest city or country. More practical would be to measure the broad parameters of economic, social, cultural and political effects that contribute directly to the well-being of a person.

"Increasingly, happiness is considered to be the proper measure of social progress and the goal of public policy," say the editors of the World Happiness Report (WHR) 2016*. According to WHR, Denmark ranks as the happiest country, followed by Switzerland and the Scandinavian countries. It is interesting to note that WHR ranks India 118 after Pakistan at 92 and Bangaladesh at 110!

The editors have arrived at the happiness index using six factors: GDP per capita, healthy years of life expectancy, social support (as measured by having someone to count on in times of trouble), trust (as measured by a perceived absence of corruption in government and business), perceived freedom to make life decisions, and generosity (as measured by recent donations), relative to a hypothetical country called 'Dystopia'.

The editors, all independent experts acting in their own capacities, have leveraged data from the Gallup World Poll for their analysis. "The rankings are based on answers to the main life evaluation question asked in the poll. This is called the Cantril Ladder: it asks respondents to think of a ladder, with the best possible life for them being a 10, and the worst possible life being a 0. They are then asked to rate their own current lives on that 0 to 10 scale," explains Kris Hodgins, manager, Gallup Analytics.

Statistics aside, it's what the citizen on the ground has to say that really matters. A quick poll around the globe elicited these responses:

Politics, government

In the annual survey (ASICS) of governance parameters done by Janaagraha, a non-profit Centre for Citizenship and Democracy, all major cities in India fall short on the parameters evaluated. "We believe all four parts of the framework: planning, transparency, capacities and legitimate political representation must be addressed in a holistic manner and work in tandem for ensuring a good quality of life in our cities," says Anil Nair, senior manager, Advocacy. Nair points out that as per the 2015 ASICS survey, of the 21 largest cities in India, Bengaluru was ranked 12th.

V Balasubramanian, IAS Retd, is not so optimistic about Bengaluru. "There is no administrative will within bureaucracy, let alone political will among leaders to pause and think of the future." The tragedy, he says, lies in the fact that "the central and state administrative leadership are antagonistic to each other. This causes problems in resource flow from centre to state".

Goa meets with the same verdict. "Corruption is rampant, and demonitisation has hit the common man, and not where it was supposed to hit!" says M L Tavares, a prominent educationist. Agricultural land, arbitrarily taken for development without adequate compensation, is further aggravation.

David Venus from Nuneaton, Warwickshire, England, seems as disenchanted with his government. "MPs are selected by people in their own area to represent them; these are career politicians and not truly representative of the people," he says.

There is an echo across the seas from Italy. "My city, Trento, has been among the top three Italian cities when it comes to high living standards. But, unfortunately, my city does not reflect the actual situation in Italy. A slow growth GDP rate since decades, high unemployment rate among people between 20 and 35 years, and unable politicians are destroying every potential that my country could offer," says Egon Mutschlechner, project manager.

The Middle East seems to fare better. "We have been blessed with a kind and benevolent leader, His Majesty Sultan Qaboos Bin Said, under whom we enjoy peace, stability and economic privilege," says fashion and lifestyle blogger Rachel George who has lived all of her life in Muscat, Oman, and now considers it home.

Stacie Wideman, self-employed at her family-run spring manufacturing unit, believes that while government transparency is extremely important, it does not mean much if citizens do not get involved. Fortunately for the residents of Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, USA where she lives, the local government has "town hall meetings on important issues or new city development where citizens can ask questions and voice their opinions on the subject. It is set up so that you can listen in on the meetings at home on your phone as well." One such citizens' victory was when a proposal to increase sales tax (which would have made it the highest in the country) did not pass.

Infrastructure

The United Arab Emirates has proven just why they are ranked No 3 in Asia (world rank No 28) on the Happiness Index. Theirs is perhaps the only country in the world that has no taxes, yet citizens receive world class infrastructure. Healthcare and education (including education abroad) is free, electricity and water are heavily subsidised. Generous grants are given for housing as well as for marriages. In addition, the 'Khafeel' scheme allows local Emiratis a 51% stake in business without having to invest a fil. While all these schemes are aimed at local Emiratis, foreigners living in the UAE partake of the good life too.

While taxes in many parts of the world are as high as 40-45% of a person's income, citizens get a lot in return. "Safety and infrastructure are what put Japan ahead of other parts of the world. We have a very good national healthcare system too," says Japanese translator Rita Sugano who lives in Funabashi, Chiba Prefecture.

Austria receives as glowing a report. "The infrastructure here, whether it's the electric buses, clearing of the snow in winter, maintaining parks to free education in schools and free medical services add to the quality of life and the feeling of community rather than being individualistic," says regional marketing manager, Nolita Lobo, speaking of Salzburg. We see our taxes working for us, compared to Italy or India," she says.

"Broken Arrow has a good public school system and a large majority of tax dollars go to the running of public schools. Tax dollars also support libraries, public parks, community centres, government and social programmes," says Wideman.

"Do we like living in the United Kingdom? Yes, it's not perfect, but it's not bad, we have a lot of good with our public services and council facilities, but the real pride is the National Health Service," says Venus.

To those of us in Indian cities who feel we do not get recompense for our taxes, Frenchman Jean-Marc Dalle offers an explanation: "The Chinese prepare (anticipate) everything before building something, in India that's the opposite, and all the problems are addressed in a reactive mode when it becomes a problem!"

Safety, law & order

Safety, or the perception of safety, is crucial to living anywhere. In many parts of the world the stark inequality of living conditions is what contributes to the breakdown of law and order. Natural disasters and human terror organisations are rapidly growing threats. It is an ongoing battle for many governments; but not impossible if the will is implacable.

Dr Anil Kashyap, International Federation for Housing & Planning Council India representative, shows in his case studies how Rio De Janerio "that historically struggled to ensure good urban safety... through the integration of monitoring technology, hopes it can mitigate risks associated with both social and natural safety concerns". Similarly, Kashyap points to Preston, UK. "With the addition of a Community Engagement Officer, Preston's local community has built a programme aimed at the creation of safe and inclusive local environments."

