Its not the Marina Beach or the improbably smelly Cooum that one has to look out for in Chennai. If ever the opportunity presents itself, keep two eyes on the autokkarans of that place. Blessed with seemingly malleable autos and even more flexible outlook to the idea of space, these drivers can stuff anything and everything into their vehicles.
This facet was the highlight of a visit to the ever-raining land where at the Central station, we (four of us), and our luggage (one bulky suitcase, 4 big travel bags, a laptop, a monitor and two bags with shoes) were planning a travel to Egmore (approximately a drive of 20 minutes in decent traffic). As we searched for a big-enough taxi, out popped an enterprising auto driver from nowhere. He offered to drop us at Egmore for what looked like a nominal price. With the rate decided on, we asked to see the two autos. Autos? That guy wasn't talking in the plural at all as he stubbornly maintained that one auto was all that was necessary for the paltry sum of 4 men and an ordinary bulk of luggage!
Even though it seemed fantastical, we were just keen to see how he would pull this Houdini act. Something had to give: our idea of space or his confidence. Thankfully, it was us who came out the wiser as every bit of weight that seemed too big for a train compartment fit in seamlessly in this mound of yellow and black.
I seriously feel Packers and Movers have serious competition now!
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
A trip to Heggodu
Please note: This blog has moved out to a much neater place.
After a drive lasting around an hour and a half from Shimoga, one enters the village of Heggodu – a place surrounded by rampant greenery; pleasantly infested by areca-nut plantations and whose inhabitants are amicable to say the least. In a way, all the natural splendour (for someone from Bangalore, the healthy trees invoke nostalgia, not familiarity) seems to seamlessly blend with the quiet revolution that this place has been home to.
Heggodu has been hosting one of the most extraordinary annual cultural gatherings in India, which has made ordinary villagers accept the arts as a happy way of life; where curious visitors – both famous and otherwise have visited to experience and feel part of this splendid festival of sorts.
This year, the culture camp at Neenasam (an acronym for Neelakantheshwara Nataka Samsthe) was pregnant with poignancy. The institution had lost its mentor, K.V. Subbanna a few months ago. He had taken over the reins of Neenasam from his father who had started it in 1949. With a keen eye for the then modern, high-quality cinema and his roots firmly based on a love for the theater, Subbanna managed to open up the world for his village. In 1979, he had organized a film appreciation course where around 70 films were shown to an eager audience at the Shivaram Karanth Rangamandira (a structure which is yet another proof of the vision of Subbanna) in the space of a week!
Thus, this year, without the man who had championed this monumental movement, some may have harboured doubts over its functioning. But as U.R. Ananthamurthy said on the inaugural day, Subbanna had not only set out on an improbable journey, he had also prepared a sincere team of people who would carry his dreams along.
Neenasam – Cultural Camp 2005
Violence – left and right, was the subject of discussion this year. From 9.30 in the morning to 6.00 in the evening, experts from various walks of life took part in these discussions, for a whole week.
There were more than a 100 participants who had come from various parts of the state and country. Students, engineers, doctors, theater enthusiasts – young and old, NGO workers, wannabe writers, all made up this cauldron of diversity.
The keynote address was delivered by former Development Commissioner of Karnataka, Chiranjeevi Singh. With vast experience from watching the state’s system of crime (having worked in areas affected by naxalism), Singh gave a straightforward, almost cold, account of facts. An interesting point that he made was about the basic ground of defence that naxals use for their behaviour. Singh said that unlike the contention that it is the poor who take to arms, quite a lot of well-to-do people indulge in these activities.
He also took pride in the fact that it had been in his time in office that the allocation of Rs.30 lakhs, annually, for each Gram Panchayat, was ordered.
Shiv Vishwanathan, the social scientist, while commenting on Singh’s speech felt the rightist violence was as dangerous as it was because there wasn’t an element of confusion in the perpetrators. This confusion, or an uncertainty over the result of their actions, would indeed be the only factor that could bring about a change in their thoughts.
The same day, after Chiranjeevi Singh’s address, two speakers, Giraddi Gopalraj and G. Rajashekhar, spoke on violence in today’s Karnataka. While Gopalraj’s speech was a serene study of the unconsciously accepted corruption of Kannada, Rajshekhar’s was a theoretical rendition of views borne out of unabashed activism. The latter’s study was a vigorous attack on all kinds of violence even if, at times, the speaker seemed to cover an entire gamut of the subject in too short a time.
U.R. Anathamurthy, during the following discussions wondered if writers ought to be more daring in their approach. He cited Da. Ra. Bendre and Chandrashekhar Kambar (who was also present during the discussion) as examples of such writers.
Each day of the programme featured a cultural event at 7.00 in the evening at the Shivaram Karanth Rangamandira. The first day played host to Neenasam’s own play, Patharagithi Pakka. Based on a Federico Garcia Lorca play, and featuring a fine blend of Bendre’s poetry, it showcased the exciting talent this theater group possessed. Directed by K.V. Akshara, Patharagithi used modern song-and-dance sequences with Bendre’s poetry to lasting effect. Though Lorca’s story might have lost its charm following years of plundering it received from Father Time, Akshara’s direction and the energy of the music and cast surely makes this a must-see.
On the second day, Sunder Sarukkai, made a presentation on Violence and Science. With his background in Physics and Philosophy, Sarukkai made a calculated break-down of the role of science in violence. In what turned out to be a precursor to a more remarkable analysis of science and violence that would follow a few days later, he talked about the finite and the infinite parameters, which again, one felt, somehow pointed to Shiv Vishwanathan’s call for uncertainty.
Dr. Venkat Rao, from the Central Institute of English and Foreign Languages, Hyderabad, presented a paper on Violence of Action and Memory. While he sung songs from his memory of childhood and showed videos of the Naxalite activist, Gadar, Rao also spoke at length on epistemic memory, allusions, and what he referred to as, mnemoculture.
The second day’s cultural event in the evening was theater-person Atul Tiwari’s version of Romeo and Juliet. Unlike the first day’s play, this Neenasam production seemed half-baked. Firstly, the task on hand for Tiwari and his crew was to make the everyday story of two lovers look interesting. That they couldn’t do it was not unacceptable. But most of the factors in the play looked jaded; not the least, the acting. This was surprising as just the previous evening the same cast had performed outstandingly in Patharagithi Pakka. There were also those utterly redundant, and hence irritating, interludes featuring two musicians who act as Sutradhars, and hum the same tune throughout the play. Tiwari, during the next day’s discussion session felt his actors could do a lot better, but perhaps the idea of performing Shakespeare even in this day (with hardly any novelties) provides little space for curiousity. What was striking also was the idolization of the 18th-century playwright by people involved in theater. Even if one accepts the colossal form that Shakespeare is to this day, does he in some way kill creativity in modern times? Or is it just much ado about nothing?
