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Humour, at every turn

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It's black humour, but of course. The other good-natured, gentle ribbing really would not stand up to what we are seeing and experiencing in life these days. It's black humour and it is everywhere; it has crept into our everyday lives via the ubiquitous social media networks. And it's addictive. You follow those Tweeters who pun on words and situations. You watch funny videos on YouTube for hours. You chortle, then click a quick 'like' on the daily dose of funnies in your Facebook feed. You watch Mallika Dua do her Make-up Didi act on Snapchat with a grin on your face. The moment the Vigil Idiot (Sahil Rizwan, in real life) posts his latest bitingly witty review of a Bollywood film, you are reading it, even though it may contain spoilers that will spoil the denouement of the movie for you. You need your daily fix of Tumblr toons, after which you are ready to face the day and all it brings.

You open up Whatsapp and there it is: four priceless Silk Board traffic jam memes that have you guffawing. Of course, you appreciate the jokes all that much more, considering you have been stuck at that very junction for the past one-hour-and-twenty-minutes. This is humour under pressure. And this is the main point. Laughing at someone else in an uncomfortable situation, even as you yourself are stuck just at that spot, is in the words of that hoary adage, quite the best medicine.

Once upon a time, not so long ago, jokes used to be of two varieties: one, you watched or heard of something mildly devastating happening to someone, and the immediate thought that flitted across your mind was: luckily it's not me! Your laughter was imbued with relief that whatever happened to the other person did not happen to you. The second kind involved the priceless-idiot type of humour. You watched someone make a fool of themselves and you laughed, as much in sympathy as a sense of superiority that you were too smart to fall into that trap.

Ramped-up humour
Today, though, it's all about shared misfortune. The jokes are in your face, not in the least subtle, and they basically say: magane, we are all in this together. So you might as well sit back and laugh, rather than whine endlessly. And of course, everything is grist for the comedy mill, everything is sent up, mocked mercilessly. We, the people, to start with. Politicians across the world. Policy decisions, that to the layperson, seem more detrimental than beneficial. The latest pronouncements from the moral police brigade. The latest turkey from Bollywood, Kollywood, Sandalwood, Tollywood, What-have-you-wood. Demonetisation. The 45th President of the United States. Standing up for the national anthem. The latest idiotic statement from some celebrity.

Even natural disasters like floods and cyclones are not spared, though those jokes usually start well after the waters have receded, or the cyclone has dropped to a gentle zephyr. If they cross the line of good taste, there is an outcry and the posts are taken down, the poster hauled over the coals, even blocked.

Demonetisation brought in a slew of memes, some rather lame, others ROFL. There were videos of people in queues singing the Demonetisation Song... in Malayalam! Stand-up comedians had a field day with some scathing jokes on the subject du jour.

Stand-up comedy is its own master and most of the acts now have taken on distinct political overtones. Those skewered run the gamut, from venal politicians, the shenanigans of filmstars, the sayings of the neighbourhood aunty, and last but not the least, the people's ability to endure such things for an inordinate amount of time.

The language employed by this humour is free from any literary pretensions and bordering on coarse, some tipping over into downright coarse. But the point is got across swiftly and directly. This, then, is not the Mehmood or Rajendranath, or even the Javed Jaffrey type of comedy. Because these times are simply not those times.

Dissipater of dystopia
Cyrus Broacha was and continues to be a comedy staple, but AIB or the All India Bakchod gang are the arguable pioneers of this we-are-all-in-it-together kind of comedy that walks the rougher edge. Their videos and podcasts spear the system and the citizen with equal impartiality, and just about everything is milked for its fun value. Their roasts being somewhat too pointed for a country where we still tend to sweep everything uncomfortable under the carpet, created a lot of controversy, but there were enough people, and not necessarily all from Gen Y, who got that they were putting 'unmentionable' stuff out there in the guise of humour, and lauded them for their courage.

There is another strand to this humour: contempt. Contempt, expressed through derision and disbelief, and laced with caustic wit, is quite the great leveller. As in, 'you are trying to do a number on me but I'm onto you, so epic fail, bro.'

What is this humour doing? It's calling out all the lies people tell. Behind the laughter is anger at having been had. It's calling out the bigots, religious and social. Behind the laughter is sadness and disgust at the intolerance on display. It's calling out the systemic rot, the deep-rooted corruption that underpins our institutions. Behind the laughter is a thin seam of hope for reform. It's calling out foolish superstitions and taboos of our society. Behind the laughter is the unspoken plea to understand that some rites harm us more than they help us. It's shining a light on bizarre happenings. Behind the laughter is dismay that the age we live in is throwing up such situations. In a post-truth world where we are fed alternative facts by the hour, we need humour to help us face our helplessness.

Think about it. We can't keep up with our government's policy decisions. We can't keep up with a careening economy. We can't keep up with the rapid advancements in technology. We can't keep up with fashion's spinning trends. We can't keep up with the world's fast-rising barriers. We can't keep up with the scams being exposed weekly, the games people play, we can't keep up with our own lives sometimes. What we can do, though, is to laugh at it all.

Laughter tempers anger, frustration, feelings of victimhood, culture shock. And even as the times turn savage, humour too turns proportionately savage. This is humour as dissipater of dystopia.

No one, not even for a minute, is under the delusion that humour can be wielded like a stick to beat off the injustice. But it can, and is being pointed as a stick to reveal the nature of the injustice.

Savage laughter
What are the hallmarks of this humour? Hard-hitting. Irreverent. Sassy as hell. Offensive. Even vulgar. But heck, it makes you laugh.

Basically, in this Age of Anger, there is no place for subtlety or innuendo. So, caustic rules the day. Studies have shown that witty people are followed the most on social media platforms; newspapers and magazines pick up the most amusing of Tweets and feature them. The public soon recognises the Tweeters by their handles and voila! Instant fame!

Humour has always had the edge over more serious emotions. The advertising agencies jumped on this bandwagon years ago, knowing that nothing sells, nothing sticks in the memory bank, quite like something funny. Apparently, a whopping 72% who follow a particular brand on social media are likely to make a purchase.

When we laugh, we release endorphins, which are neurotransmitters in our brain. These endorphins are responsible for making us feel happy and help us keep our stress levels down.

We love to laugh. And we love to laugh at the mess we are in. A hearty laugh of the head-thrown-back variety allows us to release all the negative emotions, leaving us in a more relaxed state of mind. We'll face all our troubles tomorrow; today, we'll just sit back and laugh.

There is this popular misconception that Indians can only laugh at others, not at themselves. There we are a stiff, starchy lot, easy to take umbrage quickly, and definitely not ones to laugh at our own foibles.

That notion has been turned on its head by all the YouTube comedy videos; by Varun Grover, Anubav Pal and their ilk; by the slew of Alok Nath sanskari jokes, Girliyapa and the East India Comedy group; by the hilarious takes on Buzzfeed and comedy clips on FM radio; by Bengaluru's own Kanan Gill and Biswa Kalyan Rath, as well as Nograj, Danish Sait in real life; by listicle sites like Scoopwhoop. By The Unreal Times, by all the hashtag humour found online today and gone by tomorrow. There's the Kapil Sharma and Pammi Aunty variety for those who like buffoonery masquerading as humour — and a whole lot of people do!

Humour is really having its protracted moment in the sun. It has suddenly become so easy to shoot and upload, to shoot your mouth off. Can Indians laugh at themselves? Yes we can. And loudly, at that.

Call of the open road

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Had they not listened to their hearts and doggedly followed their dreams, a part of them would have always remained unfulfilled. Had they not packed their bags, and driven away, to explore the unknown, down the road less travelled, they would never have known their limits and would've never discovered some of the ultimate road trips around the world.

Any other way of feeding their sense of wanderlust would have perhaps paled in comparison. Sunday Herald spoke to expedition specialists and long-distance travellers who give us the lowdown on what it takes to go on trans-continental road journeys.

Roadies at heart

There are those who dream of travelling the world, and then there are some who go ahead and make it happen. Tushar Agarwal and Sanjay Madan were the first Indians to undertake a world trip in their Toyota Fortuner, covering 90,000 km across six continents and 50 countries. And this, they insisted on doing the old fashioned way. By reading road maps and signages, and of course, rolling down the window and asking for directions. "We didn't use a GPS simply because we wanted to interact with more people and open ourselves to more local experiences along the way," explains Madan, who gave up a successful business in medicine to partner with Agarwal, a software engineer from London.
A chance meeting is what brought them together after they both featured in the Limca Book of Records — Madan for driving in a Tata Nano to Khardung La Pass, one of the highest motorable roads in the world, and Agarwal for having driven from London to Delhi. They realised that they got along like a house on fire, and together decided to go on 'The Great Indian World Trip' in 2013.

A trip that saw them travel through continents and cultures — discovering people, places, languages, food and fun. Right from climbing on top of a pagoda to enjoy the view in Myanmar to trying out kangaroo meat in Australia, from catching the wildebeest migration in Africa to dancing the tango on the streets of Argentina, from witnessing the spectacular northern lights in Alaska, to wearing a kilt in Scotland. Madan and Agarwal have documented all of this and more, in the form of a book and a TV series, with the help of Prasad Deshpande, a filmmaker and dear friend, who travelled with them on the 15-month long journey. The duo also created a Guinness World Record for the longest journey in a foreign country, where they drove 17,107 km in Australia alone.

Similarly, Nidhi Tiwari, who always wanted to be an 'adventurer' for as long as she can remember, made it to the Limca Book of Records for being the first Indian woman to drive from Delhi to London in 2015. A year later, she took things a step further when she embarked on a solo trip to Siberia. A feat no other Indian has attempted, though, for Tiwari, who is an outdoor educator, and someone specialising in off-the-road jeeping as well as long-distance and high-altitude driving, this was just another way of pushing boundaries and continuously testing herself.

She drove 5,080 km in 14 days from Yakutsk, the world's coldest major city, to Magadan and back, on one of the most dangerous roads in the world, the Kolyma highway, also called the Road of Bones. Taking classroom education to a different level, she even kept in touch with 15 Indian schools that had signed up for an educational expedition, where she sent them photos and videos, apart from holding Skype conversations with the students about her experiences on the road.

While some choose to go solo and the others with friends, there are also those who travel with family. Like Punita and Anand Baid, who decided to travel from Bengaluru to Paris with Yash and Dhriti, their two kids. Team L.I.F.E. or the Little Indian Family of Explorers, as they have named themselves, covered 11 countries in 111 days, clocking 22,800 km in their Fiat Linea.

They drove past the Himalayas in Tibet, climbed sand dunes as high as mountains in Western China, visited the world's largest burning crater in Turkmenistan, and swam in the Caspian Sea, amongst other exciting experiences.

Though, as team L.I.F.E. and all the other explorers would agree, journeys of such magnitude often entail a host of challenges, and are fraught with many difficulties. Route planning, visas, insurance, overland permits, logistics — in short, there's mounds of paperwork involved. Once you're on the road, other challenges turn up — like car breakdowns, language barriers, and very importantly, finding vegetarian food, to name a few. However, scoring sponsors and funding for the trip always seem to top the list.

Challenges aplenty

"The world trip was almost an impossible one to pull off. We never had enough funds and finding sponsors was difficult," says Agarwal. "There was a time in Australia when we had just about enough money to either put fuel in the car or buy food. So for one week we lived on bread, butter and jam," he recalls.

Tiwari too found out the hard way that sponsors were not easy to come by, "mainly because of the stereotypes associated with women and driving, and also because I wanted to drive solo," she reveals. Funding aside, she faced her real challenge when it came to driving through the Siberian wilderness in her Toyota Land Cruiser on long, empty stretches of roads that are built on permafrost with temperatures falling to -50C or lower. It certainly wasn't a drive for the faint-hearted. She passed through towns where people barely spoke English, surviving mostly on meat — mainly horse, caribou, fish and beef, both raw and frozen. Calling it the toughest expedition of her life, Tiwari says, "Siberia was extreme from the word go and I had to continuously work on myself to keep moving on. It was only post the expedition that I got a chance to process and think about what was nice about the trip."

For the Baids, however, the scariest was when they got stuck at the Nepal-China border during the Nepal earthquake. "We had to sleep in our car for five nights due to broken roads and constant aftershocks which led to rocks and boulders falling from above," recalls Punita.

But the one person who probably had it the hardest is Bharulata Kamble, a British national of Indian origin and a lawyer by profession, who undertook a solo expedition in her BMW X3 from UK to India last year via the Arctic Circle to fulfill a long-standing dream — of driving to India, spreading awareness on educating the girl child.

Her journey is especially inspiring because she undertook it after recovering from a serious car accident and a long bout of post-traumatic stress disorder. For someone who loved driving, Kamble was even terrified of stepping into a car. It took her four-and-a-half years to recover, and a few more to get behind the wheel again. Recalling her experience, she says, "My recovery was a slow and painful journey, but I wanted to fight the anxiety and be the hero of my own life."

She drove with a back support and popped painkillers whenever required, covering 35,383 km across 32 countries in 57 days. Her grit and determination has seen her become the first woman in the world to complete the Arctic Circle expedition.

Kamble's trip was entirely self-funded, but wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all do road trips, and get paid for it? Wouldn't it be your dream job?

Turning passion into a profession Rishad Saam Mehta, a Mumbai-based travel writer, author and photographer, is living that dream. A seasoned traveller, Mehta is a fine example for anyone wanting to make a career out of travelling, mostly road trips and writing. He attributes his love for travel to all the trips taken with his family as a child, and his penchant for 'storytelling' that has seen him contribute to major publications and dailies in the country.

Speaking about his stint with a leading automotive magazine, Autocar India, he says, "For eight years, I worked as their travel correspondent and that made me really proficient in road travel in India and across the world." Since then, Mehta has been invited by tourism departments of various countries to explore self-drive routes and holidays. As for his longest road trip, from Munich to Mumbai, it came as an assignment to test-drive the Audi Q7 and write about the experience. An assignment most of us would willingly give an arm and a leg for!

The trip saw him cover over 20,206 km across nine countries in 58 days without any breakdowns — not even a single flat tire. His most memorable moments "were to take a photograph of me with my Maharashtra-registered car in front of world landmarks like the astronomical clock in Prague, St Basil's Cathedral in Moscow, the Great Wall in China, India Gate in Delhi, the Taj Mahal in Agra and VT Station in Mumbai." Mehta is also an avid biker, has written two books on his travels across the country, and is associated with a company called MotoRover in Pune, which takes people on self-ride motorcycling trips to unusual destinations like Kyrgyzstan.

Similarly, Madan and Agarwal have set up Adventures Overland, a cross-country expedition company, in Gurgaon. Even as you are reading this, they are gearing up for a self-drive road trip with a convoy of 14 cars, where they are taking a group of people from Delhi to London, including a 72 year-old man and his nine-year-old granddaughter.

As for Tiwari, setting up Women Beyond Boundaries (WBB) came as a natural extension of her thoughts, for she believes that "mobility is critical for a woman to feel empowered." WBB conducts training courses in extreme overland driving for both men and women. Currently they have planned an expedition to Spiti in April to practice extreme driving skills in the rugged Himalayan terrain. Based in Bengaluru, the Baids too have set up Overland Stories to share their personal experiences from their trip to Paris. They also offer private consultations for those interested in undertaking similar expeditions. Anand, especially advises parents "to travel with their children often and for as long as possible. It will undoubtedly remain your best parenting decision," he says.

Life lessons learnt


No journey is complete without us having learnt some valuable life lessons on the way. As for our road-trippers, everyone unanimously agrees that the world is not such a bad place after all. Kamble's good experiences with the locals in Russia and China made her realise that most issues stem out of political differences between countries. The Baids wholeheartedly agree with her, recalling the incident when the Chinese army provided them with food and other essentials during the Nepal earthquake.

Agarwal adds, "People went out of their way to arrange food, fuel and accommodation for us. If we had enough funds from the beginning, our world trip wouldn't have been so special." As for Madan, he urges everyone to always try the regional cuisine, for he believes that, "Food is the easiest way to connect with people and it helps you forge friendships for life."

Travel not only helps us appreciate and learn from another culture, but it also teaches us to stop rushing through life, learn to live in the moment, and be one with nature. As Anand puts it, "The world is beyond beautiful, and no amount of HD and high-tech imagery can replace the oneness of being with nature, and in it." Mehta adds, "In a world where everything comes to us electronically, or is home-delivered, it is all the more important to include adventure in our lives. It makes for a life better lived."

So, for those of you who've been longing for that road trip, do so now. It doesn't matter how far you go, for when you look back, all that will seem to matter is — that you did.

Bon Voyage!

Liked! Digital darlings

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These are that breed of artistes who aren't on television, aren't on films, they don't need any media except their houses, rooms, their own television sets, their own cameras, and they do some amazing stuff."

That was Bollywood Baadshah Shah Rukh Khan talking to a motley of millennial and Gen Z, at the 2014 YouTube fan fest about a bunch of young men along with him on stage. Nothing new about SRK talking to his audience. But what surprised the slightly older or the 30-plus in the audience was the excitement, screaming and cheering that went up cutting his sentence in the middle when a girl in white loose T-shirt, red cap, red sneakers came from behind him on the stage. Even the Baadshah had to step back to acknowledge her popularity. (The video is still on YouTube)

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JO6x9Xn6CsM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

[see from 7.09 onwards]

That was Lilly Singh, a Canadian with Indian parentage. All of 28 years old, Lilly is known to her fans as IISuperwomanII, is the new star who, as SRK said, is neither on TV nor on films. In the last three years, her fan base too has doubled. And she isn't the only one who is more popular than the Khan triumvirate of Bollywood, or for that matter, even pop music sensations like Justin Bieber, Zayn Malik, Selena Gomez and their ilk.

