Rarely would you miss films made by Nora Ephron and especially those starring Meryl Streep and Meg Ryan. Writer, director and screen player Nora Ephron is known for her ability to showcase parallel stories and romantic comedies like 'When Harry Met Sally'; 'You’ve Got Mail' and 'Sleepless in Seattle'. So yesterday when Julie and Julia were released, Vrushali and I were indeed ecstatic. The film touches your heart and enlivens your taste buds.
Julie and Julia is based on true stories and takes a sneak peek into the lives of two women. Nora delicately slices, squeezes, squashes and subtly blends Julia Child’s book 'My Life in France' and Julie Powell’s book – 'Julie and Julia' based on Powell’s blog in 2002 documenting her attempt to cook recipes from her idol Julia Child's 'Mastering the Art of French Cooking.'
Powell and Child have a lot in common. They are emotional, childless, extrovert, restless, and bored of their government jobs. Both of them relish food and are happily married to loving, compassionate and supportive husbands.
The film combines culinary history, travel, culture and moves between Paris in 1950 and New York in 2002. Julia Child (Meryl Streep) and her diplomat husband Paul Child (Stanley Tucci) arrive in Paris. The film unravels Julia’s journey from being a bored housewife in Paris to her enthusiastic trips in the local markets, from learning French cooking to eventually becoming a star chef on TV. Pucci gives an incredible performance and prefers to stay in the background.
Meanwhile in New York, Julie Powell’s (Amy Adams) husband Eric Powell (Chris Messina) encourages Julie to cook and write. He eagerly reads her blog and greedily gormandizes like a hungry bear. Both Julie and Julia enjoy experimenting in their kitchen and feeding their friends. Julia’s colleagues Simone Beck and Louisette Bertholle (Linda Emond and Helen Carey) are brilliant, encouraging and together they co-author a magnum opus on French cooking.
The direction is brilliant and intimately indulges you in Julie and Julia’s struggles and their triumph of discovering themselves through their culinary skills. Some scenes remain etched in your memory. Julia innocuously blanches tomatoes, seasons the food, chops onions, and shares her candid opinion about butter. Her visit to local bakeries and the joy she experiences from the aroma of fresh, green, leafy vegetables are strikingly infectious and adorable. The conversations between Julia and her husband Paul, and later with her sister Dorothy McWilliams (Jane Lynch) are engaging, lively and simply enriching. Jane Lynch plays a memorable role.
Pitted against these two talented actresses, is the charming Amy Adams who marvelously displays Powell’s mood swings and frustrations. Her kitchen in Queens, N.Y. would perhaps give jitters to Julia but her attempt to dish out all 524 recipes in 365 days is indeed laudable.
Meryl’s inimitable acting and mannerism distinctly re-creates Julia Child – the gourmet and gourmand. The near perfect intonation of Julia appears little melodramatic but that itself brings life into the character. Through her dialogues, Meryl inspires, endears and provides a wonderful glimpse into Julia’s life and yet cleverly avoids making her mockery.
A random check on the internet would show you original videos of Julia Child and also allow access to Julie Powell’s famous blog featuring the ‘F’ word and the one she wrote upon hearing the sad demise of Julia Child in 2004. Both Julia and Meryl are blessed with abundant talent, grace, charm and clearly demonstrate their tenacity to pursue their dreams and passion. No wonder, only Meryl Streep could have played Julia Child!
The film is immaculately blended but long and moves at a gentle pace. The plot lacks some thickness but not consistency and could have delved deeper into Julia’s life. The film ends almost abruptly and creates some curiosity to grab the original manuscripts. The music is loud and distorts the pathos or humor of moments. The director has an amazing eye for detail and the screenplay is fantastic. With amazing dexterity, the camera moves in and out of the characters lives, carefully capturing every emotions, joy and the mouth – watering vibrant texture of food including the few mishaps.
By the end of it all, you begin to love butter, and enjoy the delectable, sensuous French cuisine, peppered with challenges, but garnished with joy and passion and eagerly relish dollops of raspberry cream dessert with rich icing of respect, humour and love.
Bon Appetit!...
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Diwali - A Reason to Sparkle !
Diwali or Deepavali means rows of diyas (light in clay lamps). It’s a festival that brings India together, brings hope that light will vanquish the spiritual darkness and that good will triumph over evil. Diwali also marks the end of the harvest season in most of India. It also marks the beginning of the Hindu New Year in North and some parts of Western India. Diwali helps to unite cultures, customs and religions in the flow of its celebrations. No wonder President Obama lit a lamp in the White House. The celebrations start from the day of Dhanteras and extends till the final day of Bhai dooj.
Strangely Diwali also brings back fond memories from my childhood. As soon as the half yearly examinations were over, our school would remain closed for almost 12-15 days. Teachers would give little homework and on the last day of school, we could experience little sadness for missing school and friends. But all this would be short lived.
The school vacations always coincided with mother’s holidays. That meant sheer joy - spending time at home instead in a crèche. Mother would spend her mornings correcting the examination papers from her school and afternoons will be lined up with plenty of chores. She will ensure that we helped her clean our cupboards, drawers and the house and later decorate it for Diwali. In the evenings we would visit shops near the Aarey Road or M.G. Road, and get spices, cereals, masalas, dry fruits and other ingredients required for preparing the delectable Diwali snacks (faral). Along with this, she would buy colourful Rangoli powder.
The mornings would be spent on the play ground, and the afternoons reading or sleeping. A visit to local flour mill was quite enjoyable. It provided necessary lessons in operations research and theory of machines. The big machine would finely grind the various grains and cereals. The small spindle would start rotating and the belt would keep running producing wonderful music. After some time, the machine operator cum proprietor would hit the machine with a small nut or hammer so as to ensure the finely grinded flour seamlessly trickles in the container below. The clinking iof metal would produce a wonderful melody. This was the time when the flour mills would do flourishing business. The Steel tins (dabba) would be covered by flour from all sides. Every dabba would contain 5- 6 kg of various flour mixes of various cereals and grains. Soon this flour would be used to prepare dough that later turned into delectable "chaklis", "karanji", "shankarpali", other sweets and namkeen items. Closer to Diwali, mom would take huge quantity of dry Poha in a big kaddai (vessel) and fry in little oil. In it she will generously add peanuts, chillies, raisins, cashew and garnish with coriander seeds, jeera, turmeric, masala, salt and a tasty chivda is ready to munch anytime.
A week before Diwali, it was time for shopping. It was fun to walk through the crowded station road, watching all those well decorated shops selling fancy items. Almost every shop boasted with signs promoting hefty discount and bumper sale. The shops were well lit and every where people had big smile on their faces. Somehow the crowd never diminished near the Azad Shopping Center – perhaps the biggest mall in Goregaon west then. The Dawood showroom on the ground floor displayed new designs of shoes and sandals that would shine sparkle and smile at you from the glass shelf. The nearby Bata show room had its salesmen standing on the street and eagerly beckon you inside their showroom. I think, Siddhartha was the only authorized shop selling Raymonds and Vimal brand of fabric. Bandra - Linking Road, Aarsa and Nadco shopping center at Andheri and Fashion Street at Churchgate were still unheard of.
The best part of the shopping was buying different kinds of crackers and fire works. No matter how many crackers we bought, as children we always remain insatiated. A new pair of shoes, gifts and new set of clothes to be worn on auspicious Diwali days were almost mandatory. Women’s shopping was always painful and my sister never seemed to like the colour or the design of dresses which my mom chose. Mom would rarely shop for herself but whenever she did, it was a boring. A visit to a saree shop taught us lessons in patience but in hindsight she seems to be much quicker, decisive and guess even more prudent in shopping than my wife. Dad would hardly indulge in shopping but on our insistence would reluctantly buy some shirt and dress material for trousers. Finally shopping was over and I suspect major part of our parent’s salary must have been blown by this time.
It was now time to make a small beautiful lantern (Akaash-Kandil). Mom and I would visit the nearby stationary shops and get some small bamboo sticks, colour papers, strings and glue. At a time when fevicol and joker gum were un-invented, rather un-imagined, the glue would be prepared at home made up of wheat or rice paste. Every afternoon, Mom will teach me how to prepare an akaash – Kandil. This continued for many years and every year there will be new design. Sometimes we even used thermocol and prepared lanterns. Ironically, today the same lanterns are purchased by us at hefty price. Meanwhile, the bamboos would be neatly cut and tied in a diamond shape on the sides. It would be firmly supported from the top and the bottom. Later the colour papers were neatly cut and glued covering the hollow bamboo square shapes. Long paper stripes would be attached as tails. After two days, the lamp would be dangling royally in our balcony. A small electric bulb would bring life to it and radiate the various colours. The light from this lantern would act as a spotlight on the rangoli below. In those days every building in the colony would display some large, beautiful designed and often star shaped lanterns.
Celebrations
On the first day of Diwali, we would wake up early around 4: 30 a.m. Before our bath, we would apply scented oil and utaney or ubtan (herbal scented paste using besan, oil, milk and some herbal paste). I reckon Moti soaps would have flourishing sales during Diwali. Immediately after our bath we would wear new clothes and rush down to lit fire crackers. In our building a small competition ensued, as to who will burst the first fire cracker (preferably atom bomb) early in the morning. Those days ‘captain’ brand bombs or a sutli (green threaded) bomb produced massive noise that woke up everyone in the colony. A chap named Sanjeev whom we affectionately called Pappu regularly won this competition except once. That year I burst a bomb even before having my bath somewhere around 4:20 a.m. Well, I don’t remember Sanjeev waking up early the rest of the year or was it the other way round!
Later in the day, we would perform a small pooja at home and then we would be ready to gormandise on Diwali faral (delicacies) consisting of delectable sweets such as "karanji", "ladoo" made from Besan and Rawa, "shankarpali" and “barfi”, "mithai" as well as some spicy eatables like "Chakli", "Shev" and "Chivda". In addition there will be plenty of dry fruits.
A visit to the famous Ayyappa Temple at Bangur Nagar and Ambe Mata Mandir near Aarey Road was always on the card. Later we would carry some faral and distribute it amongst our relatives and neighbours. They also reciprocated generously. Fortunately or unfortunately there is no tradition of gambling amongst Maharashtrians albeit some of them are now actively participating in stock markets! In the evenings, mom and sister would draw colourful rangoli design. Everybody would flaunt their new clothes. The dark night soon gets illuminated by hundreds of lamps, lanterns and crackers are bursted non stop.