"Hong Kong has a great blend of security, stability, sustainability and freedom providing a strong springboard to happiness," says Penni Mannas Diefendorf. The author, Core of Steel series, says that Hong Kong enjoys a "peculiar kind of freedom where you can be anything and do anything, regardless of background or education!"

Sometimes though, the best of intentions go haywire. Despite having the entire police force out, Bengaluru witnessed the shameful New Year's Eve debacle, prompting a wry comment from Michael van der Veen: "Of course, Bengaluru is a happy place — now you can do a Trump anytime you want!"

Robust law enforcement, even for minor traffic infractions, makes UAE one of the safest places to live in. A non-existent gun culture ensures the absence of gun-related deaths. Even petty crimes like mugging, thefts and burglary are almost unheard of.

"Japan has a very low crime rate and I love not having to worry... There is an absolute zero tolerance for drugs here. People are polite and the focus tends to be on the community rather than the individual person. They work hard and show us the importance of doing the least little thing properly and with respect. There is great attention given to detail. No one is looked down upon because of what they do," says Sugano.

Culture & community

Both of which we have in abundance in India! Though there are some that will argue to the contrary, and barring the disruptive elements that attack the fabric of our society, Indians have no hesitation in embracing their neighbour's food and festivals. We can, by and large, rely on our compatriots in times of trouble and you can expect a warm welcome from a neighbour any time you choose to visit. This is true for many Asian cities, though the same cannot perhaps be said for Europe.

New Zealand, it would seem, is as genuine in its hospitality and warmth as we are in India. "I can really appreciate the genuine authenticity of the people in New Zealand... the way in which NZ society is open to difference, and celebrates diversity, is unparalleled in my experience," says Rhea Mohenoa, social worker and family advocate.

Environment

It is said that Bhutan is one of the happiest places on earth due, in no small measure, to the fact that this country, situated in the Himalayan Mountains, still has well over 60% of natural wilderness. Living with and surrounded by nature definitely has advantages compared to pounding through a concrete jungle all day long.

Mohenoa agrees. "In New Zealand, you don't need to drive longer than an hour to find a space of tranquillity and beauty... it is a beautiful country, both in landscape and culture, and is really just a slice of heaven that you can't quite match!"

Lobo puts it into perspective when she cites it a "privilege" and a "joy" to be able to come home to the quiet of the mountains and its stunning beauty in Salzburg. "We love that the locals work hard to preserve their heritage and nature." This, then, is the underlying global truth: "citizen involvement"!

Work-life balance

This is the eventual weight that tips the scale in favour of happiness. While many are still caught on the hedonic treadmill, increasingly the more courageous are jumping off to balance the scales in favour of what they love. "When the mundane duties of life are efficient and seamless to the point of non-existence, it leaves one free to just be — surely the happiest of happiness one could wish for!" signs off Diefendorf.

(*Helliwell, J, Layard, R, & Sachs, J (2016). World Happiness Report 2016, Update (Vol. I). New York: Sustainable Development Solutions Network. World Happiness Report management by Sharon)

The theme for the next photo feature is emotions.

Submit your entry (one per person) with your name, a caption, & information about where you have taken the photo, to sundaydh@gmail.com latest by February 27, 2017.

File size should at least be 500 KB. The subject line for the mail is 'My Take'

A friend, whining about tailoring costs and delays, wistfully said how she wished her grandmother's era was still around.

"She was one of the most elegantly dressed in our family, and all she wore was an unstitched garment. Since the age of 14 years, she had draped a saree. And how gracefully she had carried it off, without the blouse or petticoat. She bought herself one saree annually, and the order for that was placed with the village weaver in advance. No tailors required!"

Draped, or just running metres of wrapped cloth, has successfully been used as attire down the centuries. Perhaps the oldest form of garment, in this part of the world Harappan era figurines stand evidence to that as they portray men wearing cloth around the waist, akin to today's dhoti, while some are shown sporting a turban.

Moving westward, the ancient Roman toga and stola as well as the Greek himation and peplos, are still considered classics. In Latin and Central America, variants of the poncho such as the lliklla, qipirina and sarape, as also shawls like the manta and rebozo continue to be worn with pride. In West Asia and Africa, loose robes or the one-piece kaftan, and a variety of headgear, have traditionally been worn. In the Far East, the sarong and the shawl-like sabai are widely seen on both men and women.

Wear about

The unstitched garment has a long history across the world, but it's primarily in the subcontinent that it continues to be such a dominant form of urban and rural attire. Notwithstanding the influx of structured styles, it's high street fashion here. Its status remains present continuous, despite the swing towards, well, for want of a better word, Western attire.

India's rich textile heritage has ensured we have an incredible range of handspun, handwoven and hand-embellished fabric in intricate and compelling designs. There is, of course, the industrial variety too; its relative ease in production having played a role in cheaper variants flooding the market, but on the flip side, making sure traditions continue.

Look around you and you'll find every home definitely owning some pieces of unstitched apparel. It's not just the saree, the showstopper among them all, but the mundu, lungi, veshti, panchey, dhoti, tehmet, laacha, angavastram, odhni or dupatta to mention a few found in the wardrobes of the country and its neighbours. The headdress, a symbol of honour and status, has also been a significant part of men's attire across the subcontinent. The Sikh dastaar, Rajasthan's saafa, Mysore and Kolhapuri peta, Coorgi vastra, Pathani khula pagri etc are a mere handful of examples.

Furthermore, each region may have a garment used in similar fashion, but it is constructed to different specifications. If we put that down to statistics, almost every individual in the country will have an unstitched piece not matching the other. That is mind-boggling. One of the reasons for that is India still largely shops in the unbranded sector. Such garments let the wearer portray a sense of individuality, unlike branded wear that can be recognised from a distance.