Shiv Vishwanathan would come back, now with a full-fledged presentation, speaking with energy and gusto which somehow most social scientists seem to be blessed with. He spoke on violence, politics and the combustible combination the two make. He talked about the panoptical surveillance idea of the 18th century devised by Jeremy Bentham, whose theory still seems attractive to well-off governments. (The Panopticon was an architectural design which was so sophisticated that the inmates of a penitentiary were always watched by a controller, but the controller was never visible to the inmates.)
Vishwanathan’s widely researched lecture was so full with ideas and views that at one point it became difficult to keep pace with him. As he agreed later on, to simplify his dramatic speech, he would have needed a few more hours than what he got.
The afternoon session on the third day featured what were to be the two best plays of the week. Neenasam not only has three theater groups of its own (one of them is the Thirugaata which travels around carrying two new plays every year, and has scores of shows each year), but it also encourages people inside the institution – like the faculty members – to form groups of their own. One such offshoot is the group formed by a teacher at Neenasam, Ganesh. His two plays, Shraddha and Hanathe, based on Shrinivas Vaidya’s short stories, were both simple and touching – two qualities that generally elude modern experiments. With minimal props, the two plays made a deep impact as if they had come straight out of R.K. Narayan’s Malgudi Days.
Vaidya, who, during the inaugural day’s introduction had claimed that he had always missed the bus to literary achievement, spoke about how his works had been recognized by Subbanna, and why there was a need for unknown authors to be recognised thus.
As a repartee to Vaidya’s views, Kannada literary critic and teacher, Kee. Ram. Nagaraj, said that anybody who felt there was a specialized group that scoured the land for a new writing star, was mistaken.
The third day’s evening play was called Talakadugonda. It was a historical and was anything but arresting. However, what puzzled and delighted anyone who sat through the show and hurried for his dinner after that was how quickly the actors on stage had changed jobs. All the cast members were amateurs (this was another of Neenasam’s theater groups) and most of them worked in helping out visitors like us during our stay there. Thus, while the cook in the mess became a queen’s confidante in the play, the person in-charge of the day-to-day arrangements would play a courtier. Even more astonishing was the fact that before we made our way to the mess, the actors had shed their mascara and were ready to serve.
The fourth day saw the first presentation from Anand Patwardhan, the well-known documentary film-maker. But before Patwardhan came up with an excerpt of his films, Shiv Vishwanathan presented the second part of his lecture. This time, he spoke of the poignancy of partition. He rated, among others, Franz Kafka’s works and Alexander Solzenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago as works which had profound political significance.
Mark Lindley, an American expert on Gandhi, gave a presentation on globalization and violence. He also focused on the failings of Richard Attenborough’s much-acclaimed film on the Mahatma.
That evening, Hindustani Classical musician, Rajshekhar Mansur, from the Jaipur Athroli Gharana, performed in front of an appreciative audience.
There was more of Mansur, as the next morning, he held a sort of interview-demonstration as he sung various compositions with Manu Chakravarthy making the requests.
Then, Patwardhan screened his Father, Son and Holy War, to an audience which was surprisingly in good spirits for a film like that. The reason was not far away. The documentary focused on the subject of masculinity and violence. Somehow, while dealing with a subject as serious as the Sati rituals and communalism, it produced laughter thanks to the clever editing. One wonders, for effectiveness, if there is at all any other way to document violence than ultra-seriously; because, for all his good intention, Patwardhan’s Father, Son and Holy War seemed even frivolous at times.
The evening had to endure one major absentee of this year’s programme. T.M. Krishna, the Carnatic singer, failed to arrive thanks to heavy rains in Chennai. As a replacement, Patwardhan’s War and Peace was screened. A rabid criticism of the nuclear programme, War and Peace seemed to follow the same rule book that Father, Son and Holy War adhered to. Juxtaposition of ironical shots drawing humour and interest; past talks by leaders and scientists to achieve that irony; normal villagers speaking out against the programme, etc. all form the basis of War and Peace.
In the following day’s response to his films, Patwardhan was taken aback when Sunder Sarukkai came up with a few explanations from scientists to the criticism the film leveled against the nuclear programme. The scientists contended, Sarukkai said, that the nuclear arms race and nuclear energy development are two fields that are conveniently confused by activists. The nuclear energy development according to them has become a necessity so as to support India’s spiraling ride of consumerism. They also felt that the plants set-up in India have all been safer than other energy sources and the number of diseases or deaths reported due to nuclear radiation in India was also negligible. Also, an even greater danger of waste disposal came from discarded computer hardware, Sarukkai added.
This clinical tabling of an opposite perspective seemed to unbalance Patwardhan’s defence. He had earlier accepted that even for a documentary film-maker like him, it is impossible to avoid taking sides. He had even mentioned that given the amount of footage he has to edit for each film, the end result becomes, in some ways, a work of fiction. However, an unbiased approach, if at all it is possible, might have given him more substance for a discussion. In another film of his, the Narmada Diary, shown later, Patwardhan had replaced his clever editing for a style which was a mere record of his and co-director Simantini Dhuru’s days with the Narmada Bachao Andolan and its chief activist Medha Patkar. This film was his best of the three shown. It was one-sided, alright, but there was a certain simplicity about it which effectively drove home his view that innumerable villages face a watery death thanks to the hope that the dam would send more water to the cities. In all, Patwardhan’s was an eventful visit, which if analysed, could bring about a discussion on the role of activism in the visual medium.
Later on, literary critic Samik Bandyopadhyay, a regular Neenasam visitor for some years now, spoke on violence in such mediums as films. He also screened the latter half of Akira Kurosawa’s Ran. One of his last films, Kurosawa’s Ran is an unrelenting study of violence with Shakespeare’s King Lear as a basis.
An interesting discussion took place in an evening session when Ashadevi, Savitha Nagabhushana and author, Vaidehi, spoke on violence related to women. While Ashadevi’s was a cold, honest look at the subject, Savitha Nagabhushana read a few verses of hers and Vaidehi read a delightful story that she had written.
On the penultimate day of the culture course, Jaimini Pathak performed a one-act play called Mahadevbhai; an experimental play on the life of Mahatma Gandhi’s secretary. This play too was a worthy addition to the list of positives derived from the week-long event.
Sadananda Menon, journalist-cum-photographer-cum-theater lighting expert, was the next key speaker. His first point was on the depiction of statistics. Arguing that when someone says 44% of India earns less than a dollar a day, he means that 44 crore people are so poor. Menon felt this is a simple reason for the rise of naxalism. He was scathing in his condemnation of the government’s policy towards eradicating naxalism, where Rs. 2000cr are allotted to counter it, but only Rs. 20cr were sanctioned for further development in such areas. Menon felt the surge of capitalism would create a greater divide between the rich and the poor and there had to be contextual solutions for each situation.
The tour-de-force speech was left to the fag end of the course. After the feedback session on the final day, U.R. Ananthamurthy extemporized on the core subject of debate. He spoke of a writer’s predicaments while chronicling right-wing violence and also about his tryst with the Left’s workings in earlier times. He felt the more one tried to describe the background of a rebellious faction, one felt their acts or views justifiable. The feeling of helplessness few writers felt when he had to balance the narration of violent acts of one community by mentioning an equal amount of violence by another community was also something he touched upon. Much of Ananthamurthy’s views were interspersed with anecdotes from his life. He seemed to be someone who had attained a state of simplicity that only experience provides.