Five Day Festival
A lunar half-month is 15 days. Diwali as a new-moon day marks the last day of a 15-day period. The celebration starts after worshipping Lord Ganesha. As against other parts of the country, Diwali is a three day festival in Bengal, with the first two days being of utmost importance.
In Maharashtra, Diwali starts from Vasubaras which is the 12th day of the 2nd half of the month of Ashwin. In rural areas, this day is celebrated by performing an Aarti of the cow and its calf- which is a symbol of love between mother and her baby. In the rest of the country, Diwali starts from Dhanatrayodashi or Dhanteras. Dhan means "wealth" and Teras means "13th day". Thus, as the name implies, this day falls on the 13th day of the second half of the lunar month. It is an auspicious day for shopping of gold & Silver Ornaments, Idols & Coins and God yantras. Some Maharastrians families would worship cash, jewellery and an idol of the Goddess Laxmi.
Naraka Chaturdasi or Choti Diwali: Chaturdasi is the fourteenth day on which demon Narakasura was killed. It signifies the victory of good over evil and light over darkness.
Laxmi- poojan or Diwali comes on the third day. It occurs on Amavasya i.e. no moon day. Laxmi, the Goddess of wealth and prosperity is welcomed by offering traditional pujas. The business community places their new accounting books in front of the Laxmi deity and offers puja for the well being of the business. In the evening, the Bombay stock exchange performs a token bidding called Muhurat trading and for the past few years this event is beamed across through various TV channels. Generally the traders would buy stock for their kids or grandchildren as security and would not sell it. These traders do not make any payments on that day (according to their belief Laxmi should not be given away but must come home). In every household, cash, jewellery and an idol of the goddess Laxmi is worshipped.
The fourth day is known as ‘Padwa', ‘Bali Pratipada’ or ‘Govardhan Puja’ and it falls on the 1st day of the new month – Kartik, in the Hindu calendar. It is celebrated as the first day of the Vikram Samvat calendar, in Gujarat. In Maharashtra, Tamil Nadu and Karnataka, it is celebrated as Bali-Pratipada or Bali Padyami. The day commemorates the victory of Vishnu in his dwarf form Vamana over demon-king Bali, who was pushed to the nether world and the return of Bali to earth from the nether-world. In Maharashtra, it is called as Padava or Nava Diwas ("new day"). Wives would perform Aarti and men in turn would present gifts to their wives on this day. In North India, it is celebrated as Govardhan puja, also called Annakut, and is celebrated as the day Lord Krishna defeated God Indra by lifting the Govardhana hill to save his kinsmen and cattle from rain and floods.
The fifth day known as Bhaubeej or Bhai dooj is the time where the bond of love between a brother and sister is further strengthened. The sisters offer prayers for the general well being of their brothers. Gifts are exchanged expressing brotherly feelings of love and affection.
Significance
Diwali is not just celebrated by the Hindus but also by Sikhs, Jains and Buddhists. It has different reasons of significance for all these communities. In Hinduism there are various reasons for its celebrations. In north, Lord Ram comes home to Ayodhya emerging victorious from Lanka. Down south, the demon Naraka Asura is vanquished by Lord Krishna. Meanwhile in west, Lord Vishnu buries Bali under the earth and in East; an enraged Goddess Kali beheads the demons. In Jainism, Diwali marks the attainment of Nirvana by Lord Mahavira. In Sikhism, the festival of Diwali is significant in accordance with the illumination of the city of Amritsar, on the homecoming of Guru Har Gobindji. Guru Har Gobindji, along with many Hindu gurus were imprisoned by the Mughal Emperor Jahangir. After he got free from the prison, he went to the golden temple in Amritsar. The entire city of Amritsar is lit with lamps. The festival of Diwali is also celebrated by some sections of Buddhists.
Well technology and times have changed and so have the styles of celebration. But the fervor and enthusiasm hasn’t diminished at all. Undoubtedly there are different reasons for cheer but indeed a cracker of festival! …
Here’s wishing all a Very Happy, Sparkling and Safe Diwali!
Strangely Diwali also brings back fond memories from my childhood. As soon as the half yearly examinations were over, our school would remain closed for almost 12-15 days. Teachers would give little homework and on the last day of school, we could experience little sadness for missing school and friends. But all this would be short lived.
The school vacations always coincided with mother’s holidays. That meant sheer joy - spending time at home instead in a crèche. Mother would spend her mornings correcting the examination papers from her school and afternoons will be lined up with plenty of chores. She will ensure that we helped her clean our cupboards, drawers and the house and later decorate it for Diwali. In the evenings we would visit shops near the Aarey Road or M.G. Road, and get spices, cereals, masalas, dry fruits and other ingredients required for preparing the delectable Diwali snacks (faral). Along with this, she would buy colourful Rangoli powder.
The mornings would be spent on the play ground, and the afternoons reading or sleeping. A visit to local flour mill was quite enjoyable. It provided necessary lessons in operations research and theory of machines. The big machine would finely grind the various grains and cereals. The small spindle would start rotating and the belt would keep running producing wonderful music. After some time, the machine operator cum proprietor would hit the machine with a small nut or hammer so as to ensure the finely grinded flour seamlessly trickles in the container below. The clinking iof metal would produce a wonderful melody. This was the time when the flour mills would do flourishing business. The Steel tins (dabba) would be covered by flour from all sides. Every dabba would contain 5- 6 kg of various flour mixes of various cereals and grains. Soon this flour would be used to prepare dough that later turned into delectable "chaklis", "karanji", "shankarpali", other sweets and namkeen items. Closer to Diwali, mom would take huge quantity of dry Poha in a big kaddai (vessel) and fry in little oil. In it she will generously add peanuts, chillies, raisins, cashew and garnish with coriander seeds, jeera, turmeric, masala, salt and a tasty chivda is ready to munch anytime.
A week before Diwali, it was time for shopping. It was fun to walk through the crowded station road, watching all those well decorated shops selling fancy items. Almost every shop boasted with signs promoting hefty discount and bumper sale. The shops were well lit and every where people had big smile on their faces. Somehow the crowd never diminished near the Azad Shopping Center – perhaps the biggest mall in Goregaon west then. The Dawood showroom on the ground floor displayed new designs of shoes and sandals that would shine sparkle and smile at you from the glass shelf. The nearby Bata show room had its salesmen standing on the street and eagerly beckon you inside their showroom. I think, Siddhartha was the only authorized shop selling Raymonds and Vimal brand of fabric. Bandra - Linking Road, Aarsa and Nadco shopping center at Andheri and Fashion Street at Churchgate were still unheard of.
The best part of the shopping was buying different kinds of crackers and fire works. No matter how many crackers we bought, as children we always remain insatiated. A new pair of shoes, gifts and new set of clothes to be worn on auspicious Diwali days were almost mandatory. Women’s shopping was always painful and my sister never seemed to like the colour or the design of dresses which my mom chose. Mom would rarely shop for herself but whenever she did, it was a boring. A visit to a saree shop taught us lessons in patience but in hindsight she seems to be much quicker, decisive and guess even more prudent in shopping than my wife. Dad would hardly indulge in shopping but on our insistence would reluctantly buy some shirt and dress material for trousers. Finally shopping was over and I suspect major part of our parent’s salary must have been blown by this time.
It was now time to make a small beautiful lantern (Akaash-Kandil). Mom and I would visit the nearby stationary shops and get some small bamboo sticks, colour papers, strings and glue. At a time when fevicol and joker gum were un-invented, rather un-imagined, the glue would be prepared at home made up of wheat or rice paste. Every afternoon, Mom will teach me how to prepare an akaash – Kandil. This continued for many years and every year there will be new design. Sometimes we even used thermocol and prepared lanterns. Ironically, today the same lanterns are purchased by us at hefty price. Meanwhile, the bamboos would be neatly cut and tied in a diamond shape on the sides. It would be firmly supported from the top and the bottom. Later the colour papers were neatly cut and glued covering the hollow bamboo square shapes. Long paper stripes would be attached as tails. After two days, the lamp would be dangling royally in our balcony. A small electric bulb would bring life to it and radiate the various colours. The light from this lantern would act as a spotlight on the rangoli below. In those days every building in the colony would display some large, beautiful designed and often star shaped lanterns.
Celebrations
On the first day of Diwali, we would wake up early around 4: 30 a.m. Before our bath, we would apply scented oil and utaney or ubtan (herbal scented paste using besan, oil, milk and some herbal paste). I reckon Moti soaps would have flourishing sales during Diwali. Immediately after our bath we would wear new clothes and rush down to lit fire crackers. In our building a small competition ensued, as to who will burst the first fire cracker (preferably atom bomb) early in the morning. Those days ‘captain’ brand bombs or a sutli (green threaded) bomb produced massive noise that woke up everyone in the colony. A chap named Sanjeev whom we affectionately called Pappu regularly won this competition except once. That year I burst a bomb even before having my bath somewhere around 4:20 a.m. Well, I don’t remember Sanjeev waking up early the rest of the year or was it the other way round!
Later in the day, we would perform a small pooja at home and then we would be ready to gormandise on Diwali faral (delicacies) consisting of delectable sweets such as "karanji", "ladoo" made from Besan and Rawa, "shankarpali" and “barfi”, "mithai" as well as some spicy eatables like "Chakli", "Shev" and "Chivda". In addition there will be plenty of dry fruits.
A visit to the famous Ayyappa Temple at Bangur Nagar and Ambe Mata Mandir near Aarey Road was always on the card. Later we would carry some faral and distribute it amongst our relatives and neighbours. They also reciprocated generously. Fortunately or unfortunately there is no tradition of gambling amongst Maharashtrians albeit some of them are now actively participating in stock markets! In the evenings, mom and sister would draw colourful rangoli design. Everybody would flaunt their new clothes. The dark night soon gets illuminated by hundreds of lamps, lanterns and crackers are bursted non stop.
Five Day Festival
A lunar half-month is 15 days. Diwali as a new-moon day marks the last day of a 15-day period. The celebration starts after worshipping Lord Ganesha. As against other parts of the country, Diwali is a three day festival in Bengal, with the first two days being of utmost importance.