There are other stars who the youngsters around the globe swear by. Stars like Liza Koshy, Ryan Higa, Tyler Oakley, David Dobrik and many others from the West. In India, we have innumerable names, and every day new names get added to the list. The gang of AIB-All India Bakchod (Tanmay Bhat, Rohan Joshi, Gursimran Khamba, Ashish Shakya), EIC-East India Comedy (Kunal Rao, Sorab Pant, Sapan Verma, Sahil Shah, Azeem Banatwalla et al), Abish Mathew, Zakir Khan, Karan Talwar, Anisha Rickshawali, Kenneth Sebastian, Kunal Kamra, Sahil Khattar, Bhuvan Bam, Sanjay Thumma, Nisha Madhulika, Sanam Puri, Shruti Anand, Dr Vikram Yadav, and the list is endless.

The new breed of stars are very ordinary folks — students, homemakers, musicians, tech professionals, teachers, beauticians, chefs, medical professionals or any others one can think of. They have completely succeeded in enthralling millions of people across the world. The medium they use to reach people is the Internet and video sharing websites like YouTube, Facebook, Twitter and others which are collectively called the social media. They are known as YouTubers, vloggers etc.

They're all in it

In fact, the social media can easily be labelled as the parallel universe of entertainment. Within a span of a decade, it has become the baap of all entertainment, or the Goliath of all amusement. Every millennial swears by it and each one of them from Jhumri Telaiya to Delhi, or from Timbuktu to LA, are on to it, and talking about it.

And the best part is that none of the current social media stars knew that their one innocuous video or tweet would catapult them into a whorl of popularity.

Karan Talwar, known by the name of Bollywood Gandu on social media, who is more popular on Twitter, started tweeting with irritation by the nadir the Bollywood films had reached. He was wondering as to why there was such a stoic silence from the audience. "Today everyone has become a critique. Six years ago, when I first tweeted about the film I Hate Luv Storys, there was no one and I got about 120 tweets within a couple of hours, and none of them were from my friends' circle. I was pleasantly surprised and thus started my saga on Twitter," recalls Karan. Today, he has more than 1.83 million followers on Twitter, and on Instagram the number is 61.6k, and about 1.15 million likes on Facebook.

Similar accidental venture into this medium is by another comedian Anisha Dixit, a YouTuber, who is better known as Rickshawali. The particular name as her life on social media started in an autorickshaw in Mumbai. Anisha, who was born and brought up in Germany, after studying acting in Lee Strasberg Theatre and Film Institute in LA, had come to Mumbai to get a foothold in the Hindi film industry.

"Had done several rounds of studios, auditions etc. Did some theatre work also. But it was a no-good breakthrough. Then in November 2013, I was in a rickshaw going from Andheri (a suburb in Mumbai) to meet a friend. I had a brainwave of making that rickshaw with colourful pink interiors as my backdrop, my iPhone as my video camera, and started talking about the film Goliyon Ki Rasleela Ram-Leela. I casually uploaded it on YouTube. The kind of response I got baffled me, and so here I am, a YouTuber," says the chirpy Anisha who, within three years, has nearly two lakh subscribers on YouTube, 1.74 lakh likes on Facebook, and nearly 7k followers on Twitter.

Imagine the humungous number of followers of these stars. Lilly Singh has 11 million YouTube subscribers with 1.7 billion viewers, and her channel IISuperwomanII is in the top 100 most subscribed. The 28-year-old was ranked 3rd on the Forbes list of world's highest paid YouTube stars in 2016 by Forbes, reportedly earning $7.5 million that year. And to think that she is only six years old on YouTube! And here we have the sensational Tanmay Bhat, who has more than 4.5 lakh likes on Facebook, and his gang of AIB has 2.9 million likes and 6.72 lakh followers. In fact, in 2016, the gang was ranked 82 by Forbes India's top earning celebrities list, and 73rd in the fame rank. And they are just three years old in the business. In fact, most Indian YouTubers and vloggers are about three years old in the 'art'.

Nothing but the truth
In an earlier interview, 29-year-old Tanmay had said, "Nothing changes by these rankings. I literally got yelled at by my Mom for not getting my haircut." That may be so in their personal life, but, for the outside world, these social media stars are the icons!

What makes these stars sensational is that they aren't hampered by any dictates from anyone. They can and do take on any subject under the Sun — sex, parent troubles, films, politics, education, society, gender, law, food, fashion and any other subject that actually touches the youth of today. They make candid statements, tongue-in-cheek, and use the jargon of the youth or the Gen Z, which is the population between 13 and 18 years old, and millennials under 25 years of age! So, in a video, the usage of words like F**k, Chu***a, Teri M***i etc are regular. In fact, while viewing the videos, though the staid and plus-40s might get offended initially, later on one will realise that it's the language the youth uses today. Cuss words are regularly and harmlessly used. (One hopes parents of this age group get used to hearing these words without getting scandalised or offended).

These stars also dress casually like any ordinary teenager — jeans, T's, loosely hanging sleeves-rolled shirts, sneakers etc. Even if they wear jackets, it's very casual — they wear it over a T rather than on a shirt with rolled-up sleeves. The youth relate to this. The vloggers talk straight to the camera, making the viewer feel as though they are personally talking to every individual.

Vijay Nair, the CEO of OML (Only Much Louder) Entertainment, which manages a maximum number of stand-up comedians, musicians, storytellers and their social media accounts in India, feels that just getting traffic, increased tweets and likes isn't enough. "Anybody can have their own YouTube channel, post a video and tweet. It's easy to become a one-time sensation. But to sustain popularity, there has to be substance in what they are talking about. It has to be relevant, should touch a chord. Only then can one survive on social media and make a career out of it," says the man who heads a multi-crore business organisation.

In his early 30s, Nair knows the pulse of the youth as he himself started his career at the age of 18, after dropping out of college and started managing well-known music bands. "I go by my gut feeling. I know what the youth, the Gen Z, is thinking, and we at OML recognise people who can deliver this," he says. He feels that as long as the smartphones get smarter, and the Internet flourishes, the popularity of the parallel universe of entertainment will not subside.

And it's not only the entertainment industry of comedians, musicians and their ilk that is getting famous. Cooking videos are the second-most popular videos viewed on YouTube. Especially newlyweds, who have zero knowledge of cooking, hungrily latch on to these vloggers who become their lifesavers in their in-laws' homes.

When Noida-based Nisha Madhulika uploaded her first video in 2011, she never realised that she would become one of the most sought after cooks for vegetarian dishes on YouTube. At 56 years of age, dressed like any normal homemaker, talking in simple Hindi, and cooking in a kitchen that looks like one's own kitchen without any exotic gadgets or décor, she is perhaps the oldest YouTube sensation. She has uploaded nearly 1,200 cooking videos. She is also one of the very few who doesn't take any sponsors or advertisers on her channel. In 2016, she was clubbed as one among the top 10 Indian YouTubers.

Then there is the Moradabad-based Dr Vikram Yadav. While studying for his MBBS, he realised he and his other friends depended a lot for information on the Net. After graduation, he decided to help others get this information easily. So he started uploading videos of the information he had gathered, the problems he encountered while handling a case, and the treatment he had administered. That got him unimaginable responses. So now he uploads a minimum of two videos a week — Sunday and Wednesday — and has 3 lakh subscribers for his YouTube channel titled Medical and Educational Videos.

The question, how and how much money these social media stars make?

According to Aditya Gupta, co-founder of iGenero, an interaction social media agency which helps brands find their feet on the web, on mobile, and on digital media, "Consumers of television, films, print media etc are getting tired of advertisements. This is forcing brands to be more creative. So they have started latching on to social media stars. A clever Twitter handler will use a name of the brand without being blatant about it, and he or she gets paid depending on their popularity on the social media."

He says people get paid anything between Rs 50 and Rs 20,00,000 per tweet, depending on the popularity of the social media star. A YouTuber might get paid more for the use of brands in their video.

Rickshawali says, "I charge according to the work the sponsor or the brand is doing. If it's for a good cause, like women's empowerment, children's health and education, I might do it free. But if it's just the use of brands to go with my name, then I charge accordingly."

Bollywood Gandu says, "When brands started approaching me to use their names for a payment, initially I was a bit surprised. Then I found that it was good money! It was like bonus money. I certainly wasn't saying no!" Brands that use his name are Flipkart, Amazon, Paytm, Cadbury etc. They sometimes ask him to hashtag or use pre-written messages in his tweets.

Komal Lath of Tute Consultancy helps brands reach their target, zeroes in on the YouTubers or Twitter handlers whose name could help the particular brands. "We identify these people for our brands and do the negotiations with their managers for them to use our brands either in their tweets or videos."

So the new parallel universe entertainers make money while we get entertained almost at no cost, sitting in the privacy of our homes, while travelling, in office, or anywhere, as long as we are glued to our smartphones, and are hooked to the Net!

My Take

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The theme for the next photo feature is SEASON IN THE SUN. 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 April 10, 2017.

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

A place in the sun

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If you are wondering how to escape the sweltering summer heat, here are our picks of six hill getaways spread across the country. Some of them were originally summer capitals of Indian princedoms and summer headquarters for the British.

The British built resorts to which they could escape for rest and recuperation. Soon they became summer capitals of the governors, and later, popular summertime destinations. Tucked far away from the hustle and bustle of the cities, these hill stations offer a medley of salubrious weather, stunning landscape, outdoor pursuits, and a slice of history. You'll find a potpourri of vacations to choose a memorable getaway. So pack your bags and retreat to the cooler climes of these hill stations.

Matheran, a walker's paradise
If you want to give your eyes and ears some rest, your feet some exercise, and shed some weight in a few days, all you have to do is head to Matheran, the only pedestrian hill station in Asia. Vehicular traffic is prohibited, which accounts for the healthy, clean and unpolluted environment. In this walker's paradise, you can trudge along the red-gravel kutcha road, or the tiny railway track, or hire horses to navigate you to the 38 designated lookout points bearing those exotic English names and a peculiar charm.

Matheran is an undulating hilltop cloaked in shady trees and ringed by walking trails leading to several vantage points from where one can have stunning views of the cliffs, plains, grassy glades and the mountain range. One can hike one's way through wooded pathways winding through towering evergreen trees, ferns and wild flowers to see the green carpeted slopes and cliffs and the whorls of haze, blue mist swirling down the mountains into the gorges from these points.

From Porcupine Point, one can see the dramatic sunset and hear one's own voice thrown back at Echo Point; Louisa Point flaunts a beautiful plateau and the ruins of the Prabhal Fort. The Hart Point offers you a view of the night lights of Mumbai. You can reach the valley below Tree Hill, down the path known as 'Shivaji's Ladder'. It is so called because the Maratha leader is said to have used it. From Panorama Point, you can get a bird's-eye view of Neral town, and on a clear day, even as far as Mumbai in the west. Round off your trip with a visit to the main bazaar. Shop around for touristy knick-knacks and sip cups of piping hot masala chai over nibbles of vada pav.

Wayanad, Malabar's gem
If you go to Wayanad district scouting for a place called Wayanad, you are likely to be disillusioned! There is no place by that name. Interestingly, though the district is called Wayanad, unlike Kerala's other district headquarters, this one is not named after the district. Wayanad in local parlance means paddy country, but there is hardly any trace of paddy here. Keeping the district headquarters Kalpetta as the base, explore the myriad tourist attractions of the district.

If you have a flair for history, visit the pre-historic Edakkal Caves formed out of a strange disposition of three massive boulders on the crest of Ambukuthimala, a hill near Sultan Bathery. For the laid-back, there are mist-cloaked, undulating hillsides swathed in spice plantations, hedged by lush rainforests, rushing rivulets, and sparkling cascades that stun the eyes with their varying shades of green. Take a boat ride in the freshwater Pookode Lake near Lakkidi. This placid lake gets its name from the myriads of white and mauve water lilies that grow within.

For a whiff of raw adventure, take the nine-kilometre trek through the dense forests to Pakshipathalam, a grotto of caves crafted by nature millions of years ago in Brahmagiri Hills, climb up Chembra Peak, the tallest summit in this region, pitch a tent, or go island-hopping to Kuruva Dweep, a 950-acre maze of islets.

The ancient Mahavishnu Temple at Thirunelly, set against the backdrop of the towering Brahmagiri Hills, is a big draw for those of a religious persuasion. A ritual dip in the Papanasini river, flowing downhill, will wash away one's worldly sins. There's also the Sultan Bathery Jain Temple, which was Tipu Sultan's ammunition dump. The town derives its name from that use. Culminate your sojourn with a visit to Tholpetty and Muthanga wildlife sanctuaries, which form part of the Nilgiri Biosphere Reserve.

In tea country, Munnar
With its sprawling tea plantations, rolling hills, sparkling waterfalls, picture-postcard hamlets and undulating valleys of lush greenery, Munnar has all the makings of an idyllic holiday destination. If you want to delve into the history of tea tradition in the High Ranges, just walk into India's first tea museum set in an over-a-century-old tea estate of the Kanan Devan Hills Produce Co.

The drives out of Munnar through some of the far-flung tea estates are pretty interesting, especially the one leading to the dams of Mattupetty, Kundale, and also to Top Station, perched precariously on a precipitous ridge in Tamil Nadu, three kilometres from the inter-state border. This idyllic spot has stupendous views of the Tamil Nadu plains and the edge of the Western Ghats. En route, scream your lungs out at the Echo Point and take a cruise in the picturesque backwaters of the Mattupetty Dam, flanked by steep hills and dense woods, and you are sure to catch glimpses of wild elephants quenching their thirst on the far side.

Munnar's allure lies in its proximity to a host of attractions like Kolukkumalai, acclaimed to be 'the highest tea plantation in the country' churning 'the most flavoursome tea in the market'. Within driving distance is the Eravikulam National Park where you can spot the endangered Nilgiri Tahr gambolling freely on the slopes within touching distance. It plays host to the 8841-ft Anaimudi, the highest peak south of the Himalayas, and also shelters the exotic and endangered Neelakurinji plant which covers the hills with its mauve blossoms once in 12 years. In the vicinity of this tea town is Kerala's largest natural sandalwood plantation in Marayoor and Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary where you can spot the endangered star tortoises basking in the sun, and the giant grizzled squirrel, the star attraction of the sanctuary.

Cool, cool Coonoor
If you want to skip 'Snooty Ooty' and give its regular tourist attractions a miss, head off the beaten path tracks to Coonoor. From Mettupalayam, hop on to the tiny toy train (1899-built Nilgiri Mountain Railway train, a UNESCO World Heritage Site) which chugs through the middle of small hill hamlets, providing a scenic thrill around every bend. The wheezing and whistle screeches of the train echo across the valley, as it pushes the carriages forward, across ravines, through tunnels, bridges and hugging mountain slopes, and passing rushing streams and sparkling waterfalls and toy-like stations with quaint names like Adderley, Hill Grove, Runnymede and Ketti, where Shah Rukh Khan gyrated to 'Chaiyya, Chaiyya' atop a train.

Head to the cooler reaches of Upper Coonoor, which are still quiet and peaceful. Visit the lovely Botanical Gardens of Sim's Park, which feature more than 1,000 plant species. The drives out of Coonoor are refreshing with the towering eucalyptus and cinchona trees rising from the slopes, their mingled fragrance teasing the senses. Lamb's Rock, a sheer precipice which drops down several hundred metres into the heart of dense jungle, provides a stunning view of the Coimbatore plains. From Dolphin's Nose, a rock resembling a dolphin's snout, you can see Catherine Falls, a silver cascade, on a clear day. Don't miss 'Sixth Mile' and 'Ninth Mile', designated film shooting areas which have been immortalised in many a Bollywood dance sequence.

The drive from Kotagiri to Kodanad, past sprawling tea plantations, rolling hills, arch-shaped, thatched barrel-vaulted Toda temples, and undulating valleys of lush greenery, is exhilarating. Claimed to be the smallest and oldest of the trio of hill resorts in the Nilgiris, Kotagiri is now a tea plantation territory, and the region offers splendid walks.

From Kodanad Viewpoint (6,400 ft, near Kotagiri), the views of Rangaswamy Pillar and Peak are simply awesome. The stunning view of the Moyar river snaking its way and emptying into the Bhavani Sagar Dam will remain vividly etched in your memory.

Manali, an alpine getaway
Located at the northern end of the Kulu Valley, at the confluence of the Beas and Manalsu rivers, this alpine getaway is synonymous with streams and bird song, scenic landscape and snowcapped mountains, ancient Hindu temples and Tibetan monasteries. It has currently metamorphosed from a backpacker's jaunt to a flamboyant destination. For adrenaline junkies, there's a gamut of breathtaking adventure sports and outdoor activities like trekking, white water rafting and skiing in this great outdoors destination.

According to legends, the name Manali is derived from Manu, the abode of Manu, who came here for the renewal of life after the great deluge.