The final performance of the week was a dance programme by a troupe choreographed by Chandralekha. As each leg and arm of the dancers took the longest route possible from one body part to another, with the Gundecha brothers’ Dhrupad vocals as background, the curtain came down on the magnificent idea of the culture course.
A note has to be added about the volunteers who kept the daily goings-on steady with their efficiency; the current batch of students and their early morning Kolaata; the exceptional quality of translation by Jaswanth Jadhav and of course the village of Heggodu which bears Subbanna’s ideas with pride.
After a drive lasting around an hour and a half from Shimoga, one enters the village of Heggodu – a place surrounded by rampant greenery; pleasantly infested by areca-nut plantations and whose inhabitants are amicable to say the least. In a way, all the natural splendour (for someone from Bangalore, the healthy trees invoke nostalgia, not familiarity) seems to seamlessly blend with the quiet revolution that this place has been home to.
Heggodu has been hosting one of the most extraordinary annual cultural gatherings in India, which has made ordinary villagers accept the arts as a happy way of life; where curious visitors – both famous and otherwise have visited to experience and feel part of this splendid festival of sorts.
This year, the culture camp at Neenasam (an acronym for Neelakantheshwara Nataka Samsthe) was pregnant with poignancy. The institution had lost its mentor, K.V. Subbanna a few months ago. He had taken over the reins of Neenasam from his father who had started it in 1949. With a keen eye for the then modern, high-quality cinema and his roots firmly based on a love for the theater, Subbanna managed to open up the world for his village. In 1979, he had organized a film appreciation course where around 70 films were shown to an eager audience at the Shivaram Karanth Rangamandira (a structure which is yet another proof of the vision of Subbanna) in the space of a week!
Thus, this year, without the man who had championed this monumental movement, some may have harboured doubts over its functioning. But as U.R. Ananthamurthy said on the inaugural day, Subbanna had not only set out on an improbable journey, he had also prepared a sincere team of people who would carry his dreams along.
Neenasam – Cultural Camp 2005
Violence – left and right, was the subject of discussion this year. From 9.30 in the morning to 6.00 in the evening, experts from various walks of life took part in these discussions, for a whole week.
There were more than a 100 participants who had come from various parts of the state and country. Students, engineers, doctors, theater enthusiasts – young and old, NGO workers, wannabe writers, all made up this cauldron of diversity.
The keynote address was delivered by former Development Commissioner of Karnataka, Chiranjeevi Singh. With vast experience from watching the state’s system of crime (having worked in areas affected by naxalism), Singh gave a straightforward, almost cold, account of facts. An interesting point that he made was about the basic ground of defence that naxals use for their behaviour. Singh said that unlike the contention that it is the poor who take to arms, quite a lot of well-to-do people indulge in these activities.
He also took pride in the fact that it had been in his time in office that the allocation of Rs.30 lakhs, annually, for each Gram Panchayat, was ordered.
Shiv Vishwanathan, the social scientist, while commenting on Singh’s speech felt the rightist violence was as dangerous as it was because there wasn’t an element of confusion in the perpetrators. This confusion, or an uncertainty over the result of their actions, would indeed be the only factor that could bring about a change in their thoughts.
The same day, after Chiranjeevi Singh’s address, two speakers, Giraddi Gopalraj and G. Rajashekhar, spoke on violence in today’s Karnataka. While Gopalraj’s speech was a serene study of the unconsciously accepted corruption of Kannada, Rajshekhar’s was a theoretical rendition of views borne out of unabashed activism. The latter’s study was a vigorous attack on all kinds of violence even if, at times, the speaker seemed to cover an entire gamut of the subject in too short a time.
U.R. Anathamurthy, during the following discussions wondered if writers ought to be more daring in their approach. He cited Da. Ra. Bendre and Chandrashekhar Kambar (who was also present during the discussion) as examples of such writers.
Each day of the programme featured a cultural event at 7.00 in the evening at the Shivaram Karanth Rangamandira. The first day played host to Neenasam’s own play, Patharagithi Pakka. Based on a Federico Garcia Lorca play, and featuring a fine blend of Bendre’s poetry, it showcased the exciting talent this theater group possessed. Directed by K.V. Akshara, Patharagithi used modern song-and-dance sequences with Bendre’s poetry to lasting effect. Though Lorca’s story might have lost its charm following years of plundering it received from Father Time, Akshara’s direction and the energy of the music and cast surely makes this a must-see.
On the second day, Sunder Sarukkai, made a presentation on Violence and Science. With his background in Physics and Philosophy, Sarukkai made a calculated break-down of the role of science in violence. In what turned out to be a precursor to a more remarkable analysis of science and violence that would follow a few days later, he talked about the finite and the infinite parameters, which again, one felt, somehow pointed to Shiv Vishwanathan’s call for uncertainty.
Dr. Venkat Rao, from the Central Institute of English and Foreign Languages, Hyderabad, presented a paper on Violence of Action and Memory. While he sung songs from his memory of childhood and showed videos of the Naxalite activist, Gadar, Rao also spoke at length on epistemic memory, allusions, and what he referred to as, mnemoculture.
The second day’s cultural event in the evening was theater-person Atul Tiwari’s version of Romeo and Juliet. Unlike the first day’s play, this Neenasam production seemed half-baked. Firstly, the task on hand for Tiwari and his crew was to make the everyday story of two lovers look interesting. That they couldn’t do it was not unacceptable. But most of the factors in the play looked jaded; not the least, the acting. This was surprising as just the previous evening the same cast had performed outstandingly in Patharagithi Pakka. There were also those utterly redundant, and hence irritating, interludes featuring two musicians who act as Sutradhars, and hum the same tune throughout the play. Tiwari, during the next day’s discussion session felt his actors could do a lot better, but perhaps the idea of performing Shakespeare even in this day (with hardly any novelties) provides little space for curiousity. What was striking also was the idolization of the 18th-century playwright by people involved in theater. Even if one accepts the colossal form that Shakespeare is to this day, does he in some way kill creativity in modern times? Or is it just much ado about nothing?
Shiv Vishwanathan would come back, now with a full-fledged presentation, speaking with energy and gusto which somehow most social scientists seem to be blessed with. He spoke on violence, politics and the combustible combination the two make. He talked about the panoptical surveillance idea of the 18th century devised by Jeremy Bentham, whose theory still seems attractive to well-off governments. (The Panopticon was an architectural design which was so sophisticated that the inmates of a penitentiary were always watched by a controller, but the controller was never visible to the inmates.)
Vishwanathan’s widely researched lecture was so full with ideas and views that at one point it became difficult to keep pace with him. As he agreed later on, to simplify his dramatic speech, he would have needed a few more hours than what he got.