When speaking about unstitched clothing in India, the seven sisters of the North-East — the states of Meghalaya, Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, Manipur, Mizoram, Nagaland, and Tripura — as well as Sikkim, are the crowning glory with a huge repertoire of richly handwoven attires.

The sarong in its many variations governs the indigenous apparel of men and women in the region. It's women-wear, however, that attracts eyeballs. So if Manipur has the phanek, Mizoram is proud of its vibrant puan.

In Meghalaya and Nagaland, the Khasi tribe wears the jainsem and the tap-moh khlieh, the tartan patterned shawl pinned at the shoulders; the Garo women can be seen wrapped in the eking and dakmanda; a Jaintia lady will wear the thoh khyrwang and use the kyrsha, a long piece of silk, as headgear; while the Rabha tribe woman wears the elegantly woven ruphan. Whereas the sarong is usually paired with a blouse, women of Tripura's Khakloo tribe wear just two pieces of running material. And, do they look stunning! Their short width risa is a skilfully embroidered piece for the upper body while the longer, broader rinai is wrapped around the waist and reaches the knees. In Assam, the distinctive three-piece mekhela chador is a prized possession.

The region is dominated by close to thousand tribes and sub-tribes, and each is fiercely loyal towards their customs. One of these is never wearing a shawl of another tribe and proudly flaunting your own. The gorgeous hand-woven shawl thus remains the single most essential piece of garment found across the region, particularly so in Arunachal and Nagaland.

That apart, in the colder northern and western parts of the country too there is an astounding range of woven or embroidered stoles, shawls and sashays for both men and women. In Ladakh, the bok worn by women has a vibrant design on the outerside and yak or goat skin on the inside. Goucha, the robes Ladakhi men wear, will always have the tie-and-dye skerag, a waistband, holding it together. Across the Zoji La, Kashmir has been sourcing pashmina from Ladakh and using it to make gorgeous featherlight shawls. These are basically of two varieties: sozni, which is woven pashmina adorned with delicate needle embroidery, and kani, the handwoven patterned shawl.

Himachal too has a wealth of woollen weaves with Kinnauri and Kullu patterns. These can be seen on regular-length shawls and mufflers, but are most striking on the doru, the short-broad stole draped by women in Kinnaur, and the pattu, a longish woven piece worn over an outfit and fastened with the help of a broach by women in the Kullu region. Men wear the longer, broader loi which is usually plain. In Punjab, the phulkari bagh, a broad handspun, handwoven cotton shawl, is deftly embroidered by grannies for their granddaughters' trousseau. In rural Punjab, during winters men often wrap a chequered khesi, a thick handspun cotton shawl. Across the hills in Uttarakhand, no wedding is complete till the bride is adorned in the deep saffron pichoda, a cotton hand-printed stole which has holy significance. Once married, women wear the stole at all ceremonial occasions.

In the cooler parts of the Nillgiri hills of the Western Ghats that run through the states of Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu, the Toda tribe wears the characteristic black-red-cream pugur or embroidered shawl. In the East, the Mirgan tribe of Kotpad in Koraput district, Odisha, is known for its organically dyed and handwoven stoles and shawls.

Developing economy & the dress

Even though Asia has a longer-lasting tradition of unstitched garments, countries like Japan, Thailand, Korea and China have completely switched to Western wear, draping customary attire only during ceremonial occasions. "The subcontinent, however, still sees the majority wearing traditional attire as, perhaps, our people are largely in rural areas and don't get too affected by Western wear, which does not suit the kind of work done by them in the fields, forests and homes," says Jaya Jaitly, founder-president of Dastkari Haat Samiti and a cultural activist. "If all other practices — like religion, cultural festivities, food and entertainment — continue as per local practices, clothes do not change so fast. Where city influences and work styles have come in, Western wear is adopted more quickly."

Dressing has a lot to do with how one wants to portray oneself. It's eventually about identity, whether of community or country. In societies where rituals and social norms dominate, sticking to custom is part of the culture. "In Asia and Africa, the unstitched tradition has either continued or has been revived after colonialism. In the West, the effects of industrialisation led to machine-cut and stitched clothes taking over and spreading rapidly, while we were still steeped in our traditional identities through dress, food and language. The men in the upper classes in countries that were colonised wore suits as a part of the 'ruler' class, whereas women continued their traditional dress, whether unstitched or not," adds Jaitly.

According to J P Bali, trendswatcher and fashion writer, "The flowing piece of fabric continues to inspire. Whether it's the Grecian-inspired drapes, which was only a piece of fabric draped around the body, or the casual sarong, worn a lot in the East, these are being turned into designer pieces now. In India, the unstitched garment has managed to survive despite the influences from the West, as it has continuously reinvented itself to the modern context."

Cinema and television soaps have also indirectly influenced society and helped tradition stay on course. Social media is another express tool now. Smriti Irani's
#SelfiewithHandloom being such an instant hit on Twitter is a small illustration of that. Besides, the millions of selfies, reviews, photos posted within seconds and online campaigns also spread the good word.

While on the subject, how can we forget The Great Indian Wedding (factory) that is vastly responsible for creating a fashion industry? It has also lent a hand in reviving many a fading costume style. Today, lakhs of rupees are spent on embellishing bridal attire, and for that, almost always the past is dug into.

Designers are going back to their roots and fusing contemporary and conventional with great flair. The high priestess of Indian haute couture, Ritu Kumar, has been singularly responsible for resurrecting tradition and giving it a new direction. A band of talented young Indian designers such as Rahul Mishra, Gaurang Shah, Shruti Sancheti and Shravan Kumar Ramaswamy have brought refreshing ideas on the design table.

They have determinedly been working on reviving traditional Indian weaves and fusing them with modern sensibility in an effort to establish a new idiom where the past and the present blend seamlessly like the weft and warp of a fabric. Designers from the North East — for instance, Arunachal's Yana Ngoba Chakpu — are taking the region's weaves to international ramps and presenting to the world India's rich textile legacy in a contemporary vocabulary.