Visit the several Tibetan monasteries bang in the heart of the town. Stop by the handicraft centre if you wish to pick up thangka paintings and handwoven carpets. If you want to 'see' and 'touch' snow for the first time, head to Snow Point, the closest point to Manali with ample snow. You can build your snowman, hurl your buddies with snowballs, and amble around in snow shoes.

Explore on foot the nearby hamlets of Old Manali and Vashisht. Admire the laid-back charm of old wood-and-stone houses, visit the old market and relish a delicious meal at a riverside café. Try the pan-fried trout with lemon and garlic, or the wood-oven-baked trout with roasted almond sauce. Stop by the little hamlet of Vashisht located on the left bank of the Beas on the northern side of the valley. It is renowned for its hot springs, temples and stone houses. Soak yourself in the sulphurous hot water springs and experience the magic.

A grassy path leads to the Hidimba Temple, which was featured in Mani Ratnam's Roja. It stands tall among the stately deodars in a clearing in the dense forest. The temple has a four-tiered pagoda-shaped roof, and a carved doorway that is embellished with figures of Hindu gods and symbols.

Shillong, Scotland of the East
Located in Khasi Hills, Shillong is a three-hour drive from Guwahati. With its old world charm and lingering echoes of the British Raj, spectacular sunrises, pine-covered hills, green lakes, polo ground, championship golf course, Victorian bungalows, churches, singing brooks and crashing cascades, Shillong, the capital of Meghalaya, earned the sobriquet 'Scotland of the East'. The British influence is discernible in the names of the waterfalls which abound here. Picnics, boating and day-long hikes are punctuated with leisurely shopping. Attend the concerts in Shillong, which has a vibrant music scene, and don't forget to try out the roadside momos.

Start with a visit to Umiam Lake, better-known as Barapani (big water), which sets the mood for a lovely destination ahead. One can hire boats to splash around the placid lake created as part of a hydroelectric project. The Don Bosco Museum of Indigenous North East Culture, a truly amazing repository of information on the entire North Eastern states, is worth a peek.

If you need more enervating exercises, there is the Shillong Peak to climb with its summit of 1,965 metres, affording a splendid view of the city and its outlying environs on a clear day. In the evening, the city lights below glitter and twinkle like a giant Christmas tree. Shillong and its environs resonate with the sound of thundering waterfalls that hurtle down the hill slopes, spraying its surroundings with a delicate mist of water. Mawsmai Falls, Elephant Falls, Bishop Falls, Spread Eagle Falls, Sweet Falls, Crinoline Falls and Beadon Falls are the well-known ones.

Explore the Mawsmai Caves, an atmospheric system of caves and tunnels filled with stalagmites and stalactites. Stop by Nartiang, the summer capital of the Jaintia kings. Take a look at the incredible collection of monoliths and standing stones raised by these kings.

Heritage matters

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The year 1972 was a year of milestone UN conferences. June that year saw the UN Conference on the Human Environment in Stockholm, the gathering that gave us World Environment Day. Five months later, in November 1972, the General Conference of UNESCO adopted the Convention concerning the Protection of World Cultural and Natural Heritage. This was the conference that gave rise to World Heritage Sites (WHS), places that are deemed 'irreplaceable sources of life and inspiration', as UNESCO eloquently put it. These are monuments, sites or landscapes that have Outstanding Universal Value — cultural and/or natural significance that 'is so exceptional as to transcend national boundaries and to be of common importance for present and future generations of all humanity'.

India ratified the Convention in 1977, and in 1983, got the first set of sites inscribed on the World Heritage Site list — the Ajanta and Ellora caves, Taj Mahal and the Agra Fort.
That was then. Today, there are 35 sites in India that have been declared World Heritage.

WHS is a much sought after status. It instantly leads to greater visibility worldwide, leading to an influx of heritage tourists from around the world. What were once little known and scarcely visited monuments or sites, often in remote areas, are suddenly catapulted onto the world stage when they are inscribed on the WHS list.

Dr SVP Halakatti, who retired as director of the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI), points out that an important benefit is that the site gets better-protected. WHS managers can draw on technical expertise from UNESCO and other international bodies to better-conserve and manage the site. Additionally, WHS norms are stringent. "Ensuring that the site meets these norms raises the bar on conservation of the site," he says.

Hampi provides a great example of this. In the late 1900s, when local authorities began building a bridge across the Tungabhadra, UNESCO reacted by placing Hampi on the list of WHS in danger. The bridge, they averred, would ruin the ambience of the site, dominate the vista, and take away from the natural grandeur of the boulders and ruins. UNESCO recommended shifting the bridge elsewhere. Construction halted and eventually, in 2009, the bridge collapsed on its own. But meanwhile, the incident spurred the setting up of a Hampi World Heritage Area Management Authority which now guides, advises and oversees development in the site and its surroundings. Later, a similar management body was set up in the WHS of Champaner in Gujarat. These management bodies involve all the stakeholders, and so lead to a better management of the site.

Basket of hopefuls
It's no wonder then that everyone wants to get onto the WHS bandwagon. Currently, we have 44 sites that are on the Tentative List. These are a basket of hopefuls that the country presents to UNESCO, with the intention of nominating them sometime to be inscribed on the WHS List. In other words, they are thought to have Outstanding Universal Value, besides meeting at least one of the 10 qualifying criteria for being declared a WHS. There is no bypassing some time on the Tentative List since only a site that is already on the Tentative List can be nominated for the WHS List.

Even a cursory glance at India's WHSes-in-waiting brings out the incredible diversity, multiculturalism and depth in our history and heritage. These sites span a time period from 3000 BC to the mid-1900s. Though they all have outstanding value, in the absence of the coveted WHS tag, many of them are still a little off the tourist track, which makes them must-see places.

The Harappan site of Dholavira in Gujarat is decidedly remote and not on most tourists' to-do lists. Getting to Dholavira means traversing mile after mile of vast brown lands, relieved only occasionally by the sight of women in typically colourful Gujarati attire. After hours of emptiness, you reach the bewitching, glistening, salt-encrusted Rann of Kutch which again stretches as far as the eye can see. And finally, there on an island in the middle of this gleaming white, long-dried sea lies Dholavira, a fortified city dating from at least 3000 BC. It is an amazing example of how sagacity, foresight and planning can help you thrive even in the most inhospitable climates. Check dams across two seasonal rivers nearby channelled water into a series of inter-connected reservoirs which girdled the city. Within the citadel, even the water that fell on the fort walls was collected and channelled to be stored in another set of interconnected reservoirs. One of the must-dos in Dholavira is to enter the underground stormwater drain, easily six feet high and comfortable enough to walk through. And of course, you can see examples of the well-planned sewage system of the Harappans that we have all heard of. This evidence of elaborate and meticulously-thought-out water management by the Harappans is one of Dholavira's Outstanding Universal Values, the other being its town planning.
Archaeologists believe the raison d'etre of Lothal, near Baroda, was its dockyard. During the excavations at the site in the 1950s, archaeologist S R Rao, the lead excavator, found a large tank, measuring 217m x 26m, on the northern end of the town. Following the discovery of inlets and outlets in two of the walls, he postulated that the structure was a dockyard: boats would have entered here from channels that connected it to the rivers nearby.This makes Lothal the only Harappan-period port town known so far, which is why it was added to the Tentative List in 2014.

Besides these ancient Harappan cities, the Tentative List also has the three living cities of Ahmedabad, Delhi and Jaipur. In 2011, the Historic City of Ahmedabad was added to the Tentative List primarily on the strength of its pols, its communities, and its traditional wooden architecture. A year later, the many-layered city of Delhi found a place on the Tentative List for its unique cultural landscape, a product of the amalgamation of several cultures. Jaipur was added in 2015 for being an example of 18th century town planning. There's more to Lothal than the tank, of course. You can wander around the 3,000-year-old settlement, potter about the remains of ancient houses and workshops, or imagine yourself a trader in one of Lothal's once-bustling old warehouses.

An eye for detail
A settlement of a very different sort is the cluster of villages in Chettinad which was included in the Tentative List in 2014. These villages showcase the urban design and architecture typical of the Natukottai Chettiars. These Chettiars were Tamil merchants who, in the mid-1800s, ran thriving businesses in Singapore, Malaysia and elsewhere in the Far East. With their fortunes, they built flamboyant houses in their hometowns in Chettinad. These opulent mansions are characterised by a unique combination of European designs and Tamil vernacular sensibilities. Though several have been lost in the recent past, enough jaw-dropping examples of the distinctive Chettinad mansions still survive to make a trip there well worth your while.

Far further south of Chettinad and at the far end of the spectrum from it in terms of style and colour is the palace in the tiny town of Padmanabhapuram. Padmanabhapuram was once the capital of the old Travancore State and its palace is one of India's oldest and best surviving examples of traditional wooden architecture. Though it is now in Tamil Nadu, the palace is maintained and managed by the Kerala Department of Archaeology. The beginnings of the palace date to the 1590s. The last additions were made in 1800s. Understated and elegant, every feature in the palace — from the glossy black floors to the wooden slatted corridors, from the medicinal wooden bed to the polished metal mirrors — can draw a sigh of admiration (or envy!) from the visitor. This palace was added to the Tentative List in 2014.

The temples of Bishnupur have been on the Tentative List since 1998. Built in the 1600s with brick, laterite and terracotta, most of the temples are in a style specific to the region. A few, like the Rasmanch Temple, are in a style all of their own. Built on a square, laterite plinth, the temple has a colonnade of arches topped with a series of jharokha-like roofs out of which arises a pyramidal superstructure that at first seems straight out of Teotihuacan — quirky, unusual, and certainly of universal value. The temples that were built here a few years after the Rasmancha took on a wholly different avatar: they came alive with terracotta panels on their outer walls depicting hunting scenes, dancing, and of course, scenes from the puranas, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Make a beeline to Bishnupur, for you will not see such terracotta creations anywhere else in the country.
While every site on the Tentative List is unique, none is perhaps quite as unique as the island of Majuli in Assam. This, the world's largest river island and India's only island district, lies in the middle of the mighty Brahmaputra. The ever-shifting river has created a network of smaller islands that encircle Majuli, like stationary satellites. Majuli itself is a mosaic of green rice fields interlaced with water channels, all incredibly scenic. But being in the middle of the restless river means parts of the island are washed away every monsoon. Apart from its geography, Majuli is also unique for its villages and settlement patterns, such as its stilt-supported houses for example — clear responses of people to the dynamic and unpredictable environment they live in. Majuli was added to the Tentative List in 2004. Some scholars believe it will disappear in a few decades, having already been whittled down by the river from 1,200 sq km in the 1800s to about 800 sq km today.

In this, our 70th year of independence, perhaps you could visit some of the sites connected with our freedom struggle. In 2014, a plethora of sites from all over the country, all connected with the freedom movement, were added to the Tentative List. They include ashrams associated with Mahatma Gandhi; routes along the Dandi March; places where the flag Satyagraha took place, including Shivapura near Maddur; and places associated with the Quit India Movement, among others. In a world that was and is rife with wars and violence, we fail to realise just how rare a mass movement the freedom struggle was. One of the most poignant places where you can get a peek at the non-violent yet steely character of the struggle is Sabarmati Ashram in Ahmedabad, where Gandhiji stayed from 1917 to 1930. This was the crucible for many of his ideas including on ahimsa, physical labour and education. The 36-acre ashram preserves the house where Gandhiji and Ba lived, the little hut where Vinoba Bhave lived, and the guest house where visitors stayed. It is quite a moving experience to imagine Gandhiji meeting other leaders of the freedom movement in the small front room of his house, discussing and charting the course of the struggle even as he continued spinning on his charkha.

So, what next for these 44 sites on the Tentative List? The Archaeological Survey of India, the designated nodal agency that liaises with UNESCO, believes all these sites are worthy of being declared WHS. But the recent UNESCO guidelines mandate that only two sites can be sent up for nomination by any country each year, and further, that at least one of these must be a natural or cultural site. This means that some of these sites might have to wait a long time before they acquire that coveted status of being a World Heritage Site.

Portrait of an artist

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Often referred to as the 'Father of Indian Modern Art', Raja Ravi Varma (April 29, 1848 — October 2, 1906) was immensely popular in his lifetime. Such was the sway of the largely self-taught painter from Kerala that in 1894, when a set of his works travelled from Baroda to Bombay, lines upon lines of people reportedly filed through the exhibition halls.

In a career spanning three-and-a-half decades, Ravi Varma supposedly created close to 2,000 paintings. He also produced countless editions of oleographs, which adorn millions of Indian homes to this day — either in original form or reworked/fake versions.

Ravi Varma's reputation was principally built on a series of delicately detailed portraits of the rich and the regal; and his new brand of mythological paintings which were later repeated in his iconic oleographs. He enjoyed royal patronage; and was courted, among others, by the Maharajas of Travancore and Mysore, Baroda and Udaipur. The famous 'Ravi Varma style' became a source of inspiration for many artists during and after his time.

While his paintings were principally made for the rich elite, his inexpensive oleographs of Hindu legends reached even the commonest of common people of the country. Rabindranath Tagore was among those who witnessed and recorded this phenomenon: "During my childhood when Ravi Varma's age arrived in Bengal, reproductions of the European paintings on the walls were promptly replaced with the oleographs of his work".

Historians have recognised that Ravi Varma's most interesting innovation lay in the choice of themes; giving gods and goddesses a human face; and physically freezing mythological scenes. "He was adding a new dimension of portrayals of traditional narrative," observes artist and art critic Ghulam Mohammed Sheikh. "These were 'flesh and blood' divinities... The new realistic avatars of the goddesses met with such an overwhelming response that their earlier forms disappeared from public memory."

Over time, Ravi Varma's work was also being linked to the notion of nationalism. Sister Nivedita, a disciple of Swami Vivekananda, praised him for "the urge to feel and act patriotically and bring painting to the service of Swadeshi and Nationalism." In 1907, a year after his death, the monthly magazine Modern Review hailed him as "the greatest artist of modern India, a nation builder who showed the moral courage of a gifted 'high-born' in taking up the 'degrading profession of painting'."

An eventful life


Ravi Varma has been subject to several biographies by noted authors and historians. That he was born into an aristocratic family in the erstwhile Travancore state; showed an early interest in drawing by scribbling on palace walls; and drew the attention of his uncle who recognised his talent, are all part of an oft-repeated narrative.

As interesting was the exceptional bondage and lifelong partnership between Ravi Varma and his youngest brother, C Raja Varma, which was broken only by the latter's death. Ravi Varma's marriage to the sister of the Maharani of Travancore in 1866 lasted all of 25 years, but was frequently interrupted by his long absences when the brothers set out on their nationwide trips.

A major turning point came when Ravi Varma was invited to Baroda in 1881 as a State guest by Maharaja Sayajirao Gaekwad and painted many portraits of the Maharaja and his family. Seven years later, the Varma brothers returned to Baroda to paint 14 Puranic works for the royal family. In the meantime, Ravi Varma's reputation had soared: as colonial India's finest Indian artist; as a pioneer in employing human models to illustrate Hindu gods and goddesses; and as a skilful trendsetter who fused European academic techniques with Indian sensibilities.

Historians have vividly described how the artist's growing interest in painting subjects from Indian mythology resulted in his setting up the Ravi Varma Lithographic Press in Bombay with imported German machinery and German technicians. It is this press (later moved to Lonavla) which produced a wide array of copies of his paintings, primarily of Hindu gods and goddesses, and reached the homes of tens of thousands of Indian homes. In due course, however, its operations became financially unwieldy, forcing Ravi Varma to sell the press to his trusted German technician Fritz Schleicher. (The press continued successfully until a devastating fire destroyed the whole factory in 1972).

Ravi Varma continued to receive royal patronage and travelled widely, but suffered a great personal tragedy when his brother, confidante and fellow traveller died in 1904. It was, according to many, a blow from which the famed artist never really recovered. One version says that Ravi Varma had planned to accept sanyasa when he turned 60 in 1908. But he did not survive to see that happen. A worsening diabetes took its toll and the painter of many gods and goddesses succumbed on October 2, 1906, aged 58 years, drawing curtains to an eventful life.

A cultural icon

It is interesting to see how more than 110 years after his death, Ravi Varma's name remains active in public memory or discourse. For millions of his present-day admirers, Raja Ravi Varma is, and will always be, an undisputed cultural icon. "His work has this special quality of timelessness," says Bharani Thirumal Rukmini Bayi Varma, his great-great-granddaughter, and the driving force behind the Raja Ravi Varma Heritage Foundation.

Ravi Varma's works feature in important events and exhibits even today. Books and novels on his life and art are routinely dished out by publishers. An occasional film too comes by. Fakes of his work appear; and disputes on authenticity of his paintings reach the courts for settlement.

Chroniclers have recorded that Ravi Varma's popularity did dip following his death. The works of the erstwhile 'Painter Prince' had already begun gathering not-so-respectful titles like 'bazaar art' and 'Indian kitsch'. In the 1950s, growing interest in modern art affected his reputation further. But Ravi Varma bounced back into public domain, especially after a major exhibition of his works was curated by painter A Ramachandran and art conservator Rupika Chawla at the National Museum, New Delhi in 1993.