The afternoon session on the third day featured what were to be the two best plays of the week. Neenasam not only has three theater groups of its own (one of them is the Thirugaata which travels around carrying two new plays every year, and has scores of shows each year), but it also encourages people inside the institution – like the faculty members – to form groups of their own. One such offshoot is the group formed by a teacher at Neenasam, Ganesh. His two plays, Shraddha and Hanathe, based on Shrinivas Vaidya’s short stories, were both simple and touching – two qualities that generally elude modern experiments. With minimal props, the two plays made a deep impact as if they had come straight out of R.K. Narayan’s Malgudi Days.
Vaidya, who, during the inaugural day’s introduction had claimed that he had always missed the bus to literary achievement, spoke about how his works had been recognized by Subbanna, and why there was a need for unknown authors to be recognised thus.
As a repartee to Vaidya’s views, Kannada literary critic and teacher, Kee. Ram. Nagaraj, said that anybody who felt there was a specialized group that scoured the land for a new writing star, was mistaken.
The third day’s evening play was called Talakadugonda. It was a historical and was anything but arresting. However, what puzzled and delighted anyone who sat through the show and hurried for his dinner after that was how quickly the actors on stage had changed jobs. All the cast members were amateurs (this was another of Neenasam’s theater groups) and most of them worked in helping out visitors like us during our stay there. Thus, while the cook in the mess became a queen’s confidante in the play, the person in-charge of the day-to-day arrangements would play a courtier. Even more astonishing was the fact that before we made our way to the mess, the actors had shed their mascara and were ready to serve.
The fourth day saw the first presentation from Anand Patwardhan, the well-known documentary film-maker. But before Patwardhan came up with an excerpt of his films, Shiv Vishwanathan presented the second part of his lecture. This time, he spoke of the poignancy of partition. He rated, among others, Franz Kafka’s works and Alexander Solzenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago as works which had profound political significance.
Mark Lindley, an American expert on Gandhi, gave a presentation on globalization and violence. He also focused on the failings of Richard Attenborough’s much-acclaimed film on the Mahatma.
That evening, Hindustani Classical musician, Rajshekhar Mansur, from the Jaipur Athroli Gharana, performed in front of an appreciative audience.
There was more of Mansur, as the next morning, he held a sort of interview-demonstration as he sung various compositions with Manu Chakravarthy making the requests.
Then, Patwardhan screened his Father, Son and Holy War, to an audience which was surprisingly in good spirits for a film like that. The reason was not far away. The documentary focused on the subject of masculinity and violence. Somehow, while dealing with a subject as serious as the Sati rituals and communalism, it produced laughter thanks to the clever editing. One wonders, for effectiveness, if there is at all any other way to document violence than ultra-seriously; because, for all his good intention, Patwardhan’s Father, Son and Holy War seemed even frivolous at times.
The evening had to endure one major absentee of this year’s programme. T.M. Krishna, the Carnatic singer, failed to arrive thanks to heavy rains in Chennai. As a replacement, Patwardhan’s War and Peace was screened. A rabid criticism of the nuclear programme, War and Peace seemed to follow the same rule book that Father, Son and Holy War adhered to. Juxtaposition of ironical shots drawing humour and interest; past talks by leaders and scientists to achieve that irony; normal villagers speaking out against the programme, etc. all form the basis of War and Peace.
In the following day’s response to his films, Patwardhan was taken aback when Sunder Sarukkai came up with a few explanations from scientists to the criticism the film leveled against the nuclear programme. The scientists contended, Sarukkai said, that the nuclear arms race and nuclear energy development are two fields that are conveniently confused by activists. The nuclear energy development according to them has become a necessity so as to support India’s spiraling ride of consumerism. They also felt that the plants set-up in India have all been safer than other energy sources and the number of diseases or deaths reported due to nuclear radiation in India was also negligible. Also, an even greater danger of waste disposal came from discarded computer hardware, Sarukkai added.
This clinical tabling of an opposite perspective seemed to unbalance Patwardhan’s defence. He had earlier accepted that even for a documentary film-maker like him, it is impossible to avoid taking sides. He had even mentioned that given the amount of footage he has to edit for each film, the end result becomes, in some ways, a work of fiction. However, an unbiased approach, if at all it is possible, might have given him more substance for a discussion. In another film of his, the Narmada Diary, shown later, Patwardhan had replaced his clever editing for a style which was a mere record of his and co-director Simantini Dhuru’s days with the Narmada Bachao Andolan and its chief activist Medha Patkar. This film was his best of the three shown. It was one-sided, alright, but there was a certain simplicity about it which effectively drove home his view that innumerable villages face a watery death thanks to the hope that the dam would send more water to the cities. In all, Patwardhan’s was an eventful visit, which if analysed, could bring about a discussion on the role of activism in the visual medium.
Later on, literary critic Samik Bandyopadhyay, a regular Neenasam visitor for some years now, spoke on violence in such mediums as films. He also screened the latter half of Akira Kurosawa’s Ran. One of his last films, Kurosawa’s Ran is an unrelenting study of violence with Shakespeare’s King Lear as a basis.
An interesting discussion took place in an evening session when Ashadevi, Savitha Nagabhushana and author, Vaidehi, spoke on violence related to women. While Ashadevi’s was a cold, honest look at the subject, Savitha Nagabhushana read a few verses of hers and Vaidehi read a delightful story that she had written.
On the penultimate day of the culture course, Jaimini Pathak performed a one-act play called Mahadevbhai; an experimental play on the life of Mahatma Gandhi’s secretary. This play too was a worthy addition to the list of positives derived from the week-long event.
Sadananda Menon, journalist-cum-photographer-cum-theater lighting expert, was the next key speaker. His first point was on the depiction of statistics. Arguing that when someone says 44% of India earns less than a dollar a day, he means that 44 crore people are so poor. Menon felt this is a simple reason for the rise of naxalism. He was scathing in his condemnation of the government’s policy towards eradicating naxalism, where Rs. 2000cr are allotted to counter it, but only Rs. 20cr were sanctioned for further development in such areas. Menon felt the surge of capitalism would create a greater divide between the rich and the poor and there had to be contextual solutions for each situation.
The tour-de-force speech was left to the fag end of the course. After the feedback session on the final day, U.R. Ananthamurthy extemporized on the core subject of debate. He spoke of a writer’s predicaments while chronicling right-wing violence and also about his tryst with the Left’s workings in earlier times. He felt the more one tried to describe the background of a rebellious faction, one felt their acts or views justifiable. The feeling of helplessness few writers felt when he had to balance the narration of violent acts of one community by mentioning an equal amount of violence by another community was also something he touched upon. Much of Ananthamurthy’s views were interspersed with anecdotes from his life. He seemed to be someone who had attained a state of simplicity that only experience provides.
The final performance of the week was a dance programme by a troupe choreographed by Chandralekha. As each leg and arm of the dancers took the longest route possible from one body part to another, with the Gundecha brothers’ Dhrupad vocals as background, the curtain came down on the magnificent idea of the culture course.