In Maharashtra, Diwali starts from Vasubaras which is the 12th day of the 2nd half of the month of Ashwin. In rural areas, this day is celebrated by performing an Aarti of the cow and its calf- which is a symbol of love between mother and her baby. In the rest of the country, Diwali starts from Dhanatrayodashi or Dhanteras. Dhan means "wealth" and Teras means "13th day". Thus, as the name implies, this day falls on the 13th day of the second half of the lunar month. It is an auspicious day for shopping of gold & Silver Ornaments, Idols & Coins and God yantras. Some Maharastrians families would worship cash, jewellery and an idol of the Goddess Laxmi.
Naraka Chaturdasi or Choti Diwali: Chaturdasi is the fourteenth day on which demon Narakasura was killed. It signifies the victory of good over evil and light over darkness.
Laxmi- poojan or Diwali comes on the third day. It occurs on Amavasya i.e. no moon day. Laxmi, the Goddess of wealth and prosperity is welcomed by offering traditional pujas. The business community places their new accounting books in front of the Laxmi deity and offers puja for the well being of the business. In the evening, the Bombay stock exchange performs a token bidding called Muhurat trading and for the past few years this event is beamed across through various TV channels. Generally the traders would buy stock for their kids or grandchildren as security and would not sell it. These traders do not make any payments on that day (according to their belief Laxmi should not be given away but must come home). In every household, cash, jewellery and an idol of the goddess Laxmi is worshipped.
The fourth day is known as ‘Padwa', ‘Bali Pratipada’ or ‘Govardhan Puja’ and it falls on the 1st day of the new month – Kartik, in the Hindu calendar. It is celebrated as the first day of the Vikram Samvat calendar, in Gujarat. In Maharashtra, Tamil Nadu and Karnataka, it is celebrated as Bali-Pratipada or Bali Padyami. The day commemorates the victory of Vishnu in his dwarf form Vamana over demon-king Bali, who was pushed to the nether world and the return of Bali to earth from the nether-world. In Maharashtra, it is called as Padava or Nava Diwas ("new day"). Wives would perform Aarti and men in turn would present gifts to their wives on this day. In North India, it is celebrated as Govardhan puja, also called Annakut, and is celebrated as the day Lord Krishna defeated God Indra by lifting the Govardhana hill to save his kinsmen and cattle from rain and floods.
The fifth day known as Bhaubeej or Bhai dooj is the time where the bond of love between a brother and sister is further strengthened. The sisters offer prayers for the general well being of their brothers. Gifts are exchanged expressing brotherly feelings of love and affection.
Significance
Diwali is not just celebrated by the Hindus but also by Sikhs, Jains and Buddhists. It has different reasons of significance for all these communities. In Hinduism there are various reasons for its celebrations. In north, Lord Ram comes home to Ayodhya emerging victorious from Lanka. Down south, the demon Naraka Asura is vanquished by Lord Krishna. Meanwhile in west, Lord Vishnu buries Bali under the earth and in East; an enraged Goddess Kali beheads the demons. In Jainism, Diwali marks the attainment of Nirvana by Lord Mahavira. In Sikhism, the festival of Diwali is significant in accordance with the illumination of the city of Amritsar, on the homecoming of Guru Har Gobindji. Guru Har Gobindji, along with many Hindu gurus were imprisoned by the Mughal Emperor Jahangir. After he got free from the prison, he went to the golden temple in Amritsar. The entire city of Amritsar is lit with lamps. The festival of Diwali is also celebrated by some sections of Buddhists.
Well technology and times have changed and so have the styles of celebration. But the fervor and enthusiasm hasn’t diminished at all. Undoubtedly there are different reasons for cheer but indeed a cracker of festival! …
Here’s wishing all a Very Happy, Sparkling and Safe Diwali!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Democracy, Elections, and the Power of a Single Vote!
Since 2004, low voter turnout in India and especially in city like Mumbai has become a norm. And yet, when it comes to comparison between the previous poll results and the current exit poll results, these dismal attendances do not seem to display any significant bearing. Isn’t that little strange?
Is it because of the new de-limitation, or because of the rise in regional parties or simply due to political apathy that results in poor voter turnout?
Delimitation has shrunk the constituencies and over the years even the quality of our political class has deteriorated. Barring few, none of our leaders personify the qualities of visionaries and colossal leaders like Gandhi, Nehru, Tilak and Patel just to name a few. Although our population hasn’t shrunk, nor the number of voters but people who actually turn up for voting have definitely reduced. And this is evident from the recently held Lok Sabha and the state assembly elections in Maharashtra.
Maharashtra, known for its rich social, cultural, sports and economical contribution with several national leaders, industries, educational and research institutions, flourishing textile mills, educated people, multiple communities and religions and indeed an inclusive, progressive state has considerably deteriorated. Regular load shedding, farmer suicides, rampant corruption, poor infrastructure, increasing slums, inadequate water supply, illegal and unauthorized constructions, rising unemployment, uncontrollable naxalism coupled with international terrorism and the mad clamor for political power has almost destroyed this once glorious state.
The state once boasted of educated leaders like Gokhale, Dadabhoy Naoroji, Ambedkar, Kriplani, Pherozshah Mehta, Dinshaw Wachha, Phule, Savarkar, Achutrao Patwardhan, P.K. Atre, S.M. Joshi, N G Gore, S.A. Dange, Prabhodhankar Thackeray, Y.B. Chauhan, Vasant Dada Patil, Madhu Dandavate, Datta Patil, Mrinal Gore etc who believed in having healthy discussions, debates and non-violent politics.
Today, politics has become a lucrative family business and electoral seats are exclusively offered to close family members regardless of their competencies and achievements. Little wonder, we get to witness several rebels and defections. The educated middle class and the poor find it increasingly difficult to contest in elections.
With less than 60% of voter turnout across the state, coupled with rebels and division of vote banks, the various exit poll results tend to belie the anti-incumbency factor. Invariably it speculates to bring back the earlier government by default. Psephologists and experts prognosticate a marginal difference between the ruling UPA & the opposition NDA and predict the possibility of a hung assembly. In such a situation, UPA and the NDA have no choice but to lure MNS, other parties and the independent candidates to support from outside or join the government. Moreover with several contenders among every party vying for the chief ministerial position and various ministerial berths, would it then come as a surprise to see the rise in defections once the poll results are announced.
The beauty of our democracy is that every election gives birth to new political parties, various alliances and fragile third / fourth fronts that promote new ideology, promise change and print new colourful manifestos selling the same old wine in a new bottle. Since 1995, hung parliament and assemblies have almost become a routine. And this is largely due to political, ideological and voter indifference.
Perhaps we should learn a lesson from Americans who battled for over 100 years, for their right to vote, but then seem to ignore it when they have received it. In India, we were lucky to get our right to vote immediately after independence but like Americans, we also continue to abstain from election. While American politicians strive hard to fulfill whatever they have promised during elections our politicians simply forget their promises made during polls.
Having said that, seldom do we also miss any opportunity to criticize the government and fight for our rights. No wonder voting is merely looked as a constitutional right but not considered as our moral responsibility and duty. Often lower voter turnout indicates a growing apathy for political parties and politicians. It often indicates the growing indifference, laziness, an unwillingness to deal with all this politics, which make people stay away from the polls. People are more concerned about their personal issues, problems that affect their lives; these become the top priorities and therefore don't give a damn about elections. These people would not even bother to learn about the candidates, nor about their parties and their election manifestos. Moreover people don’t find any trustworthy and competent candidates and therefore prefer to abstain from polls.
Apparently, voter absenteeism also suggest that the average Indian still does not understand the power of excercising their adult franchise. The most often heard excuse for not voting in an election is "a single vote won't make any difference." Yet History is replete with instances about the incredible power of single vote. In many cases, the course of nations has changed because of this single vote. If you think that your vote won't make a difference, please consider the following:
Remember it was one single vote of Saifuddin Soz that toppled the Vajpayee government in 1999. In 1645, one vote gave Oliver Cromwell control of England. In 1649, one vote literally cost King Charles I of England his head. The vote to behead him was 67 against and 68 for — the ax fell thanks to one vote. In 1714, one vote placed King George I on the throne of England and restored the monarchy. In 1844 in Indiana on Election Day, a farmer named Freeman Clark lay seriously ill in bed. He begged his sons to carry him to the county seat so he could vote for David Kelso to become a state senator. The old farmer Freeman Clark got to vote for Kelso but Freeman Clark died on his way back home. Kelso won the election by one vote of Freeman Clark. One vote granted Texas (1845) and California (1850) admission into US as a state. In 1875, a one vote margin changed France from a monarchy to a republic. In 1923, by a majority of one vote, they chose Adolph Hitler to become the NAZI Party leader. In the 1960 presidential election, it was one single vote per precincts that made John F Kennedy the President of USA.
If a single vote can make such a difference, do you feel we must make voting mandatory just like they have it in Australia?
Well, this requires some serious discussions and changes in our law. As per election rules, Section “49-O" provides an opportunity to every voter to abstain from election. In such case a person must go to the polling booth, confirm his identity, get his finger marked and convey the presiding election officer that he doesn't want to vote anyone! Unfortunately there is no provision for counting such votes and protecting identities.
Come to think of, we simply cannot afford to sit back and blame the politicians, parties and the system. In time to come we might see few reforms in election rules, but until then, its time we take responsibility and vote in various elections at every level - national, state, district and local and believe in the power of our single vote!
Is it because of the new de-limitation, or because of the rise in regional parties or simply due to political apathy that results in poor voter turnout?
Delimitation has shrunk the constituencies and over the years even the quality of our political class has deteriorated. Barring few, none of our leaders personify the qualities of visionaries and colossal leaders like Gandhi, Nehru, Tilak and Patel just to name a few. Although our population hasn’t shrunk, nor the number of voters but people who actually turn up for voting have definitely reduced. And this is evident from the recently held Lok Sabha and the state assembly elections in Maharashtra.
Maharashtra, known for its rich social, cultural, sports and economical contribution with several national leaders, industries, educational and research institutions, flourishing textile mills, educated people, multiple communities and religions and indeed an inclusive, progressive state has considerably deteriorated. Regular load shedding, farmer suicides, rampant corruption, poor infrastructure, increasing slums, inadequate water supply, illegal and unauthorized constructions, rising unemployment, uncontrollable naxalism coupled with international terrorism and the mad clamor for political power has almost destroyed this once glorious state.