Last year, an exhibition titled 'Raja Ravi Varma: Royal Lithography and Legacy' was organised by the Raja Ravi Varma Heritage Foundation at the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA), Bengaluru. The show, which ran for six weeks, attracted unprecedented viewership. "Forget the opening night when it was a virtual chock-a-block of cheering fans of Ravi Varma; even on other days, hundreds of visitors thronged the galleries of NGMA," recalls Ganesh Shivaswamy, a trustee of the Foundation and curator of the show.

In the art market, Ravi Varma is an undisputed star. For the discerning collector, it is often said, there is no greater thrill than a chance to own a canvas by Ravi Varma. "In 1979, the Indian government declared Ravi Varma to be a National Art Treasure and prevented the export of his paintings from India," observes international auction house, Sotheby's. "So it is incredibly rare for his works to ever come up at auction internationally."

Last month, the highlight of Sotheby's New York auction (March 16, 2017) was his Untitled (Damayanti). The 28¾ x 20¾ inch oil on canvas showed the protagonist princess in a glimmering sari, pining in the moonlight for her lover. Ravi Varma, who was known to combine the classic Indian mythology with European realism, supposedly used a photograph of a European performance of The Feast of Roses, L'inamorata (1900) to re-imagine a scene from the Sanskrit play. The painting came with an estimate of 500,000 — 700,000 USD, but went under the hammer for a staggering USD 1,692,500, or Rs 11.9 crore.

Exactly a year ago, another oil painting by Ravi Varma, Untitled (Portrait of a Young Woman in Russet and Crimson Sari) had sold for $586,000 in Sotheby's auction (New York / March 15, 2016), almost doubling its high estimate. In November 2016, at Pundole's art auction in Mumbai, Ravi Varma's 'Radha in the Moonlight' (1890 / 57 ½ x 41 ½ inch) sold for no less than Rs 20 crore!

Share of criticism


While there has never been a dearth of die-hard admirers, Ravi Varma's art has also had its share of criticism and controversy during his lifetime and thereafter. He was even taken to Bombay court and tried on charges of obscenity, for offending public morality and hurting the religious and cultural sentiments of people by painting Indian mythological characters in allegedly indecent ways. The artist fought the case successfully and was eventually absolved of the charges. (Ketan Mehta's feature film, Rang Rasiya (2014), re-enacts the court case).

Beyond the courts, Ravi Varma faced derisive critics on the question of aesthetics. Historian and philosopher Ananda Coomaraswamy reportedly accused that his work was nothing more than a "superficial study of Indian life... too mannered, too Hindu, too literal, too melodramatic." For artist M F Husain, Ravi Varma's prints were "the worst kind of calendar art", and the goddesses, "Italian women in saris".

Several historians feel that printing of oleographs was Ravi Varma's real undoing. They say that it ensured his quick slide from neoclassical to kitsch; and eventually led to his downfall, both financially and creatively. "In many ways, this one move towards mass production both made and unmade 'the modern' artist," observes academic Tapti Guha-Thakurta.

"While it turned his model of Indian art into a mass phenomenon (the staple of a new popular picture trade), it also signalled Ravi Varma's fall from grace — his banishment from the canons of 'high art' and 'modernity' in Indian art history. The first of our new creed of modern Indian artists was lost to the mass market, largely a victim of his own success..."

Master painter's influence...

Ravi Varma remains one of Indian art's most intriguing figures to inspire contemporary artists, photographers and filmmakers. "The impact of Ravi Varma upon what is contemporary Indian art is immense," says Deepanjana Pal, author of 'The Painter: A Life Of Ravi Varma'. "His influence on the kitsch style is obvious, and artists like Pushpamala N have referenced him directly in a lot of their work."

Bengaluru-based Pushpamala, whose works have been described as 'performance photography' has, among others, reworked three Ravi Varma popular paintings (Lady In The Moonlight, Lakshmi and Returning From The Tank), posing herself as the main protagonist. In one of his works, American artist and photographer Waswo X Waswo too has replaced a Ravi Varma's Lakshmi with his own suit-clad self.

His Karnataka connection


Ravi Varma's connection with the Mysore State (now Karnataka) had started way back in 1870. As a young man of 22, he is said to have undertaken a pilgrimage to Kollur Mookambika Temple to perform a long 41-day propitiation and seek the blessings of the goddess for his artistic journey.

Later on, Ravi Varma's connection with Mysore State was strengthened when his art was highly appreciated by the Mysore Maharaja and other royals. In 1885, he was invited by Maharaja Chamarajendra Wodeyar to produce portraits of the royal family. He was treated with exceptional kindness and respect by the Maharaja and his staff. Almost two decades later, he was commissioned to paint nine mythological paintings for the Jaganmohan Palace, Mysore.

Just a year before his death, Ravi Varma had accompanied the Maharaja of Mysore and the Prince of Wales to witness the famous Khedda in the forests. Among his very last paintings were those made on Khedda operations; one of the paintings shows huge tents of the royal entourage with a motor car in the foreground.

Back to the present

On a bright and sunny afternoon last month, this writer visited Thiruvananthapuram's Sree Chitra Gallery which houses, among others, a collection of more than 40 original paintings of Raja Ravi Varma. Set amidst swaying trees and green lawns, the gallery is quite welcoming, but has few visitors. The general condition of the paintings is quite okay, but the congested and rather insipid display definitely begs overhauling. There are no information boards; even basic facts such as the medium, size and dates of paintings are absent.

In 2005, a team of specialists supposedly came from the National Museum, New Delhi and undertook the restoration of 43 Raja Ravi Varma's paintings. The restoration team's suggestion to maintain better micro-climatic conditions in the gallery has apparently not been acted upon. The superintendent of the gallery is friendly, but confesses to space and other constraints. Non-Malayalis are likely to face problems conversing with the gallery staff. But it is here that one gets to see a range of Ravi Varma's brightly coloured paintings with a low-priced entry ticket.

Later, sipping tea in the adjoining canteen, Nemom Pushparaj, vice-chairman of Kerala Lalithakala Academy, has his take on the artist. "It is easy to criticise Ravi Varma's art, but one must understand that he lived in a totally different era," says Pushparaj, who has authored a biography on Ravi Varma in Malayalam. "Instead of enjoying their riches and whiling away their time, Ravi Varma and his brother Raja Varma chose to dedicate their lives to art... Looking at the vast array of works and conditions in which they were produced and disseminated, I feel that their contribution to Indian art is immense. Ravi Varma suffered personal tragedies, humiliation and financial trauma, yet his commitment to art never diminished. He needs to be seen and appreciated for his energy, artistic vision and insight, by us, as well as future generations."

Open to interpretations


Ravi Varma is, however, not an undisputed hero in Thiruvananthapuram today. "Artworks must be open to multiple interpretations," says noted contemporary artist N N Rimzon. "They must provoke an intellectual thought or trigger a spiritual experience in the viewer and not be static objects. Ravi Varma's works do not do that. They are all too obvious, too simplistic, and even boring. He was a good portrait artist, but when one looks at the complete body of work, you do not get the feeling that he evolved like, for instance, a miniature artist did, by using traditional motifs and ideas, but presenting them in a wonderfully evolved aesthetic."

Artist A S Sajith, currently the principal of the College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram, seems to agree. "There are two sides to Ravi Varma," observes Sajith. "One has to respect how liberated he was for his times, and also for his entrepreneurial spirit. The fact that he persisted with his art and was a pioneer in some ways has to be acknowledged and admired. But when it comes to his paintings, one cannot be as generous. When we apply clinical standards and objectively evaluate his work (as we would do for any other artist), Ravi Varma falls short in many ways. He did not fully explore the immense possibilities that were available to him, but stuck to a kind of formulaic and mechanical way of making art. That is why one clearly feels a lack of depth and understanding in his work.

After seeing a few works, one can become disinterested, rather than feeling thrilled." So, what would Sajith tell his students about Ravi Varma? "I would like my students to study and understand Ravi Varma honestly, without any preconceptions; and form their own ideas and impressions without getting swayed by popular sentiments." And what about conserving Ravi Varma's works? "I am all for preserving his works for posterity," says Sajith emphatically. "Irrespective of one's opinion on his aesthetics and creativeness, it is vital that all his existing works must be well-maintained and made available to students as well as researchers and academics. There are still many aspects of his work which are to be studied and researched."

Tracing the roots


Kilimanoor is a small and quiet village about 45 km from Thiruvananthapuram; and the birthplace of Ravi Varma. Biju Rama Varma, a descendant of Raja Ravi Varma's family and secretary of the Kilimanoor Palace Trust, looks after the palace which includes a spacious hall which was once Ravi Varma's studio. "This place is very sacred for us," he says reverentially. "In this very hall over 100 images were painted by the master. His spirit still lingers here." Strange as it may seem, there is not a single original painting of Ravi Varma in sight. "All his original works from the palace were donated to Sree Chitra Gallery."

An accomplished classical musician, 48-year-old Biju is a long-term resident of the Kilimanoor palace. "I have had extraordinary experiences watching visitors who come from all parts of the country, particularly Maharashtra and Gujarat. Many of them stand in silence with closed eyes and folded hands, as if they've entered a temple. I have seen Maharashtrian families collecting small portions of soil and even fallen leaves here. They tell me that those collections would be placed in their puja rooms along with other idols for worship. Such is their devotion!"

Biju is happy that Ravi Varma's paintings have been declared as national treasures, but feels that more could be done. "Even the British took notice and awarded Kaisar-i-Hind Gold Medal way back in 1904. We, the Ravi Varma family, plan to petition the central government to recognise his extraordinary contribution to Indian art and bestow the prestigious Bharat Ratna on him."

Before bidding goodbye, Biju takes this writer on a mini tour of the palace and its surrounding areas explaining the historical significance. The last stop is the modest memorial of Raja Ravi Varma, set up not long ago in the very place where the painter was cremated in 1906. Tucked away in a corner, and away from the main building, the granite cenotaph is speckled with fallen leaves. Standing before it, I wonder how the legacy of Ravi Varma would pan out in the coming years — particularly when a recharged 'religious' and 'nationalistic' fervour seems slowly but surely taking centre stage in public discourse these days.

Ravi Varma in today's times

There are several organisations and institutions working to promote Raja Ravi Varma's work. Among them is one set up by Kilimanoor's Biju Rama Varma and his family members. "The Raja Ravi Varma International Foundation for Art and Culture (RIFAC) wants to be the umbrella organisation to promote Ravi Varma and his art. In the long term, we feel that this palace should house a permanent art gallery, which was one of his unfulfilled dreams. Also, we have a vision that this palace and surroundings should create a Santiniketan kind of artists' village and atmosphere where not only painters and artists, but also scholars, researchers, musicians and performers should come and let out their creative juices."

In Bengaluru, the Raja Ravi Varma Heritage Foundation was established in 2015 by Bharani Thirunal Rukmini Bayi Varma, the great-great-grand daughter of Raja Ravi Varma, along with gallerist Gitanjali Maini, lawyer Ganesh Shivaswamy, and visual artist Jay Varma. The motto of the foundation is Knowledge, Appreciation and Preservation. It has plans to enter diversified areas such as promotion research; art authentication; and international cooperation.

We are like this only!

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There was a Trivandrum college principal who looked longingly at the portraits of his illustrious predecessors and declared, "One day, I too will hang like this!" Another schoolmaster from that same city was probably the pioneer behind the perennial joke: "Those of you outstanding, immediately get into your-your classes!" Joining their ilk was the professor who told a visitor, "That is C block, and that is the block head."

When someone asks, "What is your good name?" we don't bow gracefully and say 'Thanks!' before providing an answer; we merely grin at the question's quaintness. We're comfortable with 'preponing' meetings; seeing a film once, twice and 'thrice'; 'passing out' of college in perfectly good health, and if we aren't convinced about something, we say, 'I have a doubt', which isn't as propah as saying 'I have a question'.

I grew up laughing and wondering at the philosophical what-what will happen will happeney-happen, and that much only, and simply-at-all.

My father narrated an incident that happened a few years before his marriage. A group of cousins had gone on a picnic to Kovalam. One of them, a placid gentleman of no particular literary talent, casually broke into the conversation with this conundrum in English: "That with which we live is the food with which we eat."

English was, at the easiest of times, an alien language, a dragon to subdue. At first, they laughed, brushing it off as an irrelevant interruption. But the rest of the picnic was spoilt! They could think of nothing else. The eerie line invaded their post-prandial stupor. "That with which we----?" "Food with which we---?" The most vexed member of their party was an English teacher who later went on to become a headmaster. Days after the picnic, he'd look up dazed and wonder, "'With which we' ...how's that possible, what does he mean?"

Made for morphing

It took many years to realise that I was walking into the dawn of a new spoken language. Even as strict, academic users frowned at the carelessness, audacity or ignorance of these merry messers-up of their pristine English language, I was on the side of the adventurers, the experimenters, and those who decided to push the language to its limits, and then beyond. Even the needle of a compass swings wildly before it settles to a point of understanding.

When I was in college, aggressive speakers of the local language would come up and say, "Speaking Englibis and all, eh? You're from abroad or what?" I soon discovered that some of these conscientious, derisive agitators couldn't read the script of their own language, while I, the guy from "abroad", could. I picked up Tamil from posters, films, listening to patti mandrams on TV, and by speaking the language. I entered the portals of its culture, and I could sense and discuss depths and nuances. However, I remained labelled as an English-user.

The derogatory nickname targets the snobbishness of those who abandon their own language and embrace this import. It is directed at ivory towers where a rarefied English, with depth and history, with linkages to world situations, is spoken. Ivory towers that rise condescendingly above the local situation. But the more I reflected, the more I figured that Englibis is not the same as English. If we, the native speakers, have adopted this white child, we have made him our own. We've fattened him up, darkened him and made him sensitive to the nuances of our cultures, we have worked hard to make him comfortable in every corner of our country, across its length and breadth.

But Englibis is more than its connotation suggests. It's not an import, it's what we've made of the import. If English is Man, Englibis is Superman! It's the sum of the infinite possibilities of language that we've raked up through continued usage, and stuffed the import with. If English is bread, Englibis is the sandwich. It's our language now, greater than what we received.

India is a fertile playing field. The number, richness and variety of our local languages married to the licentious receptivity of English results in bloated offspring that revel in the best of both worlds. Listen to speakers of Bengali, Telugu, Malayalam and Hindi, for example, speaking English. The old language swells with new accents and linkages, hybrid words and home-bred usages. It's a rolling stone that gathers all the moss.

In his The Mother Tongue: English and How It Got That Way, Bill Bryson shows how speakers of one language consider those that speak another. The Japanese word for foreigner means 'stinking of foreign hair'. A Hungarian is a 'pimple' to the Czechs. Germans call cockroaches Frenchmen, and Frenchmen call lice Spaniards. So, isn't it wonderful that we Indians have not only adopted the English language, but also married it to our own languages? Logically, we should have Hinglish, Manglish, Tanglish and Banglish, but we have, with dignity, chosen to call it English, and speak it with different accents and addendums.

When I taught creative English to Maths students, many of them were new users of the language. I began my class with a speaking module. Their speeches were graded by their peers. The understanding was that if they were kind to their friends, they would be doing them an injustice. If they pointed out flaws as well as highlights, they'd help them to improve.

Many of them were nervous. I called them aside and said, never mind grammar and correctness, express yourself as well as you can. Their assignments, too, were judged on the same basis. I would, however, point out extreme departures from "correct" English. The happy outcome of this was the progress I found in their subsequent assignments. I found amazing creativity when they handled English like their own language. Once they felt comfortable handling it, I could point out the differences.

My advice was simple: begin with courage, listen to spoken English, read a lot, and then use the language, your courage undimmed. You need to own the language. For that, you need to know the language. Not its rock-hard principles alone, but its fluidity and contradictions.

Language is always a journey, never a destination. Or it wouldn't grow. The language, resting in the pages of grammar books and dictionaries, and in the torture rooms of grammarians, should be dusted out and related to the everyday language we use. 'Ayyo' is a recent example.

So I allowed my students their personal idiosyncrasies. And when their mother tongue flirted outrageously with their English, I let it be. Rather than striving for a sanitised, standardised English, I was aiming for an organic hybrid, unique to the speaker, and refreshing for his audience. Which is why I'm worried when I hear of dedicated trainers sculpting and pruning the language of students who plan to go abroad to study. If they don't qualify, they can't go. In keeping with the general trend to standardise, to make efficient robots of us all, the individuality of each speaker is sacrificed.

Mention Nabokov, and the common response is: Lolita?

Not because of its exquisite language, but because the middle-aged protagonist has it off with his 12-year-old step-daughter, and because the book was banned and unbanned with such fanfare. But ardent fans (like me) still swoon at every opportunity to revel in his words. Nabokov fled his native Russia in his 41st year. Had he been coached and tested in English, and declared fit to flee, we would be reading a horribly sanitised Lolita, which probably deserved to remain in judicial custody.

What's a language, anyway?

We learn the rules of a language only to know the ways in which we can creatively subvert them without awkwardness; to see how we can own it, and use it without being misunderstood. Like entering a dark room with a torch, exploring it, and later being able to manage even without a light. And for that we need courage. If we keep looking over our shoulders, fearful of the cruel custodians of its original purity, we run the risk of never being comfortable or creative enough to ply what is, after all, a tool of communication. We must make our language bigger than its legacy. That's how language grows.

Think of the conquerors and adventurers who explored alien worlds, ill-equipped to relate to the mysteries in their way. And yet they persevered. Language is an exciting country we must explore and make our own. We do need a map, but there comes a moment when we can throw it away.