Among all traditional draped apparel, the saree has been reinvented the most. The saree was the dress of the national struggle and post-Independence, it has been reinterpreted constantly. Through the decades, designers have been applying Western draping and construction methods to it, as a result of which the saree falls in the haute couture category. Its accompanying blouses are statement pieces now, and even the petticoat is receiving significant thoughts.

"In the saree there have been experiments with its basic silhouette. The blending of contemporary demands has brought about an assortment of sarees. There are pre-draped, pre-pleated, fish-cut etc. Besides, the modern fashionista is going back to her roots by asking for antique embroideries like zardozi to be refurbished and used in her contemporary outfit, giving a fresh lease of life to the fabric and embellishment. In fact, this trend of going retro has been on for a few years now. And the urban saree has, in fact, been revived, courtesy this trend. There is a lot of stress on keeping in shape now. The saree best highlights feminine sensuality," elaborates Bali.

For the Indian diaspora, spread around the globe, and the well-heeled Indian, the contemporary saree is a stylish substitute to Western garments. Corporate leading ladies have also set a commendable trend of being draped in a saree and confirming its status as business-wear as well as a pan-Indian fashionable attire.

Considering the easy availability of Western bespoke clothing and branded prêt-a-porter, will traditional wear endure? Jaitly feels, "It depends on how fast we shift from an agriculture-based society to an industrial and technological-based one. Also, how much migration takes place from villages to cities. Of course, reverse migration takes place too, when rural development and infrastructure improves."

A way of ensuring that traditional garments maintain their position is by supporting the handloom sector. Though the government does its bit, it needs to be a joint effort between the government helping weavers and creating opportunities for improvement and marketing, and the society reaching out to wear handloom in any form. The whole nine yards and the smaller yards have come a long way. Hopefully, they will continue to hold sway.

On International Women's Day 2017, the spotlight is on women's progress. New initiatives are being launched to help forge a better world where men and women will be truly equal. This annual focus on women has indeed triggered awareness and positive action. Organisations and individuals, as well as governments, have been making sustained efforts to help women achieve their full potential.

Disparities and injustices entrenched since the dawn of civilisation cannot vanish overnight. The World Economic Forum's Global Gender Gap Report tracks the intensity of gender disparities and the progress made. The 2016 Report covering 144 countries in the crucial sectors of health, education, economy and politics predicts that the gender gap will not be fully bridged until 2186. We are unlikely to see complete equality for half of the human race within our own lifetimes.

However, the progress is impressive. Complex intellectual realms are welcoming more women, and they are shining with unparalleled brilliance. Iranian mathematician Maryam Mirzakhani became in 2014 the first woman and the first Iranian to be awarded a Fields Medal for "her outstanding contributions to the dynamics and geometry of Riemann surfaces and their moduli spaces." The Fields Medal, awarded once in four years, is widely regarded as the Nobel Prize for mathematics.

Achievers all together

Women today are flying higher, and sky is no longer the limit. In November 1997, India-born Kalpana Chawla shattered barriers to fly into space aboard the US space shuttle Columbia. A decade later, Sunita Williams became the second woman of Indian origin to conquer space when she flew aboard the US shuttle Discovery. Today, Canada-born-with-Mumbai-roots Shawna Pandya is in the news with regard to space missions planned for 2018. Closer home, ISRO's women scientists have helped build India's spectacular Mars Orbiter or Mangalyaan project. Rocket science is part of the day's work for ISRO's Minal Sampath, Anuradha T K, Ritu Karidhal, Moumita Dutta, Nandini Harinath, Kriti Faujdar and N Valarmathi. These dedicated women teamed up with their male colleagues to set ISRO's world record by launching an amazing 104 satellites in one shot. Breaking gender stereotypes, these wonder-women earned the applause of every Indian.

India's women are rising to the highest echelons of the corporate world. State Bank of India is among the elite seven Indian corporates to rank among the world's leading Fortune 500 companies. This gigantic Indian multinational is headed by a woman, Chairman Arundhati Bhattacharya. She is listed as the fourth most powerful woman in Asia Pacific by Fortune, and as the 30th most powerful woman in the world by Forbes.

Indian women are taking centre stage in the world of sports. In the 2016 Rio Olympics, Sakshi Malik fought heroically for a bronze medal in wrestling. P V Sindhu earned a brilliant badminton silver. Dipa Karmakar won the nation's heart by finishing fourth, missing a medal by a whisker. She became the first Indian female gymnast, and the first Indian in 52 years, to compete in the Olympics. Wrestler Vinesh Phogat stormed valiantly into the quarterfinals, but missed a medal because of an injury.

To appreciate the changes in our own neighbourhood, I spoke to talented and motivated Bengaluru women from diverse professions and experience levels. Rashmi Misra is founder and chairperson of VIDYA, an NGO providing quality education and uplifting boys and girls from the poorest sections of society. Founded 32 years ago, VIDYA has seen 3.5 lakh people pass through and benefit from its systems. VIDYA currently has around 45,000 young beneficiaries enrolled in its 57 projects spread over five states.

Annabelle Manwaring, Pro Vice Chairman, Delhi Public School Whitefield and Delhi Pubic School Mysore Road, has guided a stream of promising young girls and boys emerging from her schools.

Prof Sahana Das, Head, Dept of Communication Studies, Mount Carmel College, has mentored numerous brilliant young women to follow their dreams. Madhulika Dant, VP and Head — Corporate Search, Daedalus Consulting, deftly matches a growing stream of highly qualified professionals with suitable jobs.Megha More, Co-Founder and COO, Trueweight, balances the challenges of building a start-up while mothering a lively toddler.With a fresh Master's degree in International Relations from S Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Singapore, Shibani Mehta is currently working at the Military Affairs Centre of the Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses in New Delhi. Like many of today's girls, Shibani received full family support to go abroad and enter a career of her choice.