A note has to be added about the volunteers who kept the daily goings-on steady with their efficiency; the current batch of students and their early morning Kolaata; the exceptional quality of translation by Jaswanth Jadhav and of course the village of Heggodu which bears Subbanna’s ideas with pride.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Getting to the bottom of the nut
If ever you are left to choose between boiled groundnuts and roasted ones, read on. This is a compilation which is a result of days and days of waiting for BMTC buses under humongous trees and facing various kinds of weather. So it must have a certain credence to it.
Advantages of boiled groundnuts:
1. They are covered, hence their pathological associations are extremely low and you are in control of your fate.
2. Since they are groundnuts, they ought to be tasty. But boiled ones are not crunchy. It can be an advantage.
3. More time to eat - peeling them off and eating one at a time takes a longer time, hence you have more chance of eating till the bus arrives.
4. More in one. Boiled groundnuts guarantee you at an average 2 nuts in one. Sometimes they go up to 4 in a pack.
5. Some groundnuts have an amusing reserve of water. Those ones which look at the head like an eager owl consist of considerable amount of water. Try squeezing them; they'll let out a shower of salty brewage.
Drawbacks of boiled groundnuts:
1. You never know what you can get. Covered groundnuts have a tendency to attract rot and decay.
2. Bloody hot they are. If you have the luck of your life and the bus arrives just as you get your one rupee worth of maal, try boarding a stuffed bus with a burning left hand.
3. Don’t meet a friend if eating boiled ones. Advantage no. 4 will turn into a problem as you’d part with more groundnuts each time he buries his hand into the packet.
4. Advantage no. 5 will be a disadvantage if you squeeze with the nut's head at a co-passenger’s face.
Advantages of roasted groundnuts:
1. Crunchy.
2. Not many rotten nuts as the seller would have sorted them out earlier.
Disadvantages of roasted groundnuts:
1. All the Nitrous Oxide, Carbon Monoxide, formaldehyde, methanol, propanol, what and all make there way into them. They are free, you see.
2. The fun that goes with peeling a groundnut is conspicuous with its absence.
3. Less nuts for one rupee.
There is one other thing of importance. The conical packets for boiled nuts are wider while those for the roasted ones are longitudinal.
Advantages of boiled groundnuts:
1. They are covered, hence their pathological associations are extremely low and you are in control of your fate.
2. Since they are groundnuts, they ought to be tasty. But boiled ones are not crunchy. It can be an advantage.
3. More time to eat - peeling them off and eating one at a time takes a longer time, hence you have more chance of eating till the bus arrives.
4. More in one. Boiled groundnuts guarantee you at an average 2 nuts in one. Sometimes they go up to 4 in a pack.
5. Some groundnuts have an amusing reserve of water. Those ones which look at the head like an eager owl consist of considerable amount of water. Try squeezing them; they'll let out a shower of salty brewage.
Drawbacks of boiled groundnuts:
1. You never know what you can get. Covered groundnuts have a tendency to attract rot and decay.
2. Bloody hot they are. If you have the luck of your life and the bus arrives just as you get your one rupee worth of maal, try boarding a stuffed bus with a burning left hand.
3. Don’t meet a friend if eating boiled ones. Advantage no. 4 will turn into a problem as you’d part with more groundnuts each time he buries his hand into the packet.
4. Advantage no. 5 will be a disadvantage if you squeeze with the nut's head at a co-passenger’s face.
Advantages of roasted groundnuts:
1. Crunchy.
2. Not many rotten nuts as the seller would have sorted them out earlier.
Disadvantages of roasted groundnuts:
1. All the Nitrous Oxide, Carbon Monoxide, formaldehyde, methanol, propanol, what and all make there way into them. They are free, you see.
2. The fun that goes with peeling a groundnut is conspicuous with its absence.
3. Less nuts for one rupee.
There is one other thing of importance. The conical packets for boiled nuts are wider while those for the roasted ones are longitudinal.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
News on booze
What do you get by mixing supposed journalism with Bollywood-ish creativity? Star News.
One of the most entertaining channels floating around with a chilly-reddened tongue and a hidden camera as its vital body part, Star is seeing stars and showing decorated gas.
Like one of its hottest programmes, the channel sounds a Red Alert to all those who are indulging in unclean activities. The only problem is that there is no definition of what is unclean and we really have to be red and alert to its news, not to listen to it as truth but to be aware enough to separate the news from nonsense; because, with Star, more than any other news provider, everything is sensational.
Last week though had the channel in a really creative mood. Like every other channel whose newscasters and editors had got bored and battered by reporting the same rains, defeats and politics, Star too broke the news of the Indian team’s selection for the life-and-death tour of Zimbabwe. It was only expected as this channel’s breaking news infobar has become a permanent fixture. So it had to be filled in with a few bright coloured fonts and we were told that Virender Sehwag was named the vice-captain for the series. This meant that as Saurav Ganguly was named captain, the captain in the previous tour, Rahul Dravid, would be relegated to the pure-batsman position. This was a bloody serious info one got from Star as it was indeed too much of a sensation for even the BCCI to give birth to. As it happened, it was a lie. Some smartass reporter thinking he was kicking ass whipped up this frenzy, as the selections had, like in most of the previous decade, passed off peacefully and reasonably. But what took the cake was the expert view in the studio by a Star regular, Syed Kirmani. Kiri was asked about this earth-shattering development and the poise that he showed was to be seen to be believed. “It is a plan for the future,” he said and seemed to have no problem in seeing his state-mate lose the vice-captaincy in a week when he was praised by almost everyone for his captaincy in Sri Lanka.
What happened next, and if there was an apology of sorts (!) I wouldn’t know as the next time I switched the channel on, some Africans were showing their talent in making dollar bills (why don't they teach this in school) even though quite unaware of the high-tech camera as the channel’s vital part. Why am I beginning to feel a sense of nostalgia towards Doordarshan?
One of the most entertaining channels floating around with a chilly-reddened tongue and a hidden camera as its vital body part, Star is seeing stars and showing decorated gas.
Like one of its hottest programmes, the channel sounds a Red Alert to all those who are indulging in unclean activities. The only problem is that there is no definition of what is unclean and we really have to be red and alert to its news, not to listen to it as truth but to be aware enough to separate the news from nonsense; because, with Star, more than any other news provider, everything is sensational.
Last week though had the channel in a really creative mood. Like every other channel whose newscasters and editors had got bored and battered by reporting the same rains, defeats and politics, Star too broke the news of the Indian team’s selection for the life-and-death tour of Zimbabwe. It was only expected as this channel’s breaking news infobar has become a permanent fixture. So it had to be filled in with a few bright coloured fonts and we were told that Virender Sehwag was named the vice-captain for the series. This meant that as Saurav Ganguly was named captain, the captain in the previous tour, Rahul Dravid, would be relegated to the pure-batsman position. This was a bloody serious info one got from Star as it was indeed too much of a sensation for even the BCCI to give birth to. As it happened, it was a lie. Some smartass reporter thinking he was kicking ass whipped up this frenzy, as the selections had, like in most of the previous decade, passed off peacefully and reasonably. But what took the cake was the expert view in the studio by a Star regular, Syed Kirmani. Kiri was asked about this earth-shattering development and the poise that he showed was to be seen to be believed. “It is a plan for the future,” he said and seemed to have no problem in seeing his state-mate lose the vice-captaincy in a week when he was praised by almost everyone for his captaincy in Sri Lanka.