We need to make that journey from despotic canon to the infinitely possible, from English to Englibis.

Broken, but our very own

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If the murder of a language attracted capital punishment, most of us Indians would be hanged to death for butchering Queen's English day in and day out. What to do, we are like that only.

After 200 years of rule, the British left us so poor and hungry that we started eating articles, words, apostrophes, tenses, and even heads. "Do not eat my head. I cannot meet you tomorrow. I am suppose(d) to visit my brother('s) house in (the) city," is a perfectly acceptable sentence. And when it comes to eating the head, you need not be a non-vegetarian.

Preferences, please
Non-vegetarian is perhaps an Indian addition to the English dictionary. While across the world you are either a vegetarian or a meat eater, in India, one of the first questions in the process of getting acquainted could be, "Are you veg or non-veg?" The first question, of course, has to be — "What is your good name, please?" Once you have broken the ice, you move on to more personal questions like, "Do you have any habits?" which translates to — "Do you smoke, or consume alcohol?"

When we drink excessively, we are never high or drunk, nor do we pass out. Instead, we get 'tight'. If, over a drink, somebody asks you, "When did you pass out?" do not take offence. He is merely enquiring about your education. In India, we do not graduate, we 'pass out' of the university.

Even seemingly innocuous words can have a completely different meaning. For instance, in Tamil Nadu, the word 'matter' refers to an adult movie. And if you decide to say 'thank you' to your friend for treating you to drinks or a matter movie, banish the thought because he is most likely to respond, 'Mention not' or 'Do not mention'. So, why bother?

There are some precise terms when it comes to relationships too. The wives of two brothers would prefer to call each other 'co-sister', rather than sister-in-law, though they would often be pulling the household in two different directions. The plural would usually be 'sister-in-laws', not sisters-in-law. Besides, we would like to be specific with our cousins — 'cousin brother', 'cousin sister'.

If marriage is on your mind, you would most likely seal the deal with a 'ring ceremony', after which your partner becomes your 'would-be', not fiancé. Soon, you will be announcing to your friends, "I am getting married next-to-next week." Ask about the betrothal, and the response would be, "We got engaged last-to-last week."

The terms week-after-next, week-before-last, or fortnight rarely find a place in our dictionary. At the wedding, if two friends wearing similar attire bump into each other, their instant reaction would be, "Oh my god, we are wearing same-to-same dress." Barely three months after the marriage, curious friends and relatives will start popping the all-too-familiar question, "Any good news?" and the only answer they anticipate is — "I'm expecting." When a girl says 'expecting', it can mean only one thing, and it can be a bombshell or a burst of 'good news' depending on whether or not you are married.

Given our poor sense of time, our schedules often go haywire. Thus, it is common for meetings to be postponed, but we never advance our appointments, we only 'prepone' them. It is also quite possible that you are late for a meeting because your car had a 'flat' and you had to visit a 'puncher' shop. If you are having a really bad day, you might find a sign hanging on the shop's door announcing it is 'Close' instead of 'Closed'. That is when you might feel like committing 'self-suicide'.

Personal touch
Over the years, India has developed its own brand of 'Inglish' by adapting itself to local needs. It has also enriched the English language by adding several words to the dictionary. Some of them being karma, avatar, guru, curry, ginger, bungalow and jungle.

Though Indians speak much better English than most people in other parts of the world, we humour ourselves with sentences like, "I talk, he talk, why you middle-middle talk?", or "Open the doors of the window, let the atmosphere come in." A little bit of fun can do us no harm. After all, whose father's what goes?

Earth, in an embrace

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India has enthusiastically started shopping for factory-produced goods. Till not very long ago, India had largely purchased forest-produced products. Almost every item of necessity was shaped out of nature.

Consider the charpoy or cot, for instance. It was made with bamboo/wood and natural-fibre ropes like coconut or jute. Garden chairs and stools were created with sarkanda/moonj grass. Footmats were made with coir, while sisal grass was turned into rugs and table mats.

The madur kathi reed from Bengal was woven into exquisite feather-light chattai (mat), as was korai grass in Tamil Nadu. The broom came from the flower of the amilso, or Thysanolaena maxima, growing on the hills of Meghalaya. And if you wanted flowers and pictures for decoration or wedding requisites (as the topor or headgear used in Bengal and Orissa), the sholapith reed was at hand to craft it.

The most essential of all belongings, cloth, came from nature too, be it from the cotton shrub or the silkworm. Examples are many, and these reflect sustainable living, wherein renewable natural resources were used to fashion items of daily use without harming the environment.

As a society, we proudly claim to have inched towards the path of industrial development, but along the way, we seem to have forgotten that progress needs to be gentle yet progressive. We have become a society where the market dictates terms to us. Where success is measured by flaunting more, and where big gets bigger.

This is the typical outcome of a consumerist economy. It creates an ecosystem where we begin consuming more than required. Social media, television and advertising blitzkrieg subtly impress upon brand consciousness and give birth to the desire to possess. Facilities like personal loans and EMIs let us make purchases beyond what the wallet allows.

High disposable incomes play their part too. Peer pressure adds itself to the list and we begin living up to a certain image we have formed about ourselves for the eyes of the society. We get sucked into the culture of overconsumption and find it difficult to wriggle out of it. What gets affected by this is the environment around us, but we remain oblivious to that fact.

Realisation on this score has begun creeping in and the discerning citizen is making a conscious effort to change gears. Organic living is the buzzword these days. It's all about slowing down, pondering over your actions and the effect they will have on the environment. In a way, it's about going back to how it all began.

Its focus is on undoing the harms and channelising energies to create better surroundings. The thought has caught on and slow living is being appreciated. It's an urban concept, yes, but it's begun bringing about a change in the mindset of the rush-hour crowd.

Under the weather

What do you think is affecting Planet Earth the most? The warning signals are all around us. The answer is climate change. Global temperature has sharply risen in the past 25 years. If the current trend continues, the earth could be sizzling soon. Natural calamities will be the backlash by a planet under dire stress. The effect of ecological imbalance is visible all around us.

Bengaluru, for instance, is an indicator of the times to come. An army officer hailing from Delhi, who was posted to the city in the mid-70s, never fails in recalling an episode where he needed to buy a fan for an outstation project. He could not get one in Bengaluru as the city had never felt the need for it. He mentions the city being a prize posting in those days on account of its salubrious weather and genteel living. He got a shocker when he visited it after decades, last year. "I had to use an air conditioner the whole day. That's when the truth about global warming hit me hard," he says.

There is a social-media message doing the rounds these days, which is meant in jest, but ably captures what changes we should be bringing about in daily living. It says: Dear Sun. It's 42C outside. Please go to settings>display>brightness and lower your brightness. Please, it's too hot to handle!

The Sun replies: I have not changed any settings. Please go to your settings and 1) Increase the number of trees, 2) Reduce carbon emissions levels, 3) Reduce concrete jungles, 4) Increase the number of lakes. Basically, switch to human mode.

Pause, play, stop

Slow living is a lifestyle shift of thinking globally but acting locally. It's about doing what you can at an individual level and influencing the society around you with your actions.

The changes can begin from your home. In case you want to invest in a house, choose a residential project that has an eco-friendly concept and ensures that you can check the boxes for attributes like: harnessing of solar energy, harvesting of rainwater, optimum use of locally available building material, a design that allows natural light into the house and minimises the use of electric heating or cooling.

Your present home may not have the above-mentioned features, but you can still adopt a green way of living. Begin by taking small steps in conserving natural resources like water. At a friend's house in Kerala, the kitchen drain water is directed towards the garden.

A colleague who lives in a flat doesn't discard the water used to clean the floor mops, instead uses it to water her potted plants. Indeed, every aspect at home can be rethought with a view to minimise carbon footprints. In interior decor, for instance, natural fibres like cotton, tassar and jute as well as handloom and natural vegetable-dyed textiles can be employed for upholstery and linen.

In the kitchen, don't get rid of the plastic vegetable basket, but buy a bamboo one the next time the need arises. By opting for local weaves, fabric and handicraft in your daily life, you will also be assisting in the promotion and sustenance of traditional skills.

The four R's

Should you want to view a remarkable natural lifestyle of a couple in today's times, tune into At Home with Venetia in Kyoto on NHK World TV. One of the most popular telly shows in Japan, a country very conscious about organic living, it takes you inside the home of Venetia Stanley-Smith, a British lady who has been in Japan for over 40 years. Married to a local, they set up home in the Ohara district of Kyoto a decade-plus back, with the thought of living among nature.

They invest in a century-old house, which is renovated and brought to life in keeping with the true character of eco-friendly construction in the area. Every element in that house and garden blends in with nature. For daily chores, Venetia goes to the extent of making her own chemical-free detergents and using traditional pots & pans and old-fashioned cane baskets. She prefers walking for her purchases rather than taking an automobile. She grows herbs and uses them in her cooking and to make medicines. Influenced by her, many Japanese families have shifted around Ohara to live a more handcrafted life.

Venetia follows the organic living mantra of four R's: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, Replenish. It sounds straightforward, and is actually quite easy to follow. Incidentally, it is a thought not alien to Indians. We have always reused and recycled. So how does one get back to doing this? All you need to do is recall what your mothers and grandmothers did. Simple measures like using a cotton shopping bag for supplies, saying no to plastic packing as far as possible, reusing glass bottles, grinding spices at home, opting for newspaper bags for your provisions, offering surplus carrybags to vegetable vendors, hailing the kabadiwala for disposing of unusable items... can all make a difference.

Consumerism cajoles us into throwing a working product and replacing it with an upgraded version of the same. Next time you're tempted to do that, ask yourself whether you truly need a replacement. If it has a minor defect, can it be repaired? Even in the developed West, where once items went into the bin in the blink of an eye, people are beginning to realise that continuing with the same is not such a bad idea. Repair Cafe was a concept developed in 2009 in Amsterdam.

It was meant for people to come together and fix mechanical, electronic and other items instead of discarding them. It was felt MNCs were deliberately designing products with a short life span, forcing a consumer to buy new more often. Today, there are over a thousand Repair Cafes the world over as it's always satisfying to do something yourself. Online videos are a useful resource in this effort.

Managing waste

By opting for such measures, you also make a small contribution towards garbage management, which is an enormous challenge at the national level. Have you heard about the zero-waste woman? She is New York-based Lauren Singer who could put four years of garbage into a small jar. How did she do it? By simply saying no to plastic packaging, changing her eating habits, and going the extra mile to pick and choose products and services that were eco-friendly. By changing her lifestyle, she had "prevented thousands of pounds of trash going to landfill". She believed "one person can make a difference, it's just having a desire to do so".

Urban waste piles raising stink outside our township limits is not an uncommon sight. In order to reduce methane and carbon dioxide emissions generated through the usual waste disposal systems, recycling is what's required. Compost plants for biodegradable waste have been set up in many cities, but every citizen can help by consciously producing less garbage, just as Singer did.

You can make a small start today itself by beginning with your kitchen waste, which can go into a pit in the backyard, or into a terracotta composter. Over time it will turn into bio-manure, a complete natural nourishment for the soil in your garden or for potted plants.
Sowing & eating right

Food choices are a way of caring for the environment and your health. The spotlight has rightly been turned on organic food. Organic farming emits far fewer greenhouse gases than regular cultivation, so it's a great initiative to back. However, it's not enough to merely consume organic food, which includes not just chemical-free vegetables, but also free-range poultry and meat. Attention needs to be paid on sowing it right too. Many indigenous seeds have disappeared as the tendency has shifted to disease-resistant hybrid growing. The need of the hour is to deliberate on preserving native seeds, which are more suitable to our climatic conditions.

Eating the correct way is as important as the food on your plate. The 'slow food' concept initially emerged as a reaction to fast food and the fat-carbohydrate it was pumping into our systems. The movement lays emphasis on the traditional way of eating. That effectively means consuming seasonal locally grown food, using more whole cereals and unrefined oils, less packaged foods, and most importantly, sitting down, observing, and having a meal in a relaxed manner.

Why are we being made to think of taking measures in saving environment? It was never the case a few decades back. The reason is simple: we want more but give back less. This doesn't mean we need to live a minimalist life, or go out and buy a charpoy, but as consumers we do need to curb overindulgence and encourage initiatives that stop the plundering of our green wealth.


Let's take a look at Japan's lifestyle initiative once more. It's called Shinrin-yoku or forest bathing. It means healing yourself by being washed by the atmosphere of the forest and its silence. The therapy was developed in Japan decades back and has become an important aspect of healthcare in the country. Slow living is all about this: incorporating nature into your lives. What are you waiting for? The planet needs an embrace from you.

Back from the dead

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While her fellow students at the School of Planning and Architecture in New Delhi were busy drawing up blueprints for erecting new buildings, Aishwarya Tipnis was always more interested in restoring and reusing the old ones. A Master's degree in European Urban Conservation from the University of Dundee in Scotland further strengthened her resolve to work towards the preservation and conservation of historic buildings.

After all, "Heritage is an integral part of our identity and it would be foolish to let it crumble or fade away," believes this spirited conservation architect who has pioneered several urban conservation and building restoration projects in the country. She also adds, "In today's day and age, heritage and culture in general must remain relevant to all, not just artists and experts." Sunday Herald got her talking about two of her projects, which received the UNESCO Asia-Pacific Award for Cultural Heritage Conservation last year.

One of them happens to be the 18th century Maratha citadel, the Mahidpur Fort in rural Madhya Pradesh, located on the banks of River Kshipra, about 50 km from Ujjain. While not much remains of the original construction, it is still home to a small community that lives amongst the remnants of the medieval fort. Till about a few years ago, before any conservation efforts were initiated, it stood in a dilapidated condition — vandalised and almost on the verge of collapse. The building construction activity for the largest Jain temple in the region further posed a threat to the fort, as the ruins were being dismantled for the expansion of the temple and its activities.

The fort, or Qila, as it is popularly known amongst the locals, does not fall on any popular tourist trail due to its remote location and the lack of awareness about its historical past. We, perhaps, wouldn't have heard about it if it wasn't for the initiative undertaken by the Department of State Archaeology, Government of Madhya Pradesh, and the World Monuments Fund, New York.

Unknown to many, the town of Mahidpur is one of great importance. It was once a prosperous trading town on the Dakshinapatha trade route, but more importantly, it marks the site of the decisive Third Anglo-Maratha War (1817-18), also known as the battle of Mahidpur, that was fought between the British East India Company and the Maratha Holkars. It is said that the Marathas were almost on the verge of winning, when they were betrayed by one of their own generals, which led to their defeat. And ultimately, it resulted in the fall of the Maratha Empire and the subjugation of central India by the British.

Mahidpur is also believed to have great archaeological potential as several excavations have already been undertaken by the Archaeological Survey of India, which have led to the discovery of remains dating back to the Chalcolithic period. It thus became imperative to initiate a plan to preserve the remains of the fort.

The protection and conservation efforts made by Tipnis and her team involved the structural stabilisation and restoration of the walls and the bastions. All of it, which happened in a methodical manner, spanning over a period of two-and-half years, included the documentation and mapping process, a careful assessment of the condition of the archaeological remains, and on-site supervision of the execution of the works.

However, it wasn't as easy as it sounds. Apart from the remote location the architect's team worked in, language too posed a problem. "The challenge was to distill the ideas in the simplest way and explain it to the local contractor for implementation," says Tipnis. At the same time, she adds, "Although challenging at various levels, finding accommodation in the village and working within the constraints of the site helped us in building trust with the local community. Initially they were extremely wary of what we were doing, but as time progressed, they came to help out, engaged themselves, and offered suggestions on how things could be practically done." In the process, many unemployed youth were trained in building crafts, which in turn provided them with a vocation for a sustainable future.

According to Tipnis, "A cultural heritage resource is not a liability, and if restored with care, and with a vision, it can do wonders to enhance the image of a place." Mahidpur Fort has proved to be a fine example of this belief. "The success of the project and its impact on the community can be gauged by the fact that other similar communities have now expressed interest to the local government to restore their living, unprotected monuments.

The Qila has now become a local tourist attraction and every member of the community is aware of its historical importance," reveals Tipnis. Even the Jain Temple Trust now considers the fort as an asset and not just old ruins that can be broken down for expansion. Now the locals have another reason to be proud of — Mahidpur Fort is the first recipient of the UNESCO Award of Merit, for Cultural Heritage Conservation, in Madhya Pradesh.

The other project that received a similar award is the Doon School, a premier educational institute in Dehradun, Uttarakhand, established in 1935. Tipnis and her team worked on the structural stabilisation of the main building, its facade restoration, and the introduction of a pilot for a 'smart classroom' within the historic building. What is commendable is that even though the state of Uttarakhand or the city of Dehradun does not have any statutory legislation for protecting heritage buildings and sites, the school took on the restoration project without any government funding.

To this, Tipnis says, "It is a rare example in India where a comprehensive conservation and restoration project for an unlisted historic building has been undertaken, primarily for the love of its heritage, by its own community." Summing up, she adds, "The project has gone on to demonstrate via practice that intelligent design and sensitive solutions can make a historic building relevant to contemporary times. It is a benchmark for many other unlisted historic buildings across India that demand to be conserved rather than being razed to oblivion."