Come what may

These women see growing awareness and social support for women to realise their potential. Madhulika Dant's professional career began three decades ago. "Having given up my career with the Tatas to bring up my children, I can see that husbands today are more supportive at home, in the kitchen and parenting. Equal importance is given to both careers," she says. Megha More agrees. After marriage, she went to the US to join her husband, but a formal job did not satisfy her. She wanted to give her best to an enterprise she could call her own. She and her husband agreed that he would remain in the US, while she went to a new city and founded her enterprise along with a friend.

He wanted her to be happy, and to follow her dreams. He joined her two years later, when both were sure of their choice to return to India. By then, Trueweight was flourishing with around 80 people on board. Having a child was also a joint decision, and they share the duties and joys of parenting their lively three year old. "Today's men are becoming naturally more supportive, and are active partners at home," Megha says. "Improved support system, such as good daycare facilities, helps women make better life choices."

"While we used our education for financial stability and social identity, my students aspire to be free," says Sahana Das. "While my generation balanced home and career, the girls today include their individual passion into their profession." Sahana is proud of her students like Vaishali Dinakaran, who was passionate about racing as a sport. Today, she is a leading writer on Formula One racing. "Another very bright but restless girl said she liked to walk. And she walked... Across the Himalayas! Today, Shikha Tripathy has written for Planet Earth and Nat Geo, and is a travel blogger who organises treks and runs an eco-friendly resort in Uttarakhand."

"The negative attitude towards marriage and family is changing, and there is less gender rivalry among adolescents," says Annabelle Manwaring. "Girls today no longer feel that marriage and family will curb them. Youngsters don't feel that some careers are inferior or better than others. Whether they opt to be homemakers, chefs, entrepreneurs or artists, they want to choose their destinies and give their very best. They see themselves less as boys or girls, and more as seekers of knowledge and self-fulfilment."

Shibani Mehta is inspired by a minister sharing how "her gender played little role in her rise to power. She never used her gender as either a crutch or a privilege. That is something we need to consciously and constantly remind ourselves," Shibani says. "I find these reminders everywhere. A young mother, my boss juggles vaccination appointments and review meetings while fulfilling the commitments of a senior research scholar. I admire my landlady, who at 78 plays golf and drives her own car. Women are each other's best inspiration."

The year 2016 saw steady advances in gender parity. The CRPF sent a path-breaking team of 135 women commandos to tackle Naxalite insurgents in the forests of Jharkhand. More Indian women are donning uniforms to fly military planes, and actively serve in our armed forces. Policewomen are visible everywhere, and women Indian Police Service officers are no longer rare. More women are making their mark in the prestigious Civil Services.

The highly demanding field of medicine has a growing number of Indian women doctors. Karnataka's elite Bangalore Medical College alone has produced several young women Plastic and Orthopaedic surgeons in recent years, proving that women can take on the most skill- and knowledge-intensive challenges.

Indian girls next door are conquering new bastions. Surekha Yadav steered a Mumbai local train in 1988 to become India's first woman train driver. In 2011, she became Asia's first woman to drive a major passenger train, the celebrated Deccan Queen. Other women are following her footsteps. On the streets of our major cities, it isn't unheard of to encounter capable, business-like women auto drivers, bus drivers and bus conductors.
"There's a gradual and positive sea-change," adds Annabelle Manwaring. This optimism is trickling to the most deprived women, feels Rashmi Misra.

In rural Haryana where girls rarely go to school, Rashmi has helped ghungat-smothered mothers emerge confidently from VIDYA centres knowing English and driving. Her underprivileged youngsters have excelled in Board exams and computers. In one of her schools in Delhi, 100 kids scored an IQ of over 120. "Given facilities and exposure, these children are capable of anything. Boys are learning to treat their sisters equally. Not looking down at each other as rivals, they are becoming friends. These girls as well as boys have the capacity for crystal clear thinking, and are shining in the national robotics championships, Maths Olympiads and Mock UN," she says.

The dedicated efforts of countless women, spanning several generations, is building up this change. As a young girl in Delhi, I was fortunate to be inspired by trailblazers in women's education. Smt Kamala Sengupta, retired principal of Delhi's Lady Irwin School, and Prof Bina Dasgupta, retired principal of Indraprastha College, shared their experiences with me. In the early 20th Century, a few such remarkable Bengali women ventured into northern India leaving their homes in undivided Bengal.

Armed with impressive degrees from distant Dhaka University, they helped start schools and colleges for girls in Delhi, where nothing existed. On International Women's Day, let us celebrate this spirit of women who led the way, those striving for excellence today, and for future generations.

Once, a man visiting the huge elephants in the Barnum and Bailey's circus was surprised to see that they were restrained with only a small rope, something that they could have easily broken. Their trainer explained that it was the same size rope that had secured them when they were young. "Back then, this rope was sufficient to restrain them. As they grow up, they are conditioned to believe they cannot break away," he said.

This is the story of Indian womanhood. From the moment of her birth, the Indian woman is constantly being reminded of the perimeters of her life, each of which is intimately associated with dire consequences if breached. These consequences always have to do with the honour of the family, so the burden on the woman is enormous. These invisible shackles, placed on her early in life, make it extremely hard for her to overcome.

Out of moulds

However, women are breaking free of these shackles these days. Yes, these days, women are breaking into many an all-male bastion, and succeeding spectacularly. Take the case of Shanti Devi in New Delhi, who works as a mechanic at one of the largest truck stopovers in Asia, Sanjay Gandhi Transport Nagar Depot. Or, Devi in Tirupur district of Tamil Nadu, who runs a roadside barber's shop and offers hair-cutting and shaving services to men. Nirma Chaudhary of Rajasthan is one of the first female fire fighters of India, and Rukhiya of Wayanad has been a butcher for 30 years. Each one of these women has broken stereotypes about women.