What happened next, and if there was an apology of sorts (!) I wouldn’t know as the next time I switched the channel on, some Africans were showing their talent in making dollar bills (why don't they teach this in school) even though quite unaware of the high-tech camera as the channel’s vital part. Why am I beginning to feel a sense of nostalgia towards Doordarshan?
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Cycles in circles
"Chandi ki cycle, sone ki seat; aao chalen darling, chalen double seat" - so sang Govinda to Juhi Chawla in that great film that glorified the importance of the sister-in-law, Bhabhi.Those were the happy times for films in Bombay. It wouldn't have been so had the Maverick of the East - Manoj Kumar - not tread on treacherous routes to pave the way for the great bicycle called Bollywood.Manojji took acting to a wholly new level of expertise in his earlier films, and when he made a film called Clerk with Rekhaji in the lead (both were aged less than 60, so they played college students), he took acting to a "holely" new level.
To decode that pleasing pun, watch Clerk on a DVD. But coming back to ManojUncle's bravura performances in his effort to pave that way for cycles from Mumbai go towards enchanted land, nothing is as commendable as his endurance-infused ride in Shor.If Philius Fogg took 80 days to circle the world and complete a cycle, ManojDada circled on a cycle for 7 days to conquer the world. In fact, had internet and the rest of communication apparatus was in place in 1972, ManojPaaji could well have broken Lance Armstrong's record in the Tour de France even before it was made!
It is indeed a pity that we laud Armstrong for making history on a cycle when our very own ManojKaka had done even better long earlier in the annals of time. Should we not give him his rightful due by calling him the maker of pre-history, then?To call or not to call might be the question for you, but I ask only two.
Q1. How the hell on earth did ManojAnna stay riding on the cycle for that long a time?
Q2. How does this co-incidence thing operate?
Ans1: He was ably assisted, like Armstrong was, by a few well-wishers. I can only remember Premnath. If ManojBabu was Lance Armstrong, PremMamu was his equally brilliant mate, Dance Armstrong. DanceChacha did all the jigs one can possibly do while singing a Bollywood song for the seventh day on the trot and while also keeping pace with the rider. So frenetic was his terpsichore that either his trousers were invaded by ants or he was electrocuted with a controlled and persistently-short circuit. HE was the reason for ManojBaboi's race of life.
Ans2: A Bollywood actress, once in a state of sublime fluidity, remarked, "If the choice is between congentital diseases, co-optex and co-incidence, I'll, without a blink of an eye, take the latter." Even though unnecessary, she had raised a valid point - that of the importance of the entity called co-incidence. How else can you accomodate the following sequence of events in the field of normal time? On Saturday, I go and watch the Cyclist, a film by Mohsen Makhmalbaf about a guy who circles and cycles for seven days to save his wife. The next day, DD shows Shor, and the One-Day match between India and West Indies excuses me only so much that I watch the cycling part in it. An even more weird happening on the same day is that I catch a glimpse of Pawan Malhotra in a programme on Sun TV (of all places) in a commercial film awards ceremony. Firstly, Malhotra was the guy who circles around a nukkad's circle for a few days for some reason in that legendary tele-series of the 80s, Nukkad. And on that day of the South Indian awards, he came on stage not because he is a South Indian or even because he had won an award. He came on stage to receive someone else's award. If this does not make you a believer in co-incidence, perhaps you need to see this article on some other blog too. In one stroke of genius, Mohsen, Manoj and Malhotra were united. Maula's maya makes multiple magic.
To decode that pleasing pun, watch Clerk on a DVD. But coming back to ManojUncle's bravura performances in his effort to pave that way for cycles from Mumbai go towards enchanted land, nothing is as commendable as his endurance-infused ride in Shor.If Philius Fogg took 80 days to circle the world and complete a cycle, ManojDada circled on a cycle for 7 days to conquer the world. In fact, had internet and the rest of communication apparatus was in place in 1972, ManojPaaji could well have broken Lance Armstrong's record in the Tour de France even before it was made!
It is indeed a pity that we laud Armstrong for making history on a cycle when our very own ManojKaka had done even better long earlier in the annals of time. Should we not give him his rightful due by calling him the maker of pre-history, then?To call or not to call might be the question for you, but I ask only two.
Q1. How the hell on earth did ManojAnna stay riding on the cycle for that long a time?
Q2. How does this co-incidence thing operate?
Ans1: He was ably assisted, like Armstrong was, by a few well-wishers. I can only remember Premnath. If ManojBabu was Lance Armstrong, PremMamu was his equally brilliant mate, Dance Armstrong. DanceChacha did all the jigs one can possibly do while singing a Bollywood song for the seventh day on the trot and while also keeping pace with the rider. So frenetic was his terpsichore that either his trousers were invaded by ants or he was electrocuted with a controlled and persistently-short circuit. HE was the reason for ManojBaboi's race of life.
Ans2: A Bollywood actress, once in a state of sublime fluidity, remarked, "If the choice is between congentital diseases, co-optex and co-incidence, I'll, without a blink of an eye, take the latter." Even though unnecessary, she had raised a valid point - that of the importance of the entity called co-incidence. How else can you accomodate the following sequence of events in the field of normal time? On Saturday, I go and watch the Cyclist, a film by Mohsen Makhmalbaf about a guy who circles and cycles for seven days to save his wife. The next day, DD shows Shor, and the One-Day match between India and West Indies excuses me only so much that I watch the cycling part in it. An even more weird happening on the same day is that I catch a glimpse of Pawan Malhotra in a programme on Sun TV (of all places) in a commercial film awards ceremony. Firstly, Malhotra was the guy who circles around a nukkad's circle for a few days for some reason in that legendary tele-series of the 80s, Nukkad. And on that day of the South Indian awards, he came on stage not because he is a South Indian or even because he had won an award. He came on stage to receive someone else's award. If this does not make you a believer in co-incidence, perhaps you need to see this article on some other blog too. In one stroke of genius, Mohsen, Manoj and Malhotra were united. Maula's maya makes multiple magic.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Uproarious Solitude
Reading a book written almost four decades earlier is quite often a frustrating experience. Bad novels remain bad with more dust on their covers, but even good works tend to lose credibility as time makes them look haggard.
This leaves us with very few books that still carry that rare character of mystery to a first time reader. Some call this cult favourites, while if these books touch a broader section of audience, they are hailed great.
One distinguishing trait for a book to be dubbed great is its longevity. If it survives maniacal cold wars of one era, followed by sugar-sweet democracies of another and then the subsequent, bustling market-place of globalisation, it has to be a truly great book.