St. Olav's Church

The city of Kolkata develops linearly along River Hoogly in eastern India. Heading north from Kolkata for an hour-and-a-half along River Hooghly would lead you to the pre-colonial town of Serampore on the West Bank of the river. Known as Frederichsnagore during the mid-17th to 18th century Danish colonial period in India, Serampore is now a part of the Kolkata Metropolitan Development Authority.

Serampore is home to many historical buildings dated to this period, especially St. Olav's Church built in 1806, bearing the monogram of the Danish King Christian VII. The church, locally known as the Danish church, is owned by the Calcutta Diocesan Trust Association, and is headed by the Bishop of Kolkata. The architectural conservation work carried out on the church was recently awarded an 'Award of Distinction' at the UNESCO Asia-Pacific Heritage Awards 2016.

The Lutheran church was initiated by Ole Big, the head of the Danish Trading Post of 18th century Serampore.

The church plan was drawn by the British church builder Robert Armstrong. The nave was completed in 1806, while the portico and the bell tower were added later in 1821. The church's architectural features are very similar to British churches of this period and closely resemble the neoclassical St Martin-in-the-Fields Church in London.

The neoclassical church design has a pediment that is supported by four sets of Ionic twin columns that form the entrance portico. This is followed by a straightforward, three-aisle, rectangular plan intercepted by columns periodically, which is approached through a set of broad steps. This rectangular structure is topped by a bell tower that has a clock on its external surface.

Periodic neglect had dilapidated many features of the 211-year-old church. The wooden members of the roof had given away due to dampness and an attack of white ants. The church had also suffered from constant exposure to dampness and misguided conservation works like cement plastering.


Conservation work

The main intent for the conservation of the church was to reclaim the space as one that could be beneficial to the community. The significant location of the church provided a space for cultural and public activities, irrespective of religion. While the Danish Ministry of Culture supported the conservation work financially, the principal conservation work was done by Architect Manish Chakraborti of Continuity Architects in Kolkata. The preliminary step taken by the architect was to initiate an emergency shelter over the building to protect the interiors of the building from exposure to the outside environment. The next was to arrest the rising dampness in the building.

The conservation work was carried by meticulously repairing only the parts of the building that were vulnerable. This is a philosophy that British historian William Morris from the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings (SPAB) stresses upon. Original material was reused where possible, and materials and paints were carefully chosen to integrate with the older material.

Chakraborti attributes the success of the project to careful budgeting. For instance, instead of investing in heavy waterproofing material to arrest the dampness of the building, site drainage issues were attended to, and the money thus saved was kept for future maintenance requirements. The scaffolding was designed specifically to be cost-efficient and more productive for the conservation process. Even the plastering was done in parts and layers, only where it was necessary. Flemming Aalund, consultant architect from the National Museum of Denmark, paid two visits a year to consult on the project. The interior of the church has been updated with better sound and lighting in such a manner that the authenticity of the architecture is not compromised upon.


The recognition

The Asia-Pacific Award for Cultural Heritage Conservation specifically supports local communities and the private sector in protecting their heritage, highlighting the importantance of local communities in safeguarding heritage.

India is a treasure trove of heritage structures. Often, privately owned heritage structures suffer hugely due to management issues and lack of funds. "In the field of architectural conservation in India today, ingenuity in architectural work is important and restoration is neither elitist nor for the privileged. It can be an economically viable option," says Chakraborti.

According to him, the conservation of the church has not only increased the footfall for the church, but has also brought the community together. India offers many such opportunities, and Chakraborti has other exciting projects on hand, like the renovation of a dilapidated tavern in Serampore into a coffee house, which will be called the Danish Tavern.

The restoration of St. Olav's Church will be showcased at the prestigious Best in Heritage conference in Dubrovnik this September.

My Take: 'Back to Basics'

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The theme for the next photo feature is 'BACK TO BASICS'. 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 May 22, 2017.

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

The ageless star power

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Let's begin by taking a small quiz:
1) Name three Hindi film superstars of 2007-17
Ans: Aamir Khan, Salman Khan, Shah Rukh Khan

2) Name three super-successful films of 2007-17
Ans: Dangal, Sultan, Raees

3) Top box office collections of 2007-17:
Ans: Rs 7.30 billion (Dangal, budget Rs 0.70 billion), Rs 5.84 billion (Sultan, budget Rs 0.70 billion), Rs 2.71 billion (Raees, budget Rs 0.85 billion).

So, who is ruling the tinsel town of Hindi film industry? The three Khans — Mr Perfectionist Aamir Khan, Bhaijaan Salman Khan and the Baadshah Shah Rukh Khan! And none of them is in the prime of his youth. They are all 50-plus of age and year after year they are going with guns blazing at every box office in both domestic and international markets.

With this kind of assured and sustained returns on their investments, why would any film producer, financier, distributor or even cinema theatre owner experiment with other stars? Which other organisation or market can assure such huge returns in such short periods of time? In the current scenario, who else evokes this kind of faith and unshakable trust?

And this hasn't been happening with only the above-mentioned three films. In the last decade, they have given us films like 3 Idiots, Dhoom 3, Ghajini, PK (Aamir Khan), Wanted, Kick, Dabangg, Bajrangi Bhaijaan, Sultan (Salman Khan) and My Name is Khan, Happy New Year, Dilwale, Fan, Raees, Chennai Express (Shah Rukh Khan). Earnings of Rs 100 crore per film have become passé. Now their films earn in billions.

Leading with dedication
In the entire last decade, the reigning triumvirate has become a money-making machine. You put a mere Re 1 in any of these three machines, and you are sure to get a minimum of Rs 100 back. That is the star power, attraction, magnetism and charisma they wield on the lovers of Hindi cinema. The latest news is that Dangal, which Aamir Khan has acted in and produced, released in 7,000 theatres in China and grossed more than Rs 20 crore on its opening day!

"The main reason behind their success is their hard work, sincerity and eagerness to do the best for every film," explains Ramesh Taurani, managing director, TIPS Industries Ltd, a pioneer in the production and distribution of music for more than three decades now. It is also into film production and distribution now.
"Presently, their films get a bumper opening. What more does a film distributor want?" asks Shyam Shroff, industry veteran, film-maker and founder-director of the three-decade-old Shringar Films. Shringar Films is a big name in film distribution, on-screen programming and film marketing. It was among the handful which laid the foundation of the multiplex chain of Fame Cinema. It produced Filmistaan, recipient of the Indian Government's National Film Award.

Raj Malik, vice-president (distribution) at Cinestaan Film Company, says, "Over the years, the Khans have built a certain level of credibility. Consumers (viewers) like them. They are quality entertainers. They make good movies. And all of them have become film producers and have their own production houses. So they know how a film works and what needs to be done. They have become box office machines."
The entire Hindi film industry, which is actually known as the 'matlabi duniya', and famous for backbiting, seems to make an exception when it comes to talking about the Khans. Everyone has only good words about the trio.

"Besides the money, what makes them superior is the way they conduct themselves. Over the years, they maintain relationships. They are always helpful, strictly follow the film's schedule, are highly committed to completing their films on time, and actively participate in the promotion of the film," explains P K Gupta, general manager at Rajshri Productions. Salman's relation with the Rajshri Productions family goes back to his debut film Maine Pyar Kiya. Since then they have made films like Hum Aapke Hain Koun..!, Hum Saath-Saath Hain and Prem Ratan Dhan Payo.

Even in the list of Forbes India (2016), the Khans get top billing. SRK topped the list, followed by Salman, and Aamir was listed 14th as in that accounting year, Dangal had not yet been released. In the past five years, the Khans have together shared over Rs 8 billion only in ticket money and accounted for the sale of hundreds of millions of tickets a year. On an average, each of their films in this period has made over Rs 3.5 billion. Jointly, they hold the record of nine out of 10 highest grossers in the history of Hindi cinema.
Every co-star has a good word about them. Actor Amrita Rao, who acted with Shah Rukh Khan in the Farah Khan-directed Main Hoon Na, says, "Once the initial ice breaks, the Khans are very friendly and helpful on the shoot. The reason for their popularity is their willingness to move with the times. They keep themselves relevant with the new generation, be it their fitness mantra, their language or attire. If you have seen Shah Rukh sir interacting with AIB (All India Bakchod), a group of stand-up comedians, all aged below 30 years, you will know what I'm saying. He talks their lingo, dresses like them, and can discuss any topic of interest with the young."

Taurani elaborates, "Khans are superstars because they choose their films very carefully. They have become very selective now, especially in the last 10 years. They have delivered blockbusters and that's the sole reason their popularity has reached this level." Way back in the 1990s, when TIPS got into film production, Salman had acted in their first two films, Auzaar and Jab Pyaar Kisise Hota Hai. The good vibes continue even today.

It's not just the industry that goes gaga over them, even film lovers are crazy about them. In fact, their popularity has reached such a high point that the maiden wish of most tourists flocking Mumbai is either to see Mannat or Galaxy, the residential address of Shah Rukh and Salman respectively. Years ago, it used to be Pratiksha, the home of the legendary Amitabh Bachchan. At any given time of the year, if you visit Bandstand in Bandra, an upscale Mumbai suburb, you're likely to see scores of people clicking selfies with Mannat or Galaxy in the background. During the stars' birthdays, police have to be called to manage the fans milling around their houses. Remember the last shot of Shah Rukh Khan-starrer Fan? Thousands of fans are shown at the gate of Mannat with Shah Rukh waving at them from the gates of his bungalow. It's not a filmy shot. It's a regular scene. Same is the scene in front of Salman Khan's residence.

One can analyse the phenomenon in any way one wants to. Even post the normal retirement age of Hindi film heroes, they seem ageless and continue to rule the industry. The combined force of the youth brigade, including the likes of Ranbir Kapoor, Ranveer Singh, Sushant Singh Rajput, Varun Dhawan, Shahid Kapoor, or even the slightly older Hrithik Roshan isn't able to dethrone the Khans. In fact, several films of Akshay Kumar, Ajay Devgn and Hrithik Roshan are doing really well, but they can't reach the heights of popularity of the Khans. Roshan's last film, Kaabil, got into problems as distributors didn't give the Roshans as many screens as they gave for SRK's Raees, which released simultaneously.

Jatin Shah, owner of the 75-year-old Shri Shivaji Talkies at Talegaon near Pune, says, "Usually, there is no clash of big-star films, but when Raees and Kaabil were released on the same day, we had to opt for Raees. Our theatre, started by my grandfather, is still single-screen. Multiplexes can easily show as many films as they want to and rake in the moolah. At the end of the day, commerce decides for us, and Shah Rukh is a bigger draw."

All this adulation hasn't come in easily. They didn't become superstars overnight. They have struggled, faced flops and flak from the industry, and also from their fans. SRK was criticised for his mannerisms, Salman for his tryst with the law, and Aamir for his highhandedness. But they learnt their lessons. It has taken them time, real hard work, perfect strategising and great adaptation to the changing times. They made a niche for their names, enhanced their plus points, and camouflaged their negative points.


The selling point

Each Khan has his own sales pitch. With Aamir, it started with the bland dialogue in Dil Chahta Hai, "Perfectionist ko improve karna mushkil hota hai!" That was way back in 2001. Sixteen years since that dialogue, the tag of Mr Perfectionist is associated with him. In an interview for one of Mumbai's tabloids, versatile actor Nawazuddin Siddiqui had remarked, "Aamir Khan is a perfectionist. To work with him, one has to be a perfectionist too!"

Aamir has been super-selective with his films, and the film Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India (2001), which got nominated for the Academy Award for the Best Foreign Language Film, changed his entire image. Winner of Padma Shri (2003) and Padma Bhushan (2010) awards, he changed his track of the usual boy-meets-girl films to theme-based ones like Taare Zameen Par, PK, Ghajini, Fanaa, Rang De Basanti and the latest, Dangal.

His image got an unprecedented boost when he produced and anchored the talk show Satyamev Jayate, telecast on Star Plus. Following the talk show, his fans have started to believe that 'Aamir can do no wrong!'

Then there is Salman Khan. Though continuously embroiled in legal issues, the man's aura doesn't seem to diminish. Every film of his gets the biggest opening all over the world. A profit of Rs 100 crore per film is passé for this actor. His last film, Sultan, grossed Rs 6 billion only at the box office, and is still raking in the moolah.

The romancing-fighting-dancing hero, who considers himself as an actor with no acting skills, continues to be a charmer when it comes to box office returns. The industry and his fans believe in his helping nature. 'When in need, go to bhai' is the conviction of people. In 2007, he started an NGO, Being Human, which works for the education and healthcare of the underprivileged.

SRK, who was a stark outsider to the industry (both Salman and Aamir belong to blue-blooded families in the film industry), came into notice by playing negative roles — Baazigar, Darr, Anjaam. But his acting prowess soon gave him a strong foothold. He blossomed as a typical romantic hero and became famous for wooing his women with his arms spread wide. But he brought a different attitude to the industry. His wit, charm, respect for women, and love for his family came as a whiff of fresh air to an outsider who had misplaced impressions of the industry.

Shah Rukh personifies intelligence. Latest is his TED talk at Vancouver, Canada. It was highly appreciated, and has since gone viral. His interviews are tongue-in-cheek, and he says the same things again and again, but in such a different way that one ends up reading the whole interview. He is very active on social media with his Twitter remarks, his podcasts and his interaction with the youth. He brought in the shrewd business aspect when he started his own company, Red Chillies Entertainment. He is estimated to be worth more than US $600 million and is considered to be one of the richest actors in the world. And to top this, he is known for his acting skills — 14 Filmfare awards, tied with the legendary Dilip Kumar with eight best actor awards, the Padma Shri by the Government of India, and the Ordre des Arts et des Lettres and Legion d'Honneur by the Government of France.


With a business acumen
Besides all these plus points, the Khans are also shrewd business people. "They only select stories which are considered safe, and are unwilling to take projects which can be risky for the production houses. Exceptions like Fan (SRK) and Talaash (Aamir) are very rare. They opt for big production houses which spend lavishly in making goodlooking films and are also generous when it comes to promoting and marketing them. These films get spoken and written about so much by the media before their release that people feel guilty if they do not watch them," enlightens the well-known trade expert Amar Solanki, who has been analysing and talking about films for over four decades now.

Helping them are the changing storylines. Till the end of the era of Rishi Kapoors, Govindas and even Amitabh Bachchan, films dealt only with romance. As Rishi Kapoor once said, "I got tired of flaunting colourful cardigans and singing duets in the Alps!" Along with him, the audience too was tired of these themes. But now in his second innings, Rishi Kapoor has become more popular. Ten years ago, no one would have thought of making films like Dangal, Fan, Dear Zindagi, Bajrangi Bhaijaan, Rockstar, Phillauri, Lunchbox, Pink, Kapoor and Sons etc. In fact, it's the new kind of films that has given a new lease to older stars like Rishi Kapoor, Anil Kapoor and Amitabh Bachchan.

But to dethrone the tornado of the three super-Khans, age has to step in, only then can the younger lot dream of ruling the Hindi film industry!

Between the slashes

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It sounds like an easy question to ask any person, with an easy answer: what gender are you? You'd expect to hear either male or female. But then comes the hard part: what makes you that gender? The answer is not 'body type' any more.

Most people falsely equate sex and gender. Biology is the determinant for sex: the body type is usually one or the other, male or female. But along with biology come a vaguely defined set of social behaviours and roles: how one dresses, how one feels about others, what attracts, what frightens. These constitute gender, and this attribute is not as cleanly defined in humans as biology.

It comes as no surprise, then, that modern psychology is defining gender as belonging on a spectrum: one end definitely, completely 'male', and the other end 'female'. Every human fits somewhere on that spectrum at an emotional level. More importantly, one's place on that spectrum is not permanently fixed. Body composition, psychology, and social situations can alter one's place over time. This conception of gender is more inclusive than the older binary one, and brings in those who have been traditionally marginalised and labelled transgenders.

More importantly, it also introduces the newly coined terminology of 'gender fluidity'. There is a growing number of people who don't feel comfortable with either end of the spectrum — but feel somewhere in the middle, and feel their place shifting frequently. Miley Cyrus, the actor and singer, has been one of several who have come out as gender-fluid in the recent past. "In an LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) centre, I saw one human in particular who didn't identify as male or female. Looking at them, they were both: beautiful and sexy and tough but vulnerable and feminine but masculine. And I related to that person more than I related to anyone in my life," she said in an interview.

The technical term for this type of feeling is 'gender dysphoria' — the sensation of being a different gender from what the body reflects. It includes the already wellknown phenomena of transsexualism, asexualism, gender neutrality and others.

More important than the technical classification, however, is the acknowledgement and support from society. It starts with the basics: gender neutral folks prefer to be addressed as 'they/their/them' rather than 'him' or 'her'. Increasingly, schools and malls are setting up gender-neutral washrooms. Facebook has added a 'Custom' value for its 'Gender' attribute in user profiles, letting users set what they'd like. And adoption laws and marriage laws are updating to make definitions of parenthood and marriage more flexible. The acceptance of society has a catalytic effect: in a recent survey of teenagers, 81% said that gender doesn't define a person as much as it used to in earlier times. Removing the categorisation from its pre-eminent place gives people the freedom to be what they want to be.