The state once boasted of educated leaders like Gokhale, Dadabhoy Naoroji, Ambedkar, Kriplani, Pherozshah Mehta, Dinshaw Wachha, Phule, Savarkar, Achutrao Patwardhan, P.K. Atre, S.M. Joshi, N G Gore, S.A. Dange, Prabhodhankar Thackeray, Y.B. Chauhan, Vasant Dada Patil, Madhu Dandavate, Datta Patil, Mrinal Gore etc who believed in having healthy discussions, debates and non-violent politics.
Today, politics has become a lucrative family business and electoral seats are exclusively offered to close family members regardless of their competencies and achievements. Little wonder, we get to witness several rebels and defections. The educated middle class and the poor find it increasingly difficult to contest in elections.
With less than 60% of voter turnout across the state, coupled with rebels and division of vote banks, the various exit poll results tend to belie the anti-incumbency factor. Invariably it speculates to bring back the earlier government by default. Psephologists and experts prognosticate a marginal difference between the ruling UPA & the opposition NDA and predict the possibility of a hung assembly. In such a situation, UPA and the NDA have no choice but to lure MNS, other parties and the independent candidates to support from outside or join the government. Moreover with several contenders among every party vying for the chief ministerial position and various ministerial berths, would it then come as a surprise to see the rise in defections once the poll results are announced.
The beauty of our democracy is that every election gives birth to new political parties, various alliances and fragile third / fourth fronts that promote new ideology, promise change and print new colourful manifestos selling the same old wine in a new bottle. Since 1995, hung parliament and assemblies have almost become a routine. And this is largely due to political, ideological and voter indifference.
Perhaps we should learn a lesson from Americans who battled for over 100 years, for their right to vote, but then seem to ignore it when they have received it. In India, we were lucky to get our right to vote immediately after independence but like Americans, we also continue to abstain from election. While American politicians strive hard to fulfill whatever they have promised during elections our politicians simply forget their promises made during polls.
Having said that, seldom do we also miss any opportunity to criticize the government and fight for our rights. No wonder voting is merely looked as a constitutional right but not considered as our moral responsibility and duty. Often lower voter turnout indicates a growing apathy for political parties and politicians. It often indicates the growing indifference, laziness, an unwillingness to deal with all this politics, which make people stay away from the polls. People are more concerned about their personal issues, problems that affect their lives; these become the top priorities and therefore don't give a damn about elections. These people would not even bother to learn about the candidates, nor about their parties and their election manifestos. Moreover people don’t find any trustworthy and competent candidates and therefore prefer to abstain from polls.
Apparently, voter absenteeism also suggest that the average Indian still does not understand the power of excercising their adult franchise. The most often heard excuse for not voting in an election is "a single vote won't make any difference." Yet History is replete with instances about the incredible power of single vote. In many cases, the course of nations has changed because of this single vote. If you think that your vote won't make a difference, please consider the following:
Remember it was one single vote of Saifuddin Soz that toppled the Vajpayee government in 1999. In 1645, one vote gave Oliver Cromwell control of England. In 1649, one vote literally cost King Charles I of England his head. The vote to behead him was 67 against and 68 for — the ax fell thanks to one vote. In 1714, one vote placed King George I on the throne of England and restored the monarchy. In 1844 in Indiana on Election Day, a farmer named Freeman Clark lay seriously ill in bed. He begged his sons to carry him to the county seat so he could vote for David Kelso to become a state senator. The old farmer Freeman Clark got to vote for Kelso but Freeman Clark died on his way back home. Kelso won the election by one vote of Freeman Clark. One vote granted Texas (1845) and California (1850) admission into US as a state. In 1875, a one vote margin changed France from a monarchy to a republic. In 1923, by a majority of one vote, they chose Adolph Hitler to become the NAZI Party leader. In the 1960 presidential election, it was one single vote per precincts that made John F Kennedy the President of USA.
If a single vote can make such a difference, do you feel we must make voting mandatory just like they have it in Australia?
Well, this requires some serious discussions and changes in our law. As per election rules, Section “49-O" provides an opportunity to every voter to abstain from election. In such case a person must go to the polling booth, confirm his identity, get his finger marked and convey the presiding election officer that he doesn't want to vote anyone! Unfortunately there is no provision for counting such votes and protecting identities.
Come to think of, we simply cannot afford to sit back and blame the politicians, parties and the system. In time to come we might see few reforms in election rules, but until then, its time we take responsibility and vote in various elections at every level - national, state, district and local and believe in the power of our single vote!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
A Walk Through Wilderness !
A hill station is a perfect place to unwind as it provides ample solace, quietude and takes you closer to nature. Out there, the stars appear closer and the moon remains happily perched over your shoulders. Dawn breaks and somewhere in the hills, an orange ball begins to rise. Imagine walking slowly on a beaten track over the slopes, covered with shrubs and dried leaves. The whistling wind clears your path, blows little spec of dust on your shoes and the dead leaves whisper loudly. Thick yellow rays pass through the branches and lit your path. In the next moment, the sun plays hide and seek with the trees.
You slowly wade through the misty clouds, serene, salubrious weather, and pollution free atmosphere. Almost every hill station boasts of quaint shops, gabled houses embellished with wooden decors and brightly coloured sloping roofs with dish antennas. Once in a while you come across charming facades, immaculately painted picket fences surrounding dark colonial stone structures overlooking courtyards, neat little orchards with cleverly laid driveway made from broken bricks, pebbles and gravel.
You stroll further and end up at a turn that offers a breathtaking view. The joy of watching the ground below and the splendid panorama in front is simply unbelievable. You feel rejuvenated and for a moment forget the regular grind of drudged city life. Every object in distance appears smaller and several waterfalls become visible. Somewhere near the horizon, you see a shinning river becoming wider, zigzagging across valleys and intersecting the lush green plains. Suddenly the plains look more attractive and alluring.
People often share their experiences of visiting various hill stations but seldom do we enjoy the beauty of foothills and the nearby plains.
Last week it was fun traveling everyday between Chandigarh and Himachal Pradesh. Little did I realize that the place where I was headed to would be so picturesque!
Watching the resplendent blue -green Shivalik hills from Baddi situated in the Solon district of Himachal Pradesh was an amazing experience. Almost every pharmaceutical company whether large or small have built a factory here. With tax incentives schemes and plethora of benefits offered to investors this place seems to be cropping up with reputed Indian and foreign FMCG companies.
I was lucky to spend my time in a place called HIMUDA Educational hub, Barotiwala (20 minutes away from Baddi) located at the foothills of Kasauli hill station. This place promises to become educational hub in Himachal Pradesh with several prominent Universities coming up in the area. It already has Chitkara University, one of the leading educational institutions in North India. With state of the art infrastructure and over 700 students pursuing various courses in engineering, general studies and management, the entire area seems to be a perfect place for emerging and growing companies in HP, Punjab, Haryana and Delhi to attract talent.
The 90 minutes drive from Chandigarh takes you through Haryana via Panchkula and the famous Mogul gardens in Pinjore. The road is surrounded by lush green meadows, maize and wheat fields. The vehicle stops and with it also the clock, making way for the cattle to majestically cross the street. You can see the hand pumps fixed near the plastered brick water tanks. You see men toiling in the fields behind, women carrying water and children sometimes waving and running on the street. Small garages and shops on the road display various wares. The biggest shop in every village is liquor and wine theka (shop) and these shops are well decorated. There are separate shops for country (Tharra – local brew) and Angreji (foreign or branded) liquor. There are tiny Dhaba’s (food joint) with enviable parking space.
Throughout the journey, you see magnificent contours of Shivalik hills, HMT colony and various villages. Several brick kilns greet you as soon as you enter Boratiwala. The tall chimneys remind you of Qutab Minar. Every chimney indicates the religion of the owner as it displays Hindu and Sikh religious symbols with pride. I was glad to find the end product i.e. the bricks similar. The place is abuzz with excavation and construction activities.
The Shivalik hills are also known as sub- Himalayas or foothills and are created due to the rise in Himalayas. The hills run from southwest Kashmir, to North India, into North East in Sikkim and finally end up in Southern Nepal. Their altitude varies between 900 to 2300 meters. These hills are the source of the rivers like Saraswati, Ghaggar, Tangri and Markanda. The hills cover some parts of Haryana viz; Panchkula, Ambala and Yamunanagar districts. The hills consist of layered rocks with beautiful Chir pine, Sal and oak forests. The entire topography has a shallow erodable soil; unsuitable for agriculture however irrigation makes it easier to cultivate paddy.
Lord Indra was extremely benevolent last week. It rained heavily, the hills were no longer visible and a thick fog engulfed everything. After 3 days of incessant rains, the sun came back from its Hammam break (Turkish bath). The meadows glossed in greenery reminding you of golf courses in Ireland. Somewhere up on the ridges, a lone white cloud happily tangoed with the wind. The atmosphere suddenly changed and everything looked pristine.
From the foothills you could clearly see the famous tall imposing Television Tower at Kasauli (6400 feet) and further up, a faint silhouette of the ropeway cable became visible. The rains made the houses in Kasauli look fresh, white washed and inviting. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to identify the famous Lawrence school at Kasauli or perhaps it lies on the other side of the hill.
Kasauli was hardly 35-40 kms away from my work place. From the foothills, it is easier to gauge that Kasauli promises to offer unspoilt natural beauty, lots of options for nature trails, and a refreshing climate. Kasauli is a good detour between Shimla and Kalka, and is often called lesser Shimla. My driver tells me that tourist generally prefer the bustling Shimla which is 3 hours away over this sleepy hill station but Kasauli is fast becoming one of the favorite weekend getaway.
Late afternoon, a leisurely walk around the foothills takes you through stunning flora and fauna. Don’t be surprised if a weird thought of discovering a shortest route to Kasauli crosses your mind. You enter the woods. The birds are mellifluously singing. You come across a dry river bed, and walk in the direction of the hills. Few moments later you begin to enjoy the sound of silence. A cool breeze caresses your face and your hair gently jives in rhythm. The pine–scent gets thicker and everything around you appears brown, dark brown, green and dark green.