There have been such works which have survived for decades and no worm has gnawed on them enough to decrease, in any way, their spirit. They, like lifelong celebrities, are not allowed a moment of solitude.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez's rip-roaring One Hundred Years of Solitude is one such beauty. Written in the 60s, an era in which world literature rose above the mundane life of English writing, One Hundred... is still fresh for someone who is much younger than the book itself.Along with works like Gunter Grass's Tin Drum and - our own - O.V. Vijayan's Legends of Khasak, Marquez's epic about a bizarre family in an outrageous village called Macondo, is a work that carries the reader to places he wouldn't have dreamt of and introduces characters who are outlandish, yet seem as real as a next door neighbour.
The story (as the age-old lady, Ursula, keeps saying about her life) just goes round and round - from one Aureliano to another, from one Arcadio to another. It does help that Marquez provides us with the family tree of the Buendias, the head of which - Jose Arcadio - finds the enchanted land of Macondo which finds itself surrounded by swamp and sea. The Buendia family grows and grows, as the climate and inhabitants of the village keep changing. If at first a set of intelligent gypsies visit the land with inventions like magnets and ice, in a different era, an English company sets its plant there to the disgust and pleasure of the locals. Wars, babies, science, art, incest and adultery, the village sees, and becomes part of, everything.
Showing an intelligence and imagination of enviable quality, Marquez creates such vibrant characters that it is obvious he has more than an opinion to express, and that the book is as much current affairs as it is magic realism (a term made famous in the literary circle by this book).
The social and political connotations may have been a highlight at the time when One Hundred... was written and to go digging out inferences and decoding metaphors might be a good exercise, but it isn't necessary because the book is too intricately-layered to fall into the category of the ephemeral.
Marquez has provided this book with enough oxygen for it to live and entertain for at least a century. And who knows, even after that it might not be allowed the solitude that runs hauntingly through this brilliant tale.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Rahman Rises
A R Rahman, when he began, and A R Rahman, now, are like two sides of an audio cassette. There are brilliant compositions on either side with a fair sprinkling of uninterested fillers. He has, like a great sportsman would, risen to top form when the stakes were high. When he had to keep his meter ticking with run-of-the-mill fare, he just about managed to get six songs into the soundtrack.
As his career has raised its pitch from film to film, note by note, his estimation of which stake is high and which is not has also changed. So, Shankar, an erstwhile Rahman-regular has looked at options elsewhere. Now, it is the musician who chooses the film he wants to do. However, he has been involved in so many indifferent ventures that one has begun to believe that even he needs time to cool-off, and what better way than to write above-average music for ordinary films. It thus comes as no surprise that he puts in refreshing bytes of sweat and tune for a high-profile project like the Rising after having sleep-walked his way through such bores as Kisna, Boys and Tehzeeb.The fun in listening to Rahman's score in the Rising is that, after his music has adjusted to the Hindi language (thanks mainly to some outstanding lyrics), it has no unnecessary strains of South India in this score. Even when Roja, Rangeela and Bombay were made to wear Northie attire, their music always seemed to come from Adyar.
Rising, Ketan "Mirch Masala" Mehta's magnum-opus, has Aamir Khan. But if he has to justify his star-billing he would have had a lot to do to overwhelm Rahman's score and push into being just a team player. Strangely, the title track should help him do it to some extent.
"Mangal Mangal" rings no less than three times on the volume and every time it has a different sound to it. Rahman would thank his stars that it is Javed Akhtar's words he has threaded into unheard-of tunes. For long, like a good fast bowler who suffers bad slip fielders, Rahman has endured many hopeful, inarticulate poets.He would have rejoiced (subject to his Hindi) like we would when listening to the utterly folksy and lovable voice of Kailash Kher croon, "Koi thut pe hi dhooni ramaye, koi darsan ko jhatpat jaaye". This, as the song seems to describe the pre-struggle days of the devout, takes a rebellious tone in the second version when Kher, again, vaults to a feverish pitch with Akhtar penning appropriately, "Jo seene mein hai jwala behki hui, kabhi pehle hamne dekhi nahi".
In the third and final edition, Kher is joined by another earthly voice from the lungs of Sukhwinder Singh as they record the martyrdom of Mangal Pandey and yes, Akhtar is there to provide the right words yet again."Dekho Dekho samay kya dikhaaye, dekhkar bhi na biswaas aaye", sing the two, narrating a sacrifice.
Such is the force of these three sibling-tracks that one finds it difficult to stop coming back to them. To his credit Rahman has produced a few other tracks which are strong enough to stand on their own feet."Main vari vari" is a tremendous achievement as Kavitha Krishnamurthi and Reena Bharadwaj rediscover the Mujra; especially delightful is the phase where the chorus sings "Main vari vari". It sometimes sounds like "meva rivari, meva rivari" but perhaps that is what adds the delight.
"Holi Re" is the "album ko nazar na lag jaaye" song which is just passable. Aamir Khan semi-sings in this one.
In the other side, sandwiched between two "Mangal Mangal" versions are "Takey Takey" and "Al Maddath". The former is the fun aspect of this album while "Al Maddath" is a quintessential Sufi-style song featuring A R Rahman.Though most of the songs have a wonderful form to them, this album, at least during the initial sessions of listening, is about the three "Mangal Mangal" brothers. In this cycling season, like Armstrong and the rest of the riders, Rising is about "Mangal Mangal" and the rest. And of course, like it has been for most part of the last decade, music in Mumbai is about Rahman and the rest.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Chappell's way
Greg Chappell’s passage into Indian cricket bears the same eerie resonance that accompanied Kapil Dev when he took over the role of the Indian team’s coach in 1999. Kapil came with scintillating adornments on his chest that had resulted from years of toil as a cricket player. Chappell has the same glitter. Kapil was made coach at a time when the team was in turmoil, where lesser names were just not a feasible option. Chappell comes at a slightly healthier time, but with few players in perhaps a similar state of crisis. Kapil was expected to raise the team to unconquered peaks. Chappell, even though has a sturdier foundation to build on, is expected to put India in no less a position than at the top.
When Kapil left the team, it was in a worse state than when he took it – admittedly, much of the problems that beset the team were non-cricketing in nature.
What will be the state of Indian cricket when Chappell leaves?
Ian Chappell, Greg’s brother, feels there is no need of a coach. Whether he means that players do not need guidance or that coaches don’t do much good is not clear. However, whenever a coach has been appointed for a top team, he has generated much interest and after he leaves, there is a sure change in the position of the team – for better or for worse. Kapil Dev’s exit was perhaps the worst moment in Indian cricket as it coincided with the match-fixing controversy. But even before that happened, Kapil’s selection itself was a result of hope; a hope that was born out of Kapil’s reputation as a player than from his ability as a coach.
Greg Chappell, thankfully, promises a lot more than just a fantastic playing record. Like everyone who wanted to be chosen as coach, he too claimed that he had it in him to take the team to the peak of cricket. But he hasn’t stopped at that. The very first words that came from the new Indian coach touched on such issues as the backup strength of the team and the pitches in the country; issues that are dealt only when they stare menacingly at the team (even though his call for the “best cricket wicket possible” is prone to be taken for granted).