In India...
"I think gender fluidity has been gaining acceptance over the past few years in India," says Amrita Chanda, an LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer) activist and researcher. "It started with the understanding, in the late 90s, that human sexuality and gender need to be brought out in the open and discussed. Our laws were stuck in an older era. Over the last two decades, largely due to activists, the laws and society are becoming more accommodating."

Chanda runs a pilot project called 'Safe Spaces' with a software company in Bengaluru. Once a week, she and a fellow activist take turns to hear out any employees who need to share their thoughts and feelings on gender and sexuality to a sympathetic ear. But gender fluidity is not a completely alien concept to India, she says.

"In Karnataka, there has traditionally been a sect of devotees of goddess Yellamma — members of this sect are called Jogappas. These include men who partly identify with the female gender, and who attribute this to the goddess channelling herself through them. Although some are physically transsexual, others lead a normal life except on specific days of the week, when they dress up like women and perform the goddess's rituals.

"One interesting thing we saw in studying this community was that when they are thus 'possessed' by the goddess, the Jogappas become a sort of consultants to the neighbouring women — they sit down with anyone who wants domestic or relationship advice, and help them as best as they can. A man would never be accepted by women as one of them, but when he's taken on a woman's gender identity, he's included with no questions asked.

"Unfortunately, Jogappas and other sects of transsexuals are often marginalised and forced to activities like begging and prostitution. There are a few NGOs working in this regard… to help get them training and work opportunities, but progress is slow," she adds.

In a recent crime thriller by Anita Nair, Cut Like Wound, a pivotal character was a Jogappa. It helped bring the sect to a new section of readers.

However, this whole approach towards the Jogappas and others turns it into an 'us vs. them' problem: 'they' are not of 'normal' gender, while 'we' are reassuringly either male or female. It is this distinction that the gender fluidity debate seeks to remove. This may be harder to achieve than it first looks — gender norms are insidious. Nearly all social behaviours — from eating out to taking up a job, to initiating a date, to dressing up — are subtly assigned gender norms and thus assumed to be done by either one or the other gender. When one does not want to be either male or female, how does one choose how to behave socially?

Regardless of the debate on gender fluidity being relatively new, there are several examples of the concept in our mythology, showing that it's been around for a while. The gods, for example, are portrayed as above the limitations of gender. Religious symbology not only equates the gender roles with prakriti — nature (Female) and purusha — human endeavour (Male), but also allows for a mix of the two in the human form. Shiva has the Ardhanarishwara form which is half-man and half-woman. Vishnu has an alternate form of Mohini, who is portrayed as beautiful and 'all woman', but who is still the same god. To take the story further, Shiva falls in love with Mohini, and cannot be convinced to give up the infatuation though he knows who it is. In other words, love and affection are beyond the narrow definitions of gender. Other examples abound in the traditional texts. Shikhandi, a character in the Mahabharata, was born a woman but raised a man.

Responsible approach
What role can we as individuals play in this ongoing debate? First, we need to recognise the validity of the arguments for gender fluidity. Next, we need to withhold our judgement of anyone who does not identify with the traditional gender norms. People are who they are, and people change over time. Gender fluidity, though recognised formally only recently, is an intrinsic part of human psyche. The young boy who wants to dress up in 'girl' clothes, and the girl who feels most comfortable as a tomboy should not need to worry about what society thinks of them.

In the years to come, we will gain even more insights into the psychology of gender, helping us understand ourselves better. But the recognition of the 'moving scale of gender' and of gender fluidity are important milestones.

A long way,but she's arrived

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ShilokMukkati, bright-eyed with kajal and expressive, couldn't be happier or busier these days. She, at 21 years, holds the reins of a community radio programme (Colourful Kamanabillu) that listens to the voices and stories of the LGBTQ community.

A native of Coorg and an Arts undergraduate, her footing's in this city, her home and haven where she writes verses in Kannada, dances, hangs out with friends and lives freely with the choice of her identity as a transwoman. But Shilok swears that until a few years back, even the term LGBTQ hadn't entered her life, and to go back in time is to recall a lifetime of experiences packed within those few years.
This is her story…

"In my childhood, I didn't dwell much on the responsibilities that went with the identities of being a boy and a girl.

I helped mom in the kitchen and liked to dress up during festivities; I also played sports with guys. But several people often advised me to be more like a boy and pointed out what I did was a girl's job! But for me, it was just helping out mom.

When I went to watch films, I aspired to be like the heroine; playing house with my cousin sister felt more comfortable and natural.

When I was asked to dance as Shiva, I preferred to play Parvati because I was more graceful and just couldn't pull off masculine dance moves.

I certainly knew what I liked more as years went on. As my femininity was out there, people began to correct my behaviour to suit their idea of the two well-known gender identities.

Such instances conditioned my mind to think that since I was assigned to be a male, I should.

At the high school I went to in a Coorg village, abuses came and chances for self-expression vanished. When many girls were given the stage to speak, I wasn't considered because I was this 'feminine boy' who wouldn't be any good. But I was so confident about my voice.

When I walked to high school, I thought I was entering hell. But my pre-university days were a game changer.

Because I was never given any attention so far, I wanted that now from my teachers and students. I assumed that my voice and my mannerisms made me vulnerable to people's abuse. I made up my mind to indulge and succeed in academics so I wouldn't be an easy target. This meant visiting the always-shut library to read books, and watching English films to learn pronunciation. And I aced many presentations and was appreciated.

At home, there was time and space for introspection and finding myself. My parents, both government employees, were very busy people. If I complained to my mom about my schoolmates teasing me, she hoped I would sort out the problems myself. They didn't like to encourage me with attention because in my family circles I was already labelled as a spoiled kid.

Bengaluru days
"As a typical village boy, I stood for the first time in Bengaluru. I had decided to move out from my parents' house as I sought independence, and I knew this would change my life. I was 17. Here I was, in the city with huge buildings, with none for support, and a college full of new faces.

Surely the college seniors would rag me, I believed. From my side, I didn't want to give them a chance to humiliate me and I decided to put on the mask of a man. Although I was comfortable being a woman, I was a transphobic myself! I feared abuse from people in response to my coming out as a transwoman.

However, on the first day of college, when I saw a handsome boy in my class, all my preparations of acting like a man fell flat! At college, not one person questioned my identity. My seniors were super-sweet. Here I began to behave like myself. People were accepting of me. I began to write poems and even found that the other students and teachers listened when I narrated them. They were interested in what I had to say! I began to dance.

It was also in this city that I, for the first time, confidently said I am a woman. I loved growing up in this supportive environment. And I have been in love with this city ever since.

Personally, I know some transphobic and homophobic friends who have changed, who have accepted me now. When I came out as a transwoman to my parents, my mom assumed I was just influenced by the show I'm hosting. I understand her,because for her, it must have been like giving birth to another child.

Well, acceptance is going to take time, but society's definitely changing for the better. I like to say that my identity is not only being a transwoman... I'm a person made of so many influences. It's easy to get stuck with identity politics, unfortunately.

In the end, we die. So respect humanity while we are here. That's what's important. We have a beautiful gift: to love one another, to think. And we should celebrate that. Why complicate matters?"

(As told to Shruthi Srinath)

Nexus so natural

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Changes in the seasons brought in festivities which signified the importance of nature. Students were taught to draw inspiration from their surroundings and use it either for language, art or performing art classes. The concept of planting of saplings and ploughing of fields during Briksharopan in the month of August was introduced to the students of Vishwa Bharti as part of the festivities and everyone participated in the grand colourful event. In our house, we have always seen water retained after washing pulses and vegetables being used for watering plants.

Several species of birds have their homes in our garden and the squirrels know where their breakfast is kept each morning. It is simple for my father to point to the differences in the pattern of rocks and landscapes just as the knowledge of medicinal plants and uses comes naturally to my mother. Devika Raghave, whose parents grew up at Santiniketan, recounts.


One man's vision

Rabindranath Tagore, when he set up the Viswa Bharati University in Santiniketan in 1921, wanted to create an environment for study where students would learn not just from books, but from experiences, and feel one with nature by being aware of the trees, the birds and the animals. Before he set up the university in 1901, he had started a school where classes were held in the sublime serenity of nature, under the trees. Tagore believed that 'the highest education is that which does not merely give us information, but makes our life in harmony with all existence'.

In close to a hundred years since Tagore envisioned this, we have, all around us, only witnessed the brutal destruction of nature by humans. All our modern day environmental problems are a result of our relationship with nature gone wrong. We have abused our rivers, forests, trees and animals, using them selfishly and offering no nurturing care in return for what we receive. In the name of development, we have built structure upon structure so our cities choke for air and rains flood our homes; we have encroached into forests leaving no safe haven for wild animals, so leopards walk into our concrete colonies and children's schools looking for food and water.

Our collective greed has led us to forget how our culture and festivals were meant to foster our connect with nature. We have lost sight of the essence of traditions and engaged ourselves with rituals. One such example is the festival of Naga Panchami, which dates back to when humans still lived in close proximity with nature and wild animals.

With the advent of monsoons, as the rain filled their pits, the snakes came out. There must have been awe and fear and reverence apart from the status the snake holds in religion and culture. The worship of the snake or cobra may have begun to prevent people from killing the snakes that may otherwise not harm humans. Today, it has become a mindless ritual. Snake charmers capture snakes from the wilderness, pull out their fangs, making them incapable of living on their own in the wild again, and bring the helpless creatures in cramped baskets to our doorsteps so we can feed them milk.


Forging lost connections

Anuragini Nagar, who works in the social development sector and is a naturalist at heart, says, "I wanted to explore the ways in which animals, birds and flora support each other. Last year, I joined a group that goes on wildlife tours with experts. The first was a herpetofauna trip that offered me a glimpse into the world of reptiles and amphibians. Since then, I have been on three birding trips and apart from all the beauty and wonder I came across, I discovered how birds have adapted to the change — from habitat, to beaks, to eating habits. So it is with nature." These trips have made her aware of the deep linkages between nature and humans and the fact that there is a space for every being on this planet.

Priya Ramakrishnan Anand, also a busy full-time professional, takes out time to trek to the mountains at least twice every year. Priya says that amidst the unspoilt beauty of the mountains, surrounded only by the awe-inspiring stillness of nature, the mind slows down to absorb the images and the essence of nature.

MapleTree Farms, a farmers' combine of about 70 farmers that delivers fresh, organically grown farm produce to almost 60 Bengaluru households, insists on the buyers visiting the farm to see the practices they follow in order to not harm the soil or disturb the delicate eco-system. Shankar, who leads this initiative, issues a light threat every once in a while, warning his buyers that he's going to make one yearly visit to the farm compulsory for them to continue being supplied. It is his way of facilitating our lost connection with nature.

A similar goal was in the mind of the young entrepreneurs of Linger, a chain of holiday homes with the tagline and philosophy — 'do nothing vacations'. Samir Shisodia, co-founder, tells me that "boredom is the start of awesome possibilities". So their 'properties' do not offer 'packages' — there is no television, no snooker tables or chlorinated swimming pools. There are, however, hills to trek to, farms to visit, villagers to talk with, and streams to bathe in or to fish.

They encourage the use of locally grown food and offer local dishes. He says their guests are almost always happy and grateful for the experience of being led back to the simple pleasures offered free in nature — that of sitting in the dark, spotting fireflies, soaking in a sudden shower, getting to know trees and birds by their names.


Healing the earth

We are all naturalists and nature lovers at heart, but in the mad rush that is our life, we have forgotten to stop and smell the flowers. But increasingly, people are reviewing and altering their lifestyles to live more in harmony with nature, to harm it less. From completely environmentally responsible, resource-efficient buildings to organic farms that not only give us chemical-free produce but also prevent the depletion of natural nutrients from the soil; from groups promoting eco-friendly lifestyle choices to those working to save our rivers and lakes, trees and animals — people in their own way, big and small, are trying to heal the planet — one band-aid at a time.

According to recent news reports, about 200 nature-loving volunteers came together to make seed balls on Earth Day in Bengaluru. To reverse the effects of deforestation and climate change, this is an effective and inexpensive way of planting trees. Seeds of local varieties of trees that are suited to the climate of the region are rolled into soil and manure and then these laddoos are tossed into forests and barren land before the monsoons. These germinate and take root. The germination rate is believed to be 70%. This no-till method is also said to prevent degradation of soil.


Top of form

Many farm owners have opened up their farms for visits and stay. Families, especially children brought up in polluted, concrete cities, get an opportunity to get close to nature and partake of the simple pleasures of life like the company of farm animals and learning how fruit and vegetables that they consume, grow. Many groups organise nature, tree and bird walks to spread awareness about our natural surroundings.


All life in harmony

"The basis of a man's nature is almost always... the soil from which he draws sustenance, the air which he breathes, the sights, sounds, habits to which he is accustomed. They mould him..." (Sri Aurobindo)

High-schooler Abeer Khan, when she came to know that about 10% of the waste in her city of Bhopal comprised single-use plastic bags, began raising awareness about it and offered alternatives.

Starting from her school, she has facilitated the ban of plastic bags in two other localities of the city.
More schools than before are promoting learning through experiences; where students understand their linkages with nature and become aware of how human activities threaten the environment and animals.

There are more outdoor programmes that help students make sustainable lifestyle choices, explore eco-systems, and become aware of the natural world. But because this learning too is eventually geared towards the examination and score-based school system that aims to only better-'equip' students for their performance in exams, the crucial takeaway is lost. A child who learns about water conservation in school does not stop to think before leaving the water tap on at home.

In the absence of the fundamental sensibility of appreciation, wonder and regard for nature; of living our lives in harmony with it, we cause irreversible harm.

Long ago, we were walking on the ghats of Benaras and munching peanuts. Soon our hands were full of the empty shells and there was no trash bin in sight. We kept walking, holding on to our litter, displeased that we could eat no more. Our local guide and companion laughed at our predicament and pointed to the goats that were following us. They were polishing off the shells he was tossing away, leaving the ghats clean. But city life, where our segregation is complete when every bit of land, every tree and animal is property and not our partner, does not offer such simple solutions.


We'd like to hear from you. Do mail us at: sundayherald@deccanherald.co.in

Wordly, unwise

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We should be wrapping the planet in shrink wrap and preserving it for the future. Instead, we are kneading toxins in it, microwaving it, slathering it with all kinds of 'cides' — insecticides, germicides, rodenticides. In all this, what we are heading towards cannot be brushed a-cide, I mean, aside.

At this point, I don't think we even know how far ahead we have gone. I'd wager we've reached the edge. And we are not walking back because we are more short-sighted than me without my spectacles (Yes, I admit I once gobbled up a paper napkin thinking it was appam. But, I am not ashamed — I was saving the world, one paper at a time). We are happily sinking our greedy teeth into hormone-pumped mangoes, dousing ourselves with toxic deodorants, shoving pollutants in the air and patting ourselves on our backs for what we should be mourning.

While we search for intelligent life outside the planet, do we even realise how stupid life on this planet has become? Why are we so stupid? Why doesn't the nation want to know that ever?

Recently, I was in the US, admiring the seeming perfectness of things around me. Plump, puffy clouds bobbed above us as we sped through Michigan towards the airport: the holiday was over. They looked cute: chubby Pokemons playing pranks above us. Two tall chimneys appeared, stuck like giant cigarettes in the ground, puffing tubby coils of smoke upwards. Interestingly, the smoke was the same colour as the clouds.

"Look at that, mamma," my daughter pointed towards it, "It looks like a cloud-manufacturing factory."

It actually did! The smoke looked exactly like the clouds. Puff. Puff. Puff. It was joining the clouds in a fascinating rhythmic flurry. And that reminded me — the frothy lakes in Bengaluru look like they are covered with soft, chaste snow — a beautiful sight to behold, if one is unaware of what is actually causing it.

The deceitful world we have created for ourselves is as fake as Rowling's. The only difference is that this one is killing, not entertaining us. In fact, we need Harry Potter to get his broom and beat us senseless till we realise what we are doing.

Care for some steamed corn with a side of tofu and some zucchini?

And a glass of milk?

A bowl of seedless papayas?

Sounds like a healthy meal, doesn't it? But, with the liberal GMO-isation of foods, this meal could be killing you faster than burgers and fries.

A GMO, or genetically modified organism, is a plant, animal, microorganism or other organism whose genetic makeup has been modified using recombinant DNA methods (also called gene splicing), gene modification or transgenic technology. Studies have shown that they may be making us immune to antibiotics, increasing toxicity in our bodies in addition to not giving us the nutrition their original cousins provided.

Yes, humans are capable of inventing stuff that are well-intended, but are harming us. Like those WhatsApp 'good morning' images.


Homewreckers

We say this planet is our home, but we are rendering it homeless. The very elements that nurture it — air, water, soil — are play dough in our monstrous hands to which we add our resourcefulness to create weapons for mass destruction. We make Hitler sound like a Mary Poppins in comparison.
One in eight of the 82,000 ingredients used in personal care products are industrial chemicals, including carcinogens, pesticides, reproductive toxins, and hormone disruptors. And you thought the worst bad make-up could do is to turn you into Kim Kardashian?

We are happily eating GMO foods, wearing chemical make-up, microwaving our food, chopping trees and watching RCB play. Okay, the last one is not ruining the planet, just us.

Why did god let humans become all-powerful? He should have given plants the powers to lift their sturdiest branch and hit every nature-offender. Swish. Swoosh. Bam. One tight slap.

Let's take it slow...