There are more and more heroines like these in the news every day. Rajani Pandit is India's first woman private detective. Neetu Sarkar was married off at 13 years of age, but took up wrestling because of financial difficulties; she's a champion now. And Deepa Malik, a paraplegic, broke two barriers when she became an athlete. These women have challenged patriarchal mindsets in pursuit of their passions.

And there are other equally inspiring stories of women who have fought social prejudices. Shweta from Kamathipura area, the second-largest red light area in Mumbai, was constantly belittled and bullied at school, but fought back. Now she is living her dream of studying abroad at New York's Bard College. Similarly, Puja Wagh, from the Sangamwadi slum in Pune, was to be married off young. However, she not only completed her Master's degree in Commerce, but also passed CA exam in her first attempt.

Her choice!

But then, alongside these stories are other stories of unlikely 'heroines'. What of the women who have refused to marry eligible grooms just because their homes do not have their own toilets? And the women who walked away from the wedding mantap in their wedding finery because the grooms were either drunk, or diseased, or weren't educated, or too old, or demanded too much dowry? When I picture these events actually happening, with family and peers pressuring these women to 'settle' for whatever they got, with visions of familial and social ostracism looming, I get chills — just imagine the courage it must have taken for these women to take a stand.

Let's face it: in India, a 'normal' life for a woman includes marriage, by hook or crook. If you can't find someone, your parents will catch one for you. The bait is cast either through contacts or, in these 'enlightened' times, through matrimonial sites. That is what Induja Pillai's parents did. When she saw how the profile didn't begin to describe the real her, the 24-year-old replaced it with a frank reflection of herself and what she wanted, revealing that she was 'a happy loner, with messy/shabby boy cut hair', and that she didn't intend to grow hair any longer.

The stereotype she broke is just as important as any other, isn't it? To take responsibility for yourself, to boldly state what you want, amid all the hypocrisy that surrounds women — it takes guts.

And, every day now, Indian women are showing that they have guts, in spades. Women are refusing to wear the mangalsutra, which is ridiculously linked to their husbands' mortality. They are refusing to touch their husbands' feet, a tradition which acknowledges a man's superiority to his wife. They are refusing to step back, giving up their dreams to submerge their identities, and become second-class citizens in their own homes. They are refusing to become commodities, to be given away in marriage to another family, and to become baby-making factories for it. And they are questioning norms, and changing equations.

These changes, though they may appear inconsequential and sporadic, reveal a great deal about the emancipation of the Indian woman. They show that she is not only breaking into all-male cliques, but she is also breaking the bonds that are holding her back from achieving her full potential.

Breaking stereotypes is great progress indeed. But even greater is when we break our own limiting beliefs, like when an otherwise-traditional woman makes it a point to invite her friend, a widow, to her Navarathri celebrations. Now, that's progress!

The theme for the next photo feature is cityscapes. Submit your entry
(one per person) with your name, a caption, & information about where you have taken the photo, to sundaydh@gmail.com latest by March 13, 2017.

When I was still in college, a friend who had joined the workforce recounted that when he refused to take a favour from a customer, the older colleagues in office mocked him and said that they were all like that when young and that everyone 'learns' with time.

It is true that everyone learns the ways of the world, and with time the shine of integrity and hard work may begin to dull, but there is always hope that the young will bring fresh energy and ideas into a system controlled by people set in their ways.

The Economic Survey of 2013-14 estimated that India will become the youngest country by 2021, with 64% of its working population in the working age group of 20-35 years. The millennials, as they are referred to, are just not separated by years but by the unique setting of the environment they grew up in. These are first generation digital natives whose knowledge and awareness of social, political, human, environment and world affairs has made them self-assured, assertive, with a mind of their own, and clear life and career aspirations. They are also somewhat entitled, vocal and impatient because growing up in a world connected through the internet, much of what they need has been at their fingertips.

At the cusp of this demographic transition, there is an immense expectation, a promise of the change, development and progress that previous generations too dreamed of but could not completely effectuate. How will a country with 29 as the median age take it forward? What can we expect?

Fair & equal

Their learning, which has been more participatory with discussions, interactions, and hands-on experiences, is more equipping and empowering. The youth expect and will demand a more participatory role in society, politics and governance of the nation. Social, religious and economic hierarchies cannot be magically obliterated but are increasingly frowned upon among the urban, educated. Families walk into restaurants with their domestic help and eat together. This was rare a decade ago. Most urban schools are now co-educational, and more students with disability are studying in mainstream schools. The millennials are, therefore, expected to be more gender- and disability-sensitised.

Civic-minded and aware, Generation X have been assisted and encouraged to transition mindsets and drive social changes. They are aware of matters such as global climate change, conservation, waste management, traffic congestion. This past Diwali, there was a significant decrease in fireworks and crackers — a movement driven primarily by school children. At individual levels too, school kids are involving themselves in social causes. Schoolchildren in a Bengaluru school started a drive to collect old school books and stationery for students from poor families. Social media, for all its apparent flaws, has been a powerful platform for the propagation of ideas, for support of good work.

A country of 1.2 billion people faces immense challenges on all fronts, and the growing awareness of social discrepancies and problems are driving children as young as eight to innovate. Ceiling fans powered by windmill on the roof; spray-on gloves for garbage collectors and labourers; cushioned helmets for construction workers; movable traffic dividers for traffic congestion; wheelchair that converts into crutches; and a low-cost Braille printer — these are all innovations by school students.

Helped by education and awareness of the world they live in, young people are rejecting the politics of vote banks and appeasement. For too long the educated middle classes have been accused of apathy towards the electoral process, but this is changing. There were 10 million first-time voters in our general elections two years ago.

Women & family

Twenty-six-year-old Chanda lives in a rented room with another girl. She cooks in seven homes, earning Rs 3,000 per home. A gutsy girl who commutes on a bicycle and rattles off the names of dishes she can prepare, she confides that her husband left her and their six-year-old daughter for another woman, so she moved from Kolkata to Bengaluru to work. When Nasreen's husband began to demand her earnings from the odd jobs with which she sent her two children to a private school, she refused. He left her. When asked her how she would manage on her own, she showed no sign of worry and replied matter-of-factly that she would just need to work harder. The story of these women is the story of thousands determined to turn gender bias on its head.