You discover a small stream rapidly moving towards the river bed. The clear water forcefully hits the stones, producing greater turbulence and a wonderful symphony. Like a child, you are tempted to pick up the colorful pebbles lying around. Soon you stumble upon an area mushrooming with small weeds, shrubs, plants, wild flowers and carefully avoid trampling it.
The river bends and a ravine begins to unfold. You muster some courage and enter this ravine. Near the sloping edges, you could distinctly see several dusty paths in various directions. Robert Frost’s famous poem “The Road Not Taken” begins to play in your mind.
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;…”
Suddenly you hear a voice followed with a loud echo. Someone from the group reminds you, “The sun is about to set.” The twilight hue makes the sky dusky, brownish –orange, scattered with light blue pigments. The chirping gets louder and flocks of bird head towards the hills. You halt.
Next moment, you turn around, look in the direction of ravine, your eyes move faster following one of the beaten tracks that quickly disappears in the woods and hopefully leads atop. Slowly and reluctantly you return to the familiar construction site where a car is waiting to take you on that dreadful highway to Chandigarh. The car gathers some speed and the hills move further and further away. It gets dark, the lullaby wind blows, and you quickly fall asleep only to wake up with a sudden jolt. You again shut your eyes; smile because next morning, the Shivaliks would again beckon you.
The road from Chandigarh to Baddi goes through Panchkula, Pinjore and extensively cuts across the state of Haryana. The entire stretch is full of potholes, ditches and craters bigger than those found on the moon. Don’t be surprised if you experience therapeutic manipulations in the car.
Everyday almost hundreds of vehicles ply on this road and yet no one seems to be bothered to repair the road. This is the shortest road to the industrial belt in HP. According to locals, Haryana government does not receive any economic benefit and therefore is least interested to mend this road. I don’t think the locals would object if Haryana government levies and collects toll to maintain the road.
Having said that, the road from Kalka is long and little better. Let’s hopes this road and the spectacular topography of the plains do not detiorate quickly! … But then don’t all economic development, construction, towns and cities sprung and flourish near the foothills!...
You slowly wade through the misty clouds, serene, salubrious weather, and pollution free atmosphere. Almost every hill station boasts of quaint shops, gabled houses embellished with wooden decors and brightly coloured sloping roofs with dish antennas. Once in a while you come across charming facades, immaculately painted picket fences surrounding dark colonial stone structures overlooking courtyards, neat little orchards with cleverly laid driveway made from broken bricks, pebbles and gravel.
You stroll further and end up at a turn that offers a breathtaking view. The joy of watching the ground below and the splendid panorama in front is simply unbelievable. You feel rejuvenated and for a moment forget the regular grind of drudged city life. Every object in distance appears smaller and several waterfalls become visible. Somewhere near the horizon, you see a shinning river becoming wider, zigzagging across valleys and intersecting the lush green plains. Suddenly the plains look more attractive and alluring.
People often share their experiences of visiting various hill stations but seldom do we enjoy the beauty of foothills and the nearby plains.
Last week it was fun traveling everyday between Chandigarh and Himachal Pradesh. Little did I realize that the place where I was headed to would be so picturesque!
Watching the resplendent blue -green Shivalik hills from Baddi situated in the Solon district of Himachal Pradesh was an amazing experience. Almost every pharmaceutical company whether large or small have built a factory here. With tax incentives schemes and plethora of benefits offered to investors this place seems to be cropping up with reputed Indian and foreign FMCG companies.
I was lucky to spend my time in a place called HIMUDA Educational hub, Barotiwala (20 minutes away from Baddi) located at the foothills of Kasauli hill station. This place promises to become educational hub in Himachal Pradesh with several prominent Universities coming up in the area. It already has Chitkara University, one of the leading educational institutions in North India. With state of the art infrastructure and over 700 students pursuing various courses in engineering, general studies and management, the entire area seems to be a perfect place for emerging and growing companies in HP, Punjab, Haryana and Delhi to attract talent.
The 90 minutes drive from Chandigarh takes you through Haryana via Panchkula and the famous Mogul gardens in Pinjore. The road is surrounded by lush green meadows, maize and wheat fields. The vehicle stops and with it also the clock, making way for the cattle to majestically cross the street. You can see the hand pumps fixed near the plastered brick water tanks. You see men toiling in the fields behind, women carrying water and children sometimes waving and running on the street. Small garages and shops on the road display various wares. The biggest shop in every village is liquor and wine theka (shop) and these shops are well decorated. There are separate shops for country (Tharra – local brew) and Angreji (foreign or branded) liquor. There are tiny Dhaba’s (food joint) with enviable parking space.
Throughout the journey, you see magnificent contours of Shivalik hills, HMT colony and various villages. Several brick kilns greet you as soon as you enter Boratiwala. The tall chimneys remind you of Qutab Minar. Every chimney indicates the religion of the owner as it displays Hindu and Sikh religious symbols with pride. I was glad to find the end product i.e. the bricks similar. The place is abuzz with excavation and construction activities.
The Shivalik hills are also known as sub- Himalayas or foothills and are created due to the rise in Himalayas. The hills run from southwest Kashmir, to North India, into North East in Sikkim and finally end up in Southern Nepal. Their altitude varies between 900 to 2300 meters. These hills are the source of the rivers like Saraswati, Ghaggar, Tangri and Markanda. The hills cover some parts of Haryana viz; Panchkula, Ambala and Yamunanagar districts. The hills consist of layered rocks with beautiful Chir pine, Sal and oak forests. The entire topography has a shallow erodable soil; unsuitable for agriculture however irrigation makes it easier to cultivate paddy.
Lord Indra was extremely benevolent last week. It rained heavily, the hills were no longer visible and a thick fog engulfed everything. After 3 days of incessant rains, the sun came back from its Hammam break (Turkish bath). The meadows glossed in greenery reminding you of golf courses in Ireland. Somewhere up on the ridges, a lone white cloud happily tangoed with the wind. The atmosphere suddenly changed and everything looked pristine.
From the foothills you could clearly see the famous tall imposing Television Tower at Kasauli (6400 feet) and further up, a faint silhouette of the ropeway cable became visible. The rains made the houses in Kasauli look fresh, white washed and inviting. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to identify the famous Lawrence school at Kasauli or perhaps it lies on the other side of the hill.
Kasauli was hardly 35-40 kms away from my work place. From the foothills, it is easier to gauge that Kasauli promises to offer unspoilt natural beauty, lots of options for nature trails, and a refreshing climate. Kasauli is a good detour between Shimla and Kalka, and is often called lesser Shimla. My driver tells me that tourist generally prefer the bustling Shimla which is 3 hours away over this sleepy hill station but Kasauli is fast becoming one of the favorite weekend getaway.
Late afternoon, a leisurely walk around the foothills takes you through stunning flora and fauna. Don’t be surprised if a weird thought of discovering a shortest route to Kasauli crosses your mind. You enter the woods. The birds are mellifluously singing. You come across a dry river bed, and walk in the direction of the hills. Few moments later you begin to enjoy the sound of silence. A cool breeze caresses your face and your hair gently jives in rhythm. The pine–scent gets thicker and everything around you appears brown, dark brown, green and dark green.
You discover a small stream rapidly moving towards the river bed. The clear water forcefully hits the stones, producing greater turbulence and a wonderful symphony. Like a child, you are tempted to pick up the colorful pebbles lying around. Soon you stumble upon an area mushrooming with small weeds, shrubs, plants, wild flowers and carefully avoid trampling it.
The river bends and a ravine begins to unfold. You muster some courage and enter this ravine. Near the sloping edges, you could distinctly see several dusty paths in various directions. Robert Frost’s famous poem “The Road Not Taken” begins to play in your mind.
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;…”
Suddenly you hear a voice followed with a loud echo. Someone from the group reminds you, “The sun is about to set.” The twilight hue makes the sky dusky, brownish –orange, scattered with light blue pigments. The chirping gets louder and flocks of bird head towards the hills. You halt.
Next moment, you turn around, look in the direction of ravine, your eyes move faster following one of the beaten tracks that quickly disappears in the woods and hopefully leads atop. Slowly and reluctantly you return to the familiar construction site where a car is waiting to take you on that dreadful highway to Chandigarh. The car gathers some speed and the hills move further and further away. It gets dark, the lullaby wind blows, and you quickly fall asleep only to wake up with a sudden jolt. You again shut your eyes; smile because next morning, the Shivaliks would again beckon you.
The road from Chandigarh to Baddi goes through Panchkula, Pinjore and extensively cuts across the state of Haryana. The entire stretch is full of potholes, ditches and craters bigger than those found on the moon. Don’t be surprised if you experience therapeutic manipulations in the car.
Everyday almost hundreds of vehicles ply on this road and yet no one seems to be bothered to repair the road. This is the shortest road to the industrial belt in HP. According to locals, Haryana government does not receive any economic benefit and therefore is least interested to mend this road. I don’t think the locals would object if Haryana government levies and collects toll to maintain the road.
Having said that, the road from Kalka is long and little better. Let’s hopes this road and the spectacular topography of the plains do not detiorate quickly! … But then don’t all economic development, construction, towns and cities sprung and flourish near the foothills!...
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Lord Ganesha – The Benevolent and Vighnahartha …
In the Hindu mythology, there are innumerable stories about various God and deities. However there is one Hindu God that is immensely popular across the world. No wonder this God is worshipped and loved by people of all ages and race. Wherever you travel, you will certainly come across shops selling photos, pendants, idols, wall hangings, and even decorative pieces of the Elephant God – Lord Ganesha or Ganpati. The combination of man and animal in the same form is also seen in the history of other countries as well.
Ganesh Chaturthi is one of the most popular of Hindu festivals. This is the birthday of Lord Ganesh and falls on the 4th day of the bright fortnight of Bhadrapad (somewhere falling around August - September).
Lord Ganesha represents the power of the Supreme Being is also known as Vighnaharta (the divine destroyer of obstacles) and ensures success in human endeavors. He is the chief deity of all the deities representing wisdom and intellect. Hindus therefore worship Ganesha first before beginning any religious, spiritual or worldly activity.