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Harried, exhausted, overworked, overwhelmed. Words that we frequently use to describe our state of mind and being, as we race through life juggling responsibilities, meeting deadlines and keeping commitments. In a bid to do more, we find ourselves cutting back on precious sleep, succumbing to the convenience of junk and processed foods, and surrendering to our smartphones helplessly.

As Carl Honoré, an internationally acclaimed author and speaker very aptly puts it, "We've become obsessed with squeezing every last drop of productivity out of our time." Because of which everything suffers, "our diet and health, our work, relationships, the community, and our environment." Honoré also says, "There's something profoundly unsatisfying about a life in a hurry." That's why the Slow Movement, a global trend in favour of slowing down, is steadily gaining momentum, and is now making its presence felt in India.

About approach

No, it's not about slowing things down to a crawl. "The Slow Movement is about seeking to do everything at the right speed. Savouring the hours and minutes rather than just counting them. Doing everything as well as possible, instead of as fast as possible. It's about engineering a profound change in the way we work, eat, play and live," explains Honoré, who is hailed as the 'godfather of the Slow Movement.'

But there was a time when even Honoré's life was "an endless race against the clock". His 'wake-up call' came when he found himself toying with the idea of buying a collection of One-Minute Bedtime Stories. It suddenly hit him that he was even ready to speed up the precious moments with his children at the end of the day. And that's when he started thinking about the possibility of slowing down, which led him to write his first book, In Praise of Slow.

Referred to as the 'bible of the Slow Movement', the book puts forth the idea that 'slow' could be "a universal label to explain the benefits of doing everything at the right speed", including education, work, exercise, sex etc. In fact, every aspect of our life could do with a bit of 'slow', especially the corporate world.

Citing the example of companies like Google, Apple, Deutsche Bank, Bose, Procter & Gamble and McKinsey among others, Honoré says, "Forward-thinking companies are looking for ways to help their staff slow down by giving them more control over their schedules so they can work at their own pace. By limiting working hours, or by creating quiet spaces for doing yoga, taking a massage, or even a short nap during the workday."

At Daimler, the German automobile company, when staffers are on vacation, all their incoming email is deleted and the sender is notified and steered towards an available colleague. That way, they don't return to face an overflowing inbox.

Zappos, the online shoe giant, practises the concept of Slow Hiring and takes months getting to know a prospective candidate so that when they do recruit, they hire the ideal employee, saving both time and money in the long run.

World over, people are recognising the benefits of slowing down, "living fully in the moment and forging deep and meaningful bonds with other people, creating a world that is happier, healthier and more humane," says Honoré. As for the origins of the Slow Movement, he adds, "People have been defending the value of slowness for at least 200 years — think of the Romantics, the Transcendentalists, the Arts and Crafts Movement, even the hippies. But the idea of a Slow Movement, which seeks to blend fast and slow, to help people work, live and play better in the modern world, is more recent. Born in Italy, the Slow Food movement helped recapture the word 'slow' as something positive."

It all started in 1986 with Carlo Petrini objecting against the spread of the fast food culture and the opening of McDonald's in Rome, which he perceived as a threat to local food habits and culinary traditions. Three years later, he founded the International Slow Food Movement in Paris with the approach that everyone in the world has the right to good, clean and fair food. Good, in terms of quality and flavour, clean, where the food is produced in an environment-friendly manner, and fair, where the food prices benefit both the consumer and the producer.

Petrini's small-scale demonstration has since spiralled into a global movement, spread across 160 countries, which also includes an active Indian chapter with multiple organisations across the country, working to promote Slow Food.

The North East Slow Food & Agrobiodiversity Society (NESFAS) based in Shillong, Meghalaya, is one such organisation. NESFAS undertakes the cataloguing of endangered traditional foods under the 'Ark of Taste' project. It also promotes a network of millet cultivators and beekeepers, encourages farmers to grow indigenous varieties of rice, promotes sericulture in collaboration with weaving communities, and organises biodiversity walks for school and college students.

Other important initiatives include the Mei-Ramew (Mother Earth) food festival and farmers' markets, which celebrate indigenous cuisines and cultures. Apart from local delicacies, native ingredients are tweaked to offer visitors a chance to sample interesting food options like millet pancakes and rice congee with wild edibles. Those visiting also get a chance to interact directly with different communities from the northeast and purchase agricultural produce, handicrafts and traditional weaves. Such food festivals, although on a much smaller scale, are even organised in villages to draw attention to unique crop varieties that are on the verge of disappearing, and highlight forgotten cuisines.

Then there's Chefs' Alliance India, the other arm of the Slow Food movement, which aims at improving the overall quality of food that is grown, cooked and served in restaurants and hotels across the country. The aim is to revive the interest of consumers and chefs in the abundant biodiversity of Indian agricultural produce, wild natural plants, indigenous grains and foods, and traditional methods of cooking.

Elaborating on the efforts made to popularise Slow Food, the Head of Chefs' Alliance India and the Executive Chef, ITC hotels, Rajdeep Kapoor says, "We promote farmers in our respective cities and source locally grown produce. We use 0 km sprouts — which is basically in-house cultivated sprouts and cress." He adds, "Our restaurants have a section in the menu called 'Local Love' — which are popular dishes representing that city. For example, The Delhi hotels have khasta kachori chaat, Delhi fish fry, choley poorie etc."

Other popular dishes on the 'Local Love' menu in ITC hotels across India are laal maans and daal baati choorma in Jaipur, Malwani prawn curry and Bohri biryani in Mumbai, kacche gosht ki biryani in Hyderabad, and macher jhol and kosha mangsho in Kolkata — a perfect way for guests to sample a bit of the local culture through the cuisine.

Ethical way

The other aspect of the Slow Movement that is 'slowly' becoming popular in India is Slow Fashion. Co-founder of the clothing brand Ethic Attic, Rema Sivaram says, "Slow fashion means everything typically opposite the regular mass-produced fashion."

With the mainstream fashion industry churning out mass-produced garments which retail at low prices, there is always the possibility that consumers end up purchasing more often, and more than they need. This overconsumption takes a toll on the environment as well as the workers producing these goods. That's where Slow Fashion comes in — "as it brings together everything that is fair trade, sustainable, organic and friendly to the people and the planet," says Sivaram, who along with her business partner Pradeep Krishnappa, has been working in the Fair Trade and artisan circuit for years.

Apart from employing women weavers from Pochampally and the northeast, they have recently collaborated with a group of transgenders for the production and finishing works. Following the tenets of Slow Fashion assiduously, Ethic Attic features apparels and accessories made out of organic cotton, lotus flower fabric, non-violent silk, linen, bamboo etc. "All the fabrics we use are Fair Trade-certified, which means the supply chain has been fair.

They are also certified organic fabrics, making them sustainable to grow and use," says Sivaram.

Similarly, in Shillong, fashion designer Daniel Syiem is doing his bit to promote Slow Fashion with the aim of "protecting and promoting the dying art of handweaving of Ryndia (eri silk), while using fashion as a medium to give the outside world a chance to peek into our culture and tradition."

Ryndia is the only silk extracted from the cocoons without killing the silkworm, while the fabric is hand-woven by women of the Ri-Bhoi district in Meghalaya. Syiem says, "Working with Ryndia allows me to come up with garments which are 100% natural. The vegetable dyes we use are all locally sourced, while the buttons and fasteners are made out of natural products like bamboo, pine cone or wood." He adds, "We practise fair trade with our weavers and allow them to dictate the price based on their efforts and time taken to produce the fabric."

Syiem is also working on reviving the use of the traditional loin-looms for weaving and often organises skill-upgradation training sessions for the weavers to introduce them to modern designs, patterns and international trends.

While Sivaram and Krishnappa organise a bi-monthly event called Slow Fashion Weekend in Bengaluru, through which they bring together similar brands under one umbrella, Syiem's focus is more on the international market. "We are working tirelessly to establish our brand in parts of Europe, London and Singapore so that the benefit will trickle down to the women weavers who are the mainstay of our venture," he says.

Parenting without pressure

Even though the term Slow Parenting is not being actively used in India yet, the philosophy behind it is definitely catching on. Simply put, "Slow Parenting is to parent without an agenda, with the ultimate objective of enjoying every moment with your child," says Dr Debmita Dutta, a practicing clinician and a parenting and wellness consultant in Bengaluru. She adds, "With the world becoming more competitive, we want our children to be prepared for anything and everything. And that is why we hyper-parent or helicopter-parent them."

Honoré feels, "We end up pushing, polishing and protecting our children with superhuman zeal. But this high-pressure approach doesn't work. Hyper-parenting kids at any age will always backfire."

Take the example of five-year-old Shiv (name changed) who was extremely good at tennis, but by the age of seven, he refused to touch the racquet anymore. His parents had pushed him into so much coaching that he had eventually burnt out and begun to hate something he loved.

This is where Honoré's second book, Under Pressure, can provide valuable insight, as it explores 'the good, the bad and the ugly of modern childrearing', while offering a blueprint for change. Honoré says, "Slow parents understand that child-rearing should not be a cross between a competitive sport and product-development. It is not a project; it's a journey."

In her training sessions, Kesang Menezes, co-founder of 'Parenting Matters', a parenting resource centre in Chennai, often educates parents about the Montessori principle of 'follow the child', which advocates not directing every activity your children engage in, but instead, allowing them to develop and do things at their own pace.

Elaborating on this, Dr Dutta says, "Creativity is the mind's voice that can only be heard in the silence of boredom. A child who is too busy to be bored will never be creative enough." She also believes that social skills are learnt when children are allowed to interact without adult supervision, and a child who is always a part of organised activities and organised play will never learn how to forge relationships or develop the skills required to thrive in the world. Then comes decision-making, a skill perfected over time. Children, who have everything decided for them, never have a chance to practise decision-making and will struggle when they need to make important choices. This is why we need to parent slowly.

In the same vein

While the movement is still young in India, and we sure have a long way to go, across the world, the Slow philosophy has already made inroads into almost all walks of life. Other popular Slow movements include Slow Cities, Slow Travel, Slow Sex, Slow Journalism, Slow Libraries, Slow Education, Slow Art, Slow Medicine... well, the list is exhaustive.

According to Honoré, "The Slow culture-quake is not some fashionable diversion you read about in the Sunday newspapers one week, and it's gone within the year. It signals the beginning of a profound cultural revolution." As for its future, he adds, "The Slow revolution will be slow! I don't think we'll create a Slow world next week, next year, or even within the next 10 years. This is a long-term project, but we can do it. For a cultural revolution to occur, you need three factors: the need for change; an awareness of the need for change; and people willing to put that change into practice."

So for starters, are you willing to put aside your smartphone to stop and smell the roses?


With some style

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When supply follows demand, it makes for good business. Taran Kaur Dhillon, better-known as Hard Kaur in the music circles, understands this only too well. "There is a huge demand for party songs.

My friends have been asking me about my next dance number," says the Indo-British rapper, as she makes time for a telephonic interview, amidst the promotion frenzy of her latest Saregama single 'Jhumka Gira Re'.

"It's not a remix; it's a brand new song. This one's really different. Yeh jhumka club meingirahain (this earring has fallen in a night club)," quips the queen of hip-hop music, who debuted with the chartbuster 'Ek Glassy' a decade ago. From doing live shows across the globe to crooning for Bollywood movies and even acting in one, this songster has done it all. However, scratch beneath the peppiness and daredevilry that's often associated with the woman who has carved a niche for herself in a predominantly male industry, and you'll find a moving story of loss, abandonment, courage and determination.

Daring to be

In the 1984 Punjab riots, six-year-old Taran lost her father. The in-laws threw out the widow and her two young children. Unable to handle the pressure of being a single parent, Taran's mother remarried and moved to the UK, hoping for a brighter future for the family. Sadly, it turned out to be an abusive marriage.

Growing up in a distressing environment and struggling to fit into a foreign culture — where she was laughed at for tying her hair in plaits — the young immigrant found solace in hip-hop music, introduced to her by the black girls at school. It turned out to be the lifeline that helped Taran find her voice. "I'm a fan of hip-hop. It lets you be you," says the first female rapper of India, who loves to pen songs based on her life experiences.

Her debut solo album 'Supawoman' gave audiences a peek into the struggles and strength that define the lady. In no time, Bollywood offers came pouring in, with hits like 'Move Your Body' (Johnny Gaddaar), 'Bas Ek King' (Singh Is Kinng), 'Talli' (Ugly Aur Pagli), 'Move Your Body Now' (Kismat Konnection) and 'Lucky Boy' (Bachna Ae Haseeno), making Hard Kaur — who by then had performed on stage with international icons like De La Soul and Justin Timberlake — a household name in India.
"The music scene in India is changing. People want fun, happy songs that they can dance to at weddings and parties," explains the performer, as she shifts effortlessly from English to Hindi with Punjabi slang thrown in for good measure. The good news, Hard Kaur believes, is that more people are joining the industry and upping their game. "On the other hand, sometimes, they are trying too hard to impress, especially in the videos… There's too much pressure, body shaming, and no semblance to reality," she rues.

And what about sexist overtones in the current crop of Hinglish rap renditions? "He wants to buy you a car, and make you a queen for the night. What's there not to like?" she retorts, before roaring with laughter.

Never say never

In an industry that's so obsessed with 'image', Hard Kaur is happy to be 'different'. "I've gone from chubby to skinny to fab abs and all that... But I refuse to live under pressure. I'm gonna eat what I wanna eat, I am gonna live my way," says the rapper, who doesn't mind being called moti (fat) because her mother thinks she looks good.

Mum's the word for Hard Kaur and she draws inspiration from the unrelenting spirit of the woman who has always been willing to give life another chance. "I know I can do anything I want. I can go to France and learn to be a chef. You know, like Julia (from the movie Julie & Julia)," avers the self-confessed "big drama queen" known for her bindaas attitude and quirky styling and make-up.

Surprisingly, after winning accolades for her versatile acts on Jhalak Dikhhla Jaa 3, Hard Kaur has not cashed in on her popularity on reality TV. "I can't do something like Bigg Boss! However, if the right offer comes along, why not? You see, I'm not an actor, but when Akshay paji asked me to do Patiala House, I agreed. It has to be something interesting and challenging for me," she maintains.
Like an opportunity to work with Sanjay Dutt? "Oh, yes! I'm Sanju baba's biggest fan!" gushes the musician, before she drifts into la-la land, perhaps imagining the two of them grooving to some sizzling hip-hop number.

Old 'whine' in new bottle

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How lovely and pleasant it must be on a cloudy, drab morning, while you are mindlessly clicking and typing away to ennui, to receive an unexpected phone call from a college friend who coaxes you into turning up for a class reunion (and this is a class that graduated only three years ago, mind you) a few thousand kilometres away? Pretty heartwarming and reassuring, right? Well, that's where you are wrong.

If you're wondering why, here is one explanation. The receiver of the phone call (the bored Indian male, mid-20s, acquiesces to everything under a little pressure, having no specific or too many aims in life himself) is threatened in a friendly manner by the caller (clearly female, mid-20s, enjoys male attention, knows how to kill with sweetness), and asked "whether he would come to the reunion by himself or whether she would have to drag him by the collar."

This situation induces from me the same amount of indignation and skepticism that I felt when Imraan (Farhan Akhtar) throws Arjun's (Hrithik Roshan's) phone out of the car during their road trip in Spain in the Bollywood movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. This is a classic (and rather dramatised) example of how most Indians fail to draw boundaries and define space in friendship equations. Well, a little too harsh and judgmental as that may be, it is true, nonetheless.

This is how Kirdaar, a new web series by Begaana Pictures on YouTube, opens. Added to this are the angsty lives of 25-year-olds who are 'stuck' in dead-end jobs and want to quit them to pursue their 'passion' (acting, one can only presume, in this case). I mean, really, how much can we watch of Manic Pixie Dream Girls organising parties, getting hit on by older male professors and being addressed as saali (only affectionately, of course, we get it) by their male friends?

And what's more, while the acting prowess of many actors could use some honing, some concepts itself are very nebulous in the initial stages. For instance, 'the idea' that the characters keep talking about is a theme that is thrown around too much without offering any explanations, testing the viewer's patience a wee bit. It seems somewhat like the grand idea that was in the creator's mind did not scale just as magnificently on screen. Also, the course of the show makes one wonder what (or who) its target group really is.

Kirdaar would have been a perfect fit to the youth entertainment arena a few years ago (in the 2006-2013 period), but it seems to be a little behind times now. Especially in recent times, after the country having seen some real winners in Pitchers, Band Baaja Baarat etc, this would pale in comparison overall, but may strike a chord with some young hearts.

And if we think about it, there are substantial reasons as to why all such shows did well. And what exactly were those? Well, for starters, they had context (setting something realistic in the present day), relevance (themes that were topical), relatability (a sense of similarity to what youth in the country are indulging in) and simplicity (a lack of elaborate lines and settings, without compromising on the profundity). Also, that they all had less drama and more substance was what helped them gain a foothold in that space.

Kirdaar, at least initially, does not seem to have much of that. It attempts to balance the gravitas of a movie such as Dil Chahta Hai, the coolness of millennials and new-format dramatisation through some intense and trite dialogues, which do not seem to produce the effect they intended for it to.
Having said all that though, you might want to watch Kirdaar, if you are under 25, deal with below average existential crisis, have some extra time on your hand and dig entertainment that is not too refined.
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