The taboos of women living alone, being unmarried, remarried, divorced, single will perish as more women seeking their rightful place in society stop caring. Aware of their rights, girls are eager to study, earn and be independent. More and more girls are caring for and supporting their aged parents. With women getting into top jobs and involving themselves in advocacy and decision-making, there will be greater pay equity and safeguards of their rights. Recently, women bus conductors in Kerala quit en masse over disparity in pay — the men were being paid almost double the salary for the same work. More millennials were born to liberal parents, mixed marriages, and have parents who are relatively more accepting of their lifestyle changes.

More relaxed societal norms also mean there is a healthy mixing of the genders and there is no rush to marry, which has been the only acceptable man-woman relationship in our society. At the age the previous generation began to feel the heat of 'settling down', the millennials continue to focus on career, travel, taking sabbaticals to try new things, study or pursue a new calling. Long-distance relationships and marriages, late marriage and childbearing are common. Clearly, we are a less intrusive society and with more and more youngsters moving out of their parents' home as early as after school to study or to work, the generation has more freedom to make their marital choices. Relocation within the country and abroad for work or education is also a non-issue.

Work is play

More students are opting to work after graduation to finance their higher education. Many are taking a year off to figure out what they want to do; to travel, or to gain work experience for better university prospects. Treasa M, who was unclear about her future, took up a job with a multinational immediately after graduation, so while the paychecks keep coming, she has time to figure out what she wants to do.

We have seen generations of men and women sitting uneasy in their jobs — careers that were thrust upon them because some careers were considered more stable and respectable. Many among these, especially women, unable to balance work and family responsibilities, could never have fulfilling careers. Six months into her Chemical Engineering degree, Mansi A decided it wasn't what she wanted to do with her life and quit to study Environmental Science.

Her parents supported her decision and the six months she was between courses, she utilised in learning a foreign language. Apoorv S, who secured a well-paying, cushy job with a finance company immediately after his post graduation, is preparing to move to the social sector for more gratifying work and use of his education.
Many students are bypassing corporate jobs, where the burnout is quick, for a career in the social sector. There is a definite inclination towards the social sector with volunteer training and social entrepreneurship programmes becoming more popular.

'Best fit' is what one hears repeatedly from Generation X. They are unwilling to compromise. The start-up generation is following their heart over the security of salaried jobs. Though the IT industry is still a big draw for youngsters, students are rejecting seats in poorly-equipped private colleges.

The millennials are up for risks and challenges. They live in the moment and choose experience over assets. They are in no hurry to buy the first car or house. Challenging work and excitement are their driving forces. They grew up knowing their rights, pursuing their interests and hobbies; parents and teachers gave them the freedom to take decisions and find their own solutions — they want this from their careers.

A two-way street

Even as we try and sound upbeat about this young face of India, we must realise that they will turn out only as good or as bad as their education and upbringing. The New Year eve's blot of shame on the face of a very cosmopolitan and urban-liberal Bengaluru cannot be pushed out of our recall. Have we done enough in terms of providing this generation with direction, gender sensitivity, civic and social awareness?

Are the benefits of education and financial security reaching all sections in all parts of the country? The rise in caste-based agitations and demands for reservations is a warning that the youth is angry and frustrated. If the employment rate looks okay, it is because a large part of the population is working in the informal sector. The growing demand for education indicates that the youth will demand jobs in the formal or service sector. Despite increased wealth and a burgeoning urban middle class, a vast majority of India's population remains illiterate and impoverished.

Millennials live in the villages too. Will there be enough income-generating activities that keep people interested in agriculture? The average earning in urban areas is still better than in rural areas, and education and training are by and large oriented towards urban life. What are the living conditions the few big cities with their infrastructure and resources already stretched offer to the growing numbers constantly migrating for work and a better life?

Perhaps there has never been a generation so misunderstood as today's millennials. From being labelled as 'entitled' and 'self-obsessed', to being viewed as a key cog in the wheel that is the ever-changing and evolving society, people have usually embraced the opposite ends of the spectrum. However, the one undeniable fact remains that the millennials have truly ushered a change in workplace culture.

For decades, we Indians have been known to produce some of the brightest minds in the field of engineering and medicine. From the moment we step out of high school, we've been groomed to believe that the only two respectable professions are as either engineers or doctors.

In the past decade, however, we've seen a paradigm shift, not only in the way the society perceives professions, but also in prioritising as individuals. A big part of it has to do with how the millennials have instrumented a change in this train of thought — prioritising creativity and satisfaction over pay checks and fame.

The notion of a predetermined future can be reassuring, and equally infuriating. The generation gap, and the pace at which the technology — and hence the mindset of Gen Y — has evolved, has created a difference in how we see our roles within the society, from what it was a couple of decades ago. Gone are the days when job security meant being content with a desk job; today, we live in an environment where dreams and destiny are the driving forces, and not the longevity or security of a job.

Growing up, we were subjected to a world that was rapidly changing — from technological advancements to the dawn of the digital age; the millennials have inherited a completely different perspective. Looking at the world through different lenses was no longer a novelty, but a necessity. From an ideological standpoint, we witnessed a quantum leap in what was socially accepted, to challenging the norms, and questioning the very fabric of our being.

At the crossroads

I found myself in a familiar situation not too long ago; bright-eyed and optimistic, yet unflatteringly naive about the world, I found myself at crossroads by the time I got out of high school. "You'd do great as an engineer," said a familiar voice — the voice of reason for any adolescent who, up until that point, was cocooned and, much like a deer caught in headlights, had no idea what to do once he was thrust to take on the real world head-on.

However, something very tangible transpired during this time. Rather than believing in the notion of 'what is', I understood the importance of learning by experience. A recent Deloitte survey found that over three quarters (77%) of millennials feel in control of their career paths, and unlike those from the bygone era, we believe in the power of destiny. No longer was I confined to the idea of security and cliched ideology.