Ganesha is identified with the Hindu mantra Aum (ॐ, also called Om). The term oṃkārasvarūpa (Aum is his form), when identified with Ganesha, refers to the notion that he personifies the primal sound.
There are innumerable stories about Lord Ganesha and especially about his marriage. It is said that Lord Ganesha wanted his wife to be as beautiful as his Mother Parvati. Since there wasn’t anyone as beautiful as his mother, he decided to stay (celibate). So in South India, Ganesha is a celibate but in other parts of India they say Lord Brahma created two beautiful girls Riddhi (Abundance. Opulence, Wealth) and Siddhi (Spiritual Prowess) / Buddhi (Intelligence) and they were married to Lord Ganesha. In Bengal he is married to Kala Bo and linked with banana tree. It is said that if one has Riddhi but doesn’t have Siddhi / Buddhi then it is worthless. Possessing only Siddhi without Riddhi is also futile. Lord Ganesh bestows both these blessings to His ardent devotees.
If you look carefully at the Lord Ganesha, you will see a small mouse that act as his transport (Vahan), large ears, a big belly and four hands. If the trunk of 'Ganesha' is curved to the right, He is called 'Sidhi Vinayaka' and requires special and strict rituals to be followed during worship. Normally people get Ganesha idols with trunk curved to the left. Lord Ganesha sits with one foot on the ground and the other folded up, above the ground. This posture indicates that while we must operate in the world, one must be constantly aligned to our spiritual nature.
On Ganesh Chaturthi, Ganesh idol (made of special clay) is brought home. Chants of 'Ganpati Bappa Morya, Mangal Moorti Morya' rents in the air as the idols of Ganesha known as the 'Vignaharta' (remover of obstacles) slowly inches its way into the homes and hearts of his followers. These idols are kept for 1 ½ days, five days, 7 days, and 10 days and in some exceptional cases even for 21 days. During the days of India’s freedom struggle, Bal Gangadhar Tilak started public Ganesh pooja to bring people together and spread awareness about our freedom struggle.
Whether we witness green shoots or yellow weeds i.e. economic recovery or recession, nothing stops us from making more and more bigger idols and installing them in artistically decorated 'mandaps' ( large stage) across Mumbai, Pune and across the country. Thankfully people have started to get eco-friendly idols and observe eco friendly practices during immersion (Visarjan). Let’s hope in time to come we are able to eradicate the crass commercialization in Mumbai and allow free access to devotees to see the various beautiful idols.
Keeping the traffic congestion in mind, there are many who bring the idol a day before and next day devotees formally welcome the arrival of Ganesha and do the 'sthapana' (installation) of idols in sacred corners of their homes. Almost a fortnight before all preparations begins. Young and old assemble together and decide upon various contemporary themes and began decorating mandaps and even their homes. Family gatherings, entertainment programmes and meetings with people make this festival truly a cultural and social affair. Interestingly the old recordings of Lata Mangeshkar’s mellifluous rendition of Ganesh bhajan and songs are still enjoyable and are avidly played in various homes, radios, TV channels and in various housing complex and mandals
The best part always comes after the prayers and aarti (devotional songs) when the Lord's favourite 'Modak' (sweets) and ‘Laddoo’ are offered as Naivedya (Bhog or Prasad) is an offering to God. There are lots of fruits which are also offered and even used to decorate the place where the idol is installed. After the pooja is over people are served lunch on banana leaves.
It is difficult to resist delectable, mouth watering ‘Ukadiche Modak’ (Sweet stuffed rice flour dumpling - momos). You will find them in many Maharashtrian households. The pleated shape is called as-Modak shape!
The dough is given the shape after filling it with a stuffing that usually comprise of grated coconut mixed in sugar or jaggery with additives of spices like cardamom, clove, and roasted Khuskhus (poppy seeds), cashew nuts, salt etc.
A restaurant called Diva Maharashtra in Mumbai innovatively serves Khima Modak i.e. Modak stuffed with minced lamb and equally tasty Paneer Karanji.
Modak is very easy to make and the recipe is available on the net. Ask any women and she would claim that her mother’s recipe is the best. You can also enjoy deep fried Modaks- the external coating is prepared out of Maida (flour). In market you will come across shops largely selling modaks made from Khawa ( Mawa) and available with Kesar (Saffron) Modak, Chocolate Modak, Malai modak, Pista (Pistachio) Modak and so on..
The 'Shlok' or Prayer for Lord Ganesh:
Vakratund mahakaay suryakoti samaprabha
Nirvighnam Kurume deva sarvakaryeshu sarvadaa
Its English translation reads as: “O mighty God with a trunk, your brilliance is like that of a thousand suns; free my path of all obstacles in all auspicious works that I undertake.”..
May Lord Ganesha bless you and your dear ones with health, wealth, intelligence and clear away all the obstacles from the path....
Ganapati Bappa Morya!!...
Ganesh Chaturthi is one of the most popular of Hindu festivals. This is the birthday of Lord Ganesh and falls on the 4th day of the bright fortnight of Bhadrapad (somewhere falling around August - September).
Lord Ganesha represents the power of the Supreme Being is also known as Vighnaharta (the divine destroyer of obstacles) and ensures success in human endeavors. He is the chief deity of all the deities representing wisdom and intellect. Hindus therefore worship Ganesha first before beginning any religious, spiritual or worldly activity.
Ganesha is identified with the Hindu mantra Aum (ॐ, also called Om). The term oṃkārasvarūpa (Aum is his form), when identified with Ganesha, refers to the notion that he personifies the primal sound.
There are innumerable stories about Lord Ganesha and especially about his marriage. It is said that Lord Ganesha wanted his wife to be as beautiful as his Mother Parvati. Since there wasn’t anyone as beautiful as his mother, he decided to stay (celibate). So in South India, Ganesha is a celibate but in other parts of India they say Lord Brahma created two beautiful girls Riddhi (Abundance. Opulence, Wealth) and Siddhi (Spiritual Prowess) / Buddhi (Intelligence) and they were married to Lord Ganesha. In Bengal he is married to Kala Bo and linked with banana tree. It is said that if one has Riddhi but doesn’t have Siddhi / Buddhi then it is worthless. Possessing only Siddhi without Riddhi is also futile. Lord Ganesh bestows both these blessings to His ardent devotees.
If you look carefully at the Lord Ganesha, you will see a small mouse that act as his transport (Vahan), large ears, a big belly and four hands. If the trunk of 'Ganesha' is curved to the right, He is called 'Sidhi Vinayaka' and requires special and strict rituals to be followed during worship. Normally people get Ganesha idols with trunk curved to the left. Lord Ganesha sits with one foot on the ground and the other folded up, above the ground. This posture indicates that while we must operate in the world, one must be constantly aligned to our spiritual nature.
On Ganesh Chaturthi, Ganesh idol (made of special clay) is brought home. Chants of 'Ganpati Bappa Morya, Mangal Moorti Morya' rents in the air as the idols of Ganesha known as the 'Vignaharta' (remover of obstacles) slowly inches its way into the homes and hearts of his followers. These idols are kept for 1 ½ days, five days, 7 days, and 10 days and in some exceptional cases even for 21 days. During the days of India’s freedom struggle, Bal Gangadhar Tilak started public Ganesh pooja to bring people together and spread awareness about our freedom struggle.
Whether we witness green shoots or yellow weeds i.e. economic recovery or recession, nothing stops us from making more and more bigger idols and installing them in artistically decorated 'mandaps' ( large stage) across Mumbai, Pune and across the country. Thankfully people have started to get eco-friendly idols and observe eco friendly practices during immersion (Visarjan). Let’s hope in time to come we are able to eradicate the crass commercialization in Mumbai and allow free access to devotees to see the various beautiful idols.
Keeping the traffic congestion in mind, there are many who bring the idol a day before and next day devotees formally welcome the arrival of Ganesha and do the 'sthapana' (installation) of idols in sacred corners of their homes. Almost a fortnight before all preparations begins. Young and old assemble together and decide upon various contemporary themes and began decorating mandaps and even their homes. Family gatherings, entertainment programmes and meetings with people make this festival truly a cultural and social affair. Interestingly the old recordings of Lata Mangeshkar’s mellifluous rendition of Ganesh bhajan and songs are still enjoyable and are avidly played in various homes, radios, TV channels and in various housing complex and mandals
The best part always comes after the prayers and aarti (devotional songs) when the Lord's favourite 'Modak' (sweets) and ‘Laddoo’ are offered as Naivedya (Bhog or Prasad) is an offering to God. There are lots of fruits which are also offered and even used to decorate the place where the idol is installed. After the pooja is over people are served lunch on banana leaves.
It is difficult to resist delectable, mouth watering ‘Ukadiche Modak’ (Sweet stuffed rice flour dumpling - momos). You will find them in many Maharashtrian households. The pleated shape is called as-Modak shape!
The dough is given the shape after filling it with a stuffing that usually comprise of grated coconut mixed in sugar or jaggery with additives of spices like cardamom, clove, and roasted Khuskhus (poppy seeds), cashew nuts, salt etc.
A restaurant called Diva Maharashtra in Mumbai innovatively serves Khima Modak i.e. Modak stuffed with minced lamb and equally tasty Paneer Karanji.
Modak is very easy to make and the recipe is available on the net. Ask any women and she would claim that her mother’s recipe is the best. You can also enjoy deep fried Modaks- the external coating is prepared out of Maida (flour). In market you will come across shops largely selling modaks made from Khawa ( Mawa) and available with Kesar (Saffron) Modak, Chocolate Modak, Malai modak, Pista (Pistachio) Modak and so on..
The 'Shlok' or Prayer for Lord Ganesh:
Vakratund mahakaay suryakoti samaprabha
Nirvighnam Kurume deva sarvakaryeshu sarvadaa
Its English translation reads as: “O mighty God with a trunk, your brilliance is like that of a thousand suns; free my path of all obstacles in all auspicious works that I undertake.”..
May Lord Ganesha bless you and your dear ones with health, wealth, intelligence and clear away all the obstacles from the path....
Ganapati Bappa Morya!!...
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Some Chayageet – Soulful Music of a Bygone Era !...