By the time we got into college, different avenues opened up; our focus shifted from following in others' footsteps to carving our own path. 'Know thy niche' became the new mantra, and the ideas which were already set in place became mundane. Looking back, it is difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when the two paths diverged — the one that was laid for us, and the one we decided to venture in.

One of the tricky phases in my life came right after my graduation. While we, the younger generation, are often criticised for not giving much importance to the unwritten rules of society, it was at this juncture that I was forced to make a crucial decision. Would I be satisfied with being complacent, and add to the already-overwhelming population of engineers in the country? Or, would I rather take the risk of chasing my dreams — even if it meant venturing down the untrodden path? The answer, at least to me, was quite simple.

Sense of purpose

One other aspect that sets the millennials apart from the rest is a greater sense of purpose. It translates differently in the workplace for different individuals. According to a recent survey conducted by Talentedge, more than 16% of the millennials aged between 21 and 24 years spend more than 12 hours at work. Complacency has been replaced with the desire to grow, and the allure of greater financial stability is no longer prioritised over personal and professional satisfaction.

The other important aspect that has played a prominent role during this transitional phase has been what I like to call the 'option of persuasion'. Corporations began understanding the importance of changing the workplace culture to pacify the needs and necessities of the millennials. The fact that a large portion of the workforce will be filled by Gen Y by 2020 has given the corporations the ammunition required to adopt a more growth-oriented approach. This has also been the primary reason for the growing number of entrepreneurs in India; the proposition of finding a balance between fulfilment and earning has seen us embrace the entrepreneurial mindset.

As one of Bob Dylan's greatest hits goes, the times they are a-changin'. I understood at a very young age that I wasn't cut out to be just another spoke in the wheel; I've always believed that the desire and will to succeed far surpasses every other emotion, while autonomy and flexibility have been the major driving forces in my decision to choose a career path. While the willingness to take these risks can often be misinterpreted as short-sightedness, as the old adage goes, it is what we leave behind that defines us.

Noted educationist, the late H Narasimhaiah, was often derisively referred to as Huch (mad) Narasimhaiah due to his many eccentricities. One day, when HN, as he was popularly known, was standing near National College, which he headed, a person walked up to him and asked mockingly, "Sir, why does everybody call you Huch Narasimhaiah?" Without batting an eyelid, in his characteristic style, HN responded, "Yen maadodhu, eega huch hechaagide" (What to do, the madness has increased now). As the man turned red and beat a hasty retreat, HN let out a hearty laugh.

At the man in the mirror
Most people seldom laugh, and when they do, it is often at the travails of others. But that seems to be slowly changing, with many learning to laugh at themselves. When under extreme pressure, the trend now is to grin and bear it, because worrying only aggravates the problem.

When a friend who returned from a master health check-up was asked about the results, he joked, "Oh, the doctor said I was carrying the Pandavapura sugar factory with me." It took a moment to realise that he was diagnosed to be highly diabetic.

At a job interview, a dark complexioned young man introduced himself as Pradeep Kumar, IAS. A bit perplexed, the interviewer asked him why an Indian Administrative Service officer wanted to join a private firm. With a wide grin the candidate replied, "By IAS I did not mean Indian Administrative Service, but 'Invisible After Sunset'. I am so dark that people cannot see me after the sun goes down."

In a country that is hassled over even a slightly darker shade, Pradeep had decided to take his skin tone in his stride by making light of it. Ironically, humour has its genesis in stress. Bogged by personal and professional pressure, many are turning to spirituality and meditation for solace. With spiritual evolution, more and more people have begun to accept their current reality rather than get immersed in negativity. Spiritual leaders too are resorting to humour in good measure, and a daily dose of laughter, even under the most adverse condition, is seen as the gateway to everlasting happiness.

Today, doctors recognise humour as a tool of healing. Corporate gurus recommend humour to build congeniality at the workplace. Judges and lawyers resort to humour to cool frayed tempers in court rooms. In every walk of life, humour has emerged as a quick-fix solution for stress. The mantra is to lighten up.

Long ago, The Daily Mirror published a photograph of three judges who had delivered a judgment that went against public sentiment, with a caption in bold, 'OLD FOOLS'. When the senior-most judge of the three, Lord Templeman, was asked why no contempt proceedings were initiated against the editor, he replied without any rancour, "Old I am, and a fool I may be in his view. So, where is the contempt?"

Bringing on metaphor
When J H Patel was the chief minister, he faced intense dissidence and the government was on the brink of collapse with a few legislators and ministers submitting their resignation. Instead of cracking under pressure, Patel resorted to humour. "Political plague has broken out and some rats have died. There is nothing to worry. You have always questioned me about my jumbo-sized ministry. Now it is getting pruned automatically," he told journalists. Though Patel's government was teetering from day one, it could last its full term mainly due to his ability to remain humorous even under pressure.

On the domestic front too, couples have begun to rely on humour to diffuse tension. Once, a husband who was known to constantly humiliate his wife, pointed to buffaloes wallowing in slush and said, "Your relatives." Without losing her cool, the wife replied, "Yes, my in-laws." The husband's face shrank and from then on he watched his words.

Counsellors say most marriages fall apart because the husband and wife confront each other over trivial issues instead of laughing them off. With an increasing realisation of the impermanence of life, people have now come to accept that the best way to deal with pressure is to 'let go' and make a joke out of tense situations. After all, life is measured by the instants of happiness that we enjoy, and not by the tense moments that we suffer.

My country, my home

India, by choice!

My Take

Come, stay, create

Lost worlds

My Take

The twilight years

My Take 'shadows'

There's always a way

Say it with verse...

This kinda love

Happy, on a larger scale

My Take

Quietly flows the yarn

She's an eagle when she flies

Breaking free

My Take

The young face

Born this way

Hearty ha ha!