Whether it is the newspapers, TV news, reality shows, FM radio, and even the advertisement hoardings, almost anything you watch or hear it is replete with news about bollywood, celebrities, their latest flicks and the latest hit songs. But during the days of good old single channel and the great Doordarshan, apart from Sunday movies, Chayageet was the only programme that provided glimpses of Hindi silver screen on our old Black and White idiot box…it really brought soulful music into our living rooms.
There are so many beautiful old songs and it is difficult to select the best out of them. However here's some treasure for you...some of my favourites...
These songs are epitome of evocative emotions, good lyrics, soulful music, brilliant cinematography, amazing direction and simplicity and are indeed a treat for someone who wants to learn about film making, and romance !..
Zulmi Sang Aank Ladi – Film Madhumati - Vjyantimala’s elemental beauty haunts you and she dances her heart out.. Supported by wonderful coordination from village belles…. And handsome Dilip Kumar at his best... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xugaLJCRR5w
Mora Gora Aang Lai Ley – Film Bandini – The Maestro Bimal Roy’s classic international award winning film. Salil Choudhury’s music and Gulzar’s first song… What simple and yet amazing poetry…. The cinematography and direction is incredible….beautiful Nutan and her expressions are simply seen to be believed. An actress who conveyed much more with her beautiful eyes….just a look or fleeting glance. No wonder Lata Mangeshkar singles her out as the heroine whose expressions came closest to suggest she was genuinely singing the song herself!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8v5VCev5Sgs
Uden Jab Jab Zhulphe Ter- Film Naya Daur - A splendid movie …not to be missed …this feet tapping song by Mohammed Rafi and Asha….lyrics by Sahir … is immortal …Dilip Kumar and Vjyantimala dance their heart out… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSoYs6BvXQ8
Accha ji mein hari – Film Kala Pani - Both the song and ethereal beauty Madhubala are irrestible and enchanting. Asha has performed incredulously and Madhubala’s acting brings out different emotions … http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOypYdeJBIE
Dil Tadap Tadap ke kehen raha – Film Madhumati- Vjyantimala personifies dancing and Dilip kumar at his best …magic of Mukesh, Lata and legendary Salilda…http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=te0ZdZ1ndyw
Chod do aanchal – Film Paying Guest – A sweet romantic duet by Kishore and Asha… Ever green Dev Anand flirting with ravishing Nutan.. look at her large ear rings…appears as sliced lemon dangling and later another new set of rings are seen… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOTs0EqVgj8
Ajeeb Dastan hein Yeh – Film – Dil Apna Aur Preet Parayi…Shankar Jaikishan’s haunting music…Shailendra’s lyrics and Lata’s honeyed voice coupled with Eternal beauty – Meena Kumari…her expressions and the song keeps playing on your mind for a very long time…Nadira looks beautiful and Raj Kumar attire reminds us of our uncles from old family albums .. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJLdL5_QkVo
O Sajna Barkha Bahar Aayi-Film Parakh- the magic of Shailendra, Lata and Salil Choudhury…makes this extremely difficult composition melodious…the sound of sitar is simply majestic http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2wjW36dPVk
Ja re Ud Ja Re Panchi – Film Maya – Lyrics by Majrooh Sultan Puri and again the combination of Lata and Salil Choudhary….Mala Sinha another eye candy in Hindi films… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytyoj0CU0Nc
Ae Dil Kahan Teri Manzil – Film Maya – the lyrics actually present a philosophy and brings out the human sufferings ….http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4iWTECF1bE
Tera Mera Pyaar Amar – Film – Asli Nakli –Directed by the talented and great Hrishkesh Mukherjee…Lata and Shankar Jaikishan combination…..Look how gorgeous Sadhana looks..reminds me of my mother who braided gajjra( flowers) in her hair and the picturisation is simple and yet touching… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NAh_0Mv09tA
Dil ka Bhawar kare pukar – Film - Tere Ghar Ke Samne - Remember Kate Winslet in Titanic ..standing on ship board with her hands wide against the breeze….see a similar shot in this song ….Nutan and Dev Anand bring a new dimension into romance…Nutan’s simplicity, her sharp prominent nose and height enhanced her looks … BTW, when was the last time you saw a big girl joyfully hopping and descending the stairs …perhaps in college…and look how she blushes and covers her face when our hero proposes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WZBBqGAkUM
Hum Hai Rahi Pyaar Ke – Film Nau Do Gyrah – S.D. Burman at his best. The whistling sets it apart from other songs. An immortal rendition by Kishore Kumar. Debonair Devanand drives down Fatepur Sikhri, Taj Mahal, on the streets of Delhi and in the hinterlands of Central India to reach Mumbai …. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YvWPx63CYAQ
Aankhon mein kya ji – Film - Nau Do Gyrah – the beautiful Kalpana Kartik and Handsome Dev Anand bring on screen the magic of versatile Asha and rocking Kishore Kumar http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uX3yLYhi0gY
Yaad Kiya ne dil ne kahaan ho tum – Film Patita …Lata and Hemant Kumar and Shankar Jaikishan music and lyrics Hasrat Jaipuri .. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DVPxPcxvB18
Tum Mujhe Bhool Bhi Jao – Film Didi – deep, meaningful lyrics by Sahir….A masterpiece by legendary Sudha Malhotra and artistic Mukesh…http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lU30FxQy2gU
Tum Apna Ranjo Gum – Film Shagoon – enjoy the lyrics and the piano….Khaiyam’s music and supposedly sung by Jagjit Kaur ..http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CkLWWWuJa6s
And finally let me end this Chayageet by urging you to enjoy this masterpiece…
Abhi na jao chod kar - Dark eye brows, prominent cheek bone ..typical Sindhi beauty…Sadhana..And her famous Sadhan Cut…. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rnh8GgsOpm4
Monday, August 17, 2009
A humble tribute to A Brilliant Athlete, All-rounder and The Inimitable Head Boy!
A young lad runs in, cleverly uses his height and shoulders to generate some pace. The ball falls on its seam and bounces higher. The bowler gives a wry smile, clenches his teeth with disappointment, bite his lips, swirls his neck, turns and walks slowly back to his bowling march.
Except for his athleticism, there was nothing classical in his bowling action yet there was something magnetic that kept you glued to him. There was a unique style and something, incredulously infectious about his attitude. Perhaps what differentiated him from the other players was his intensity of focus and determination.
Every afternoon this boy would stand near the school stage. Soon he would be surrounded by other students. These older boys talked incessantly, poked fun at others and giggled a lot. There was a spring in his step, certain deftness in his mannerism and he often spoke with a self assured tone.
Perhaps no other student in St John High School, Goregaon, received so much admiration, adulation and even respect from all, including teachers and his own batch mates. I am talking of a handsome, tall, medium built lad who sometimes played cricket with his school friends in my colony.
That day the batsman who evaded the bouncer was Anil from Shastri Nagar and the handsome bowler who was disappointed with the extra bounce – Farhat Siddiqi.
Farhat resembled my childhood heroes Sunil Gavaskar, Ian Botham, John McEnroe, Vivian Richards and few other great sportsmen - in the way he remained a human being, keeping his sport as merely part of his life so that it did not arrest his development or even reduced his responsibilities as an adult.
Once I saw Farhat boxing with his friends and later hitting hard at the punching bag. Reza Sir, the school coach was yelling at him and pushing the bag with force in his direction. Farhat jumped and moved aside. Next moment the bag hit him hard on his face. Farhat looked tired but he continued punching at the bag. There was an amazing chemistry between Reza Sir and Farhat. Perhaps Reza Sir considered Farhat as his son and it was evident, Farhat immensely worshipped him.
Reza Sir and I guess the entire school had lot of expectations from Farhat and young Farhat did live upto those expectations. Almost every afternoon, Farhat diligently practiced boxing for hours in the school compound. Self absorption is often detected in those blessed with exceptional talent. I suspect Farhat craved for the freedom of his youth and bravely followed his whims.
One fine day, my mother picked me early from school. On my way back, I saw Farhat and few other boys packing their boxing kit. Like any other kid in school, I screamed “Farhat”, “Farhat”…he looked at me and smiled back.
Mom told me that her school has organized an inter school boxing tournament and wanted me to accompany her. By the time we reached Dahisar it was already past 6: 30 p.m. Mom got busy with the organizing committee and requested some of her students and a peon to keep an eye on me. With a bottle of gold spot in hand, I went around the school building where all participants were getting ready. Soon I saw a familiar figure.
Farhat was standing under an electric bulb. I ran towards him. His face and shoulders glowed in that bright light. Farhat was wearing a red nylon shorts and sparkling white singlet (baniyan). Reza Sir with thick moustache and a young Louis D’Mello sir were standing next to him. The other team members were warming up. I went closer, shouting, “St John’s,”…. “St Johns”,… “Hip, Hip, Hurray”…Farhat and everybody around were puzzled and looked down…probably glad and definitely bewildered to see a lone supporter… They didn’t speak much …just said …. “Watch the match and keep shouting!”…
A tall, well lit, huge boxing ring stood in the center. The ring was separated by a thick rope. Only the officials and participants could enter inside these ropes. The sofas for dignitaries were kept close to the rope. There were more than 200 people including many students seated on wooden chairs around.
One of our school alumni lost the match. I was annoyed and started sulking. In few minutes, Farhat entered the ring. Whenever Gavaskar got out early, the Indian team would wrap up; and the same logic applied in case of Farhat and our boxing team.
Farhat’s opponent was slightly taller and equally strong. I remember Farhat was lagging in the first round and the scores were tied in the second round.
The second round was over and Farhat sat in one corner….there was pain on his face and it had almost turned red. Reza Sir rushed inside the ring with a towel, ice and a water bottle…. He later massaged Farhat’s arms and shoulders. I ran around the corner and stood watching Farhat and Reza Sir…Reza Sir was whispering something in Farhat’s ears…. Later, I could hear Reza Sir screaming … “Look at his eyes”…. “Keep looking at his eyes” ….and “use your left hand”… “Left hand”…
The bell rings…..Reza Sir was out of the ring…Farhat and the other boxer came together…the audience was loudly supporting Farhat’s opponent…the referee in the ring announced ‘Box’….
Soon both the boxers were ready…this was the final round….Farhat looked tired….but was determined…..the boxers came close….Farhat ducked…both of them hit at each other…they took blows on shoulders, in stomach….every time Farhat tried to attack, his opponent would cleverly cover his face, and somehow catch Farhat’s neck and embrace him…In that deadlock, both of them would try and hit at each others back…The referee again intervened…scolded Farhat and his opponent… and separated them…
In the next minute, Farhats opponent steps forward, and swung his left arm….and hit Farhat with few quick blows ….Farhat somehow managed to get out of that onslaught… moved behind…started breathing heavily…. ….
In the next moment, even before you could have blinked your eyes, Farhat stepped forward…..the opponent realized …and tried to jab with his left arm ….Farhat blocked…..now Farhat jabbed with his left arm…. The opponent blocked with his right arm … the opponent tried to hit Farhat with his left arm….Farhat quickly ducked…and THUD !!!….Farhat had hit a powerful left under cut….and before his opponent could realize, Farhat started treating his opponent as a punching bag !….
Farhat seized the moment and began assaulting right, left, right, left, right and WHAM !!! …at his opponent’s left ear….in those days …the boxers never wore a head guard… ….suddenly there was silence around….the other boxers from our school shouted, “Keep hitting Farhat”, “Come on Farhat”, “Farhat”……
His opponent was confused, tried to break free and soon another loud THUD !! on the chin…Farhat had hit again with his left hand …his opponent almost lost his balance….
Farhat was quick, hopped in the ring, almost jumped in air and stood on his toes and gave another right, left, right…..The referee rushed in ….It seemed Farhat didn’t want to stop….the referee asked Farhat to move to another corner…the referee started counting …1,2,3,…and before he had reached ‘6’…the other boxer conceded the match ….The referee in white clothing raised Farhat’s hand….the spectators begin clapping loudly…..My hero had won a tough bout….
The next day I happily shared this incident with my friends in class…
It was a proud moment for all when Farhat shared the ring with the legendary Muhammad Ali during his visit to Bombay. I remember watching Farhat on TV. I ran around my building telling everybody about Farhat and his match with Muhammad Ali.
Despite appearing on national television and in newspapers next day, Farhat never seem to relish the spotlight nor tried to avoid it, but simply accepted it and adjusted his life accordingly. As a Head boy, he probably set a tough benchmark in sports and academics and perhaps even for his younger siblings. Sometimes I feel the Siddiqi living room must have been converted into a make shift boxing ring with younger siblings - Arshaad and Zubair getting lessons from Farhat and reckon Asma must have been the referee.
Farhat was capable of extraordinary capabilities and yet it was boxing that seemed to be his ultimate passion. I knew that someday Farhat would represent our country in sports…He eventually did….and at a greatest level…By joining the air force he must have fought many battles - much tougher than those boxing bouts. He became a martyr during the Kargil War. Unfortunately I never got a chance to talk to him …Alas … never will…
Farhat finished school and left a grand legacy behind. I saw him only once …he looked different and guess sported a thick moustache. In someway Farhat influenced me and I am glad that he had been part of my growing years.
Perhaps this is the only way I can salute and express my tribute to Farhat, who personified the school emblem – Brave and Truth….
May his soul rest in peace!
Except for his athleticism, there was nothing classical in his bowling action yet there was something magnetic that kept you glued to him. There was a unique style and something, incredulously infectious about his attitude. Perhaps what differentiated him from the other players was his intensity of focus and determination.
Every afternoon this boy would stand near the school stage. Soon he would be surrounded by other students. These older boys talked incessantly, poked fun at others and giggled a lot. There was a spring in his step, certain deftness in his mannerism and he often spoke with a self assured tone.
Perhaps no other student in St John High School, Goregaon, received so much admiration, adulation and even respect from all, including teachers and his own batch mates. I am talking of a handsome, tall, medium built lad who sometimes played cricket with his school friends in my colony.
That day the batsman who evaded the bouncer was Anil from Shastri Nagar and the handsome bowler who was disappointed with the extra bounce – Farhat Siddiqi.
Farhat resembled my childhood heroes Sunil Gavaskar, Ian Botham, John McEnroe, Vivian Richards and few other great sportsmen - in the way he remained a human being, keeping his sport as merely part of his life so that it did not arrest his development or even reduced his responsibilities as an adult.
Once I saw Farhat boxing with his friends and later hitting hard at the punching bag. Reza Sir, the school coach was yelling at him and pushing the bag with force in his direction. Farhat jumped and moved aside. Next moment the bag hit him hard on his face. Farhat looked tired but he continued punching at the bag. There was an amazing chemistry between Reza Sir and Farhat. Perhaps Reza Sir considered Farhat as his son and it was evident, Farhat immensely worshipped him.
Reza Sir and I guess the entire school had lot of expectations from Farhat and young Farhat did live upto those expectations. Almost every afternoon, Farhat diligently practiced boxing for hours in the school compound. Self absorption is often detected in those blessed with exceptional talent. I suspect Farhat craved for the freedom of his youth and bravely followed his whims.
One fine day, my mother picked me early from school. On my way back, I saw Farhat and few other boys packing their boxing kit. Like any other kid in school, I screamed “Farhat”, “Farhat”…he looked at me and smiled back.
Mom told me that her school has organized an inter school boxing tournament and wanted me to accompany her. By the time we reached Dahisar it was already past 6: 30 p.m. Mom got busy with the organizing committee and requested some of her students and a peon to keep an eye on me. With a bottle of gold spot in hand, I went around the school building where all participants were getting ready. Soon I saw a familiar figure.
Farhat was standing under an electric bulb. I ran towards him. His face and shoulders glowed in that bright light. Farhat was wearing a red nylon shorts and sparkling white singlet (baniyan). Reza Sir with thick moustache and a young Louis D’Mello sir were standing next to him. The other team members were warming up. I went closer, shouting, “St John’s,”…. “St Johns”,… “Hip, Hip, Hurray”…Farhat and everybody around were puzzled and looked down…probably glad and definitely bewildered to see a lone supporter… They didn’t speak much …just said …. “Watch the match and keep shouting!”…
A tall, well lit, huge boxing ring stood in the center. The ring was separated by a thick rope. Only the officials and participants could enter inside these ropes. The sofas for dignitaries were kept close to the rope. There were more than 200 people including many students seated on wooden chairs around.
One of our school alumni lost the match. I was annoyed and started sulking. In few minutes, Farhat entered the ring. Whenever Gavaskar got out early, the Indian team would wrap up; and the same logic applied in case of Farhat and our boxing team.
Farhat’s opponent was slightly taller and equally strong. I remember Farhat was lagging in the first round and the scores were tied in the second round.
The second round was over and Farhat sat in one corner….there was pain on his face and it had almost turned red. Reza Sir rushed inside the ring with a towel, ice and a water bottle…. He later massaged Farhat’s arms and shoulders. I ran around the corner and stood watching Farhat and Reza Sir…Reza Sir was whispering something in Farhat’s ears…. Later, I could hear Reza Sir screaming … “Look at his eyes”…. “Keep looking at his eyes” ….and “use your left hand”… “Left hand”…
The bell rings…..Reza Sir was out of the ring…Farhat and the other boxer came together…the audience was loudly supporting Farhat’s opponent…the referee in the ring announced ‘Box’….
Soon both the boxers were ready…this was the final round….Farhat looked tired….but was determined…..the boxers came close….Farhat ducked…both of them hit at each other…they took blows on shoulders, in stomach….every time Farhat tried to attack, his opponent would cleverly cover his face, and somehow catch Farhat’s neck and embrace him…In that deadlock, both of them would try and hit at each others back…The referee again intervened…scolded Farhat and his opponent… and separated them…
In the next minute, Farhats opponent steps forward, and swung his left arm….and hit Farhat with few quick blows ….Farhat somehow managed to get out of that onslaught… moved behind…started breathing heavily…. ….
In the next moment, even before you could have blinked your eyes, Farhat stepped forward…..the opponent realized …and tried to jab with his left arm ….Farhat blocked…..now Farhat jabbed with his left arm…. The opponent blocked with his right arm … the opponent tried to hit Farhat with his left arm….Farhat quickly ducked…and THUD !!!….Farhat had hit a powerful left under cut….and before his opponent could realize, Farhat started treating his opponent as a punching bag !….
Farhat seized the moment and began assaulting right, left, right, left, right and WHAM !!! …at his opponent’s left ear….in those days …the boxers never wore a head guard… ….suddenly there was silence around….the other boxers from our school shouted, “Keep hitting Farhat”, “Come on Farhat”, “Farhat”……
His opponent was confused, tried to break free and soon another loud THUD !! on the chin…Farhat had hit again with his left hand …his opponent almost lost his balance….
Farhat was quick, hopped in the ring, almost jumped in air and stood on his toes and gave another right, left, right…..The referee rushed in ….It seemed Farhat didn’t want to stop….the referee asked Farhat to move to another corner…the referee started counting …1,2,3,…and before he had reached ‘6’…the other boxer conceded the match ….The referee in white clothing raised Farhat’s hand….the spectators begin clapping loudly…..My hero had won a tough bout….
The next day I happily shared this incident with my friends in class…
It was a proud moment for all when Farhat shared the ring with the legendary Muhammad Ali during his visit to Bombay. I remember watching Farhat on TV. I ran around my building telling everybody about Farhat and his match with Muhammad Ali.
Despite appearing on national television and in newspapers next day, Farhat never seem to relish the spotlight nor tried to avoid it, but simply accepted it and adjusted his life accordingly. As a Head boy, he probably set a tough benchmark in sports and academics and perhaps even for his younger siblings. Sometimes I feel the Siddiqi living room must have been converted into a make shift boxing ring with younger siblings - Arshaad and Zubair getting lessons from Farhat and reckon Asma must have been the referee.
Farhat was capable of extraordinary capabilities and yet it was boxing that seemed to be his ultimate passion. I knew that someday Farhat would represent our country in sports…He eventually did….and at a greatest level…By joining the air force he must have fought many battles - much tougher than those boxing bouts. He became a martyr during the Kargil War. Unfortunately I never got a chance to talk to him …Alas … never will…
Farhat finished school and left a grand legacy behind. I saw him only once …he looked different and guess sported a thick moustache. In someway Farhat influenced me and I am glad that he had been part of my growing years.
Perhaps this is the only way I can salute and express my tribute to Farhat, who personified the school emblem – Brave and Truth….
May his soul rest in peace!
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