This is perhaps his biggest asset along with his reputation of being a no-nonsense man. He seems to think beyond the obvious, which strangely is closer to simplicity than what has been made to look as obvious. His comments on batting are well-documented and without a doubt he will have an immediate impact on the batsmen. He has also spoken about Sachin Tendulkar and his batting style. Though he curtly said that Tendulkar would never be able to play like in the past, he cushioned the blow with an assurance that he’d sort his role in the team.
The fact that Chappell has been given the job till the World Cup of 2007 suggests that One-Day cricket is of paramount importance to the board. The Indian team has had a poor last few months of One-Day cricket and a key reason is the lack of fitness among bowlers. How far he would be able to impart his coaching in that respect is to be seen.
He would need all the information he can gather to find a backup spinner for Anil Kumble and Harbhajan Singh. The regularity with which the fast bowlers are falling injured should worry him no end. But there are quite a lot more issues that he would encounter on this sojourn and the most difficult one could be his relationship with the board.
All the contenders for the post waxed eloquent about the challenges the role poses for them. Most of these challenges are unnecessary and that is where the frustration for a foreigner lies. If Chappell can weave his way past these few cricketing and quite a few non-cricketing problems, he will be better equipped to do some good for India.
When Kapil left the team, it was in a worse state than when he took it – admittedly, much of the problems that beset the team were non-cricketing in nature.
What will be the state of Indian cricket when Chappell leaves?
Ian Chappell, Greg’s brother, feels there is no need of a coach. Whether he means that players do not need guidance or that coaches don’t do much good is not clear. However, whenever a coach has been appointed for a top team, he has generated much interest and after he leaves, there is a sure change in the position of the team – for better or for worse. Kapil Dev’s exit was perhaps the worst moment in Indian cricket as it coincided with the match-fixing controversy. But even before that happened, Kapil’s selection itself was a result of hope; a hope that was born out of Kapil’s reputation as a player than from his ability as a coach.
Greg Chappell, thankfully, promises a lot more than just a fantastic playing record. Like everyone who wanted to be chosen as coach, he too claimed that he had it in him to take the team to the peak of cricket. But he hasn’t stopped at that. The very first words that came from the new Indian coach touched on such issues as the backup strength of the team and the pitches in the country; issues that are dealt only when they stare menacingly at the team (even though his call for the “best cricket wicket possible” is prone to be taken for granted).
This is perhaps his biggest asset along with his reputation of being a no-nonsense man. He seems to think beyond the obvious, which strangely is closer to simplicity than what has been made to look as obvious. His comments on batting are well-documented and without a doubt he will have an immediate impact on the batsmen. He has also spoken about Sachin Tendulkar and his batting style. Though he curtly said that Tendulkar would never be able to play like in the past, he cushioned the blow with an assurance that he’d sort his role in the team.
The fact that Chappell has been given the job till the World Cup of 2007 suggests that One-Day cricket is of paramount importance to the board. The Indian team has had a poor last few months of One-Day cricket and a key reason is the lack of fitness among bowlers. How far he would be able to impart his coaching in that respect is to be seen.
He would need all the information he can gather to find a backup spinner for Anil Kumble and Harbhajan Singh. The regularity with which the fast bowlers are falling injured should worry him no end. But there are quite a lot more issues that he would encounter on this sojourn and the most difficult one could be his relationship with the board.
All the contenders for the post waxed eloquent about the challenges the role poses for them. Most of these challenges are unnecessary and that is where the frustration for a foreigner lies. If Chappell can weave his way past these few cricketing and quite a few non-cricketing problems, he will be better equipped to do some good for India.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Beauty starts at 40
Paolo Maldini is in his late 30s and is doing AC Milan great service, as he has been for all of 21 years. But that shouldn't concern us or this article.
Last week something strange happened. Two of my slippers lost control of themselves and had it not been for my fortitude in my mid-twenties, I would have had a different hair colour by now. On second thoughts, that would have been better but that is not the point. My slippers did give way, one after the other, and I didn't fall, at least not literally, for I fell for temptation, figuratively, a few minutes later.
If my errand was to find Abbas Kiarostami's and Akira Kurosawa's landmark movies, I failed. But I did find Imran Khalid's Sanyasi Mera Naam, and as a vernac Malayalee hero would say, "Jest fur 40 rubies." And the following is its story:
I have seen many a neo-perpendicular movie starring Mithun and have learnt a lot from it; in fact some in the top-most levels of American intelligence say he and his films were the sole reasons for me getting an engineering degree. I have no idea who they are. But, as Harrison Ford would say, it isn't a big but, I know for sure that this was different. Here, the auteurs have taken carnal-education to an entirely - hitherto-unseen - place. Yes, India's population is a little on the higher side and that you-know-what disease is killing more here than anywhere else, but even those champions who called for children to be made aware of themselves would be stunned by this interpretation. I mean, just how could anyone be so smart? I mean, its like, NASA missed out on these guys, you know, almost as if they forgot to interview in their campus or something. Shucks, fire the HR of NASA, I'd say. Crikey! Such ineptitude. Actually, I won't be telling you what that smartazz idea was. That way you can pick up your own copy of the epoch-maker for "jest 40 rubies."
About the story, in the end Mithun beats up the bad guys. What I ill reveal is the starting lyrics of a rumbustious love-intro song. It goes thus:
Aashiq hai ladke, Aashiq hai Ladke,
UP Bihar ke, Chaar Chaar ke...(repeat as many times as you want)
All this for "jest 40 rubies."
Last week something strange happened. Two of my slippers lost control of themselves and had it not been for my fortitude in my mid-twenties, I would have had a different hair colour by now. On second thoughts, that would have been better but that is not the point. My slippers did give way, one after the other, and I didn't fall, at least not literally, for I fell for temptation, figuratively, a few minutes later.
If my errand was to find Abbas Kiarostami's and Akira Kurosawa's landmark movies, I failed. But I did find Imran Khalid's Sanyasi Mera Naam, and as a vernac Malayalee hero would say, "Jest fur 40 rubies." And the following is its story:
I have seen many a neo-perpendicular movie starring Mithun and have learnt a lot from it; in fact some in the top-most levels of American intelligence say he and his films were the sole reasons for me getting an engineering degree. I have no idea who they are. But, as Harrison Ford would say, it isn't a big but, I know for sure that this was different. Here, the auteurs have taken carnal-education to an entirely - hitherto-unseen - place. Yes, India's population is a little on the higher side and that you-know-what disease is killing more here than anywhere else, but even those champions who called for children to be made aware of themselves would be stunned by this interpretation. I mean, just how could anyone be so smart? I mean, its like, NASA missed out on these guys, you know, almost as if they forgot to interview in their campus or something. Shucks, fire the HR of NASA, I'd say. Crikey! Such ineptitude. Actually, I won't be telling you what that smartazz idea was. That way you can pick up your own copy of the epoch-maker for "jest 40 rubies."
About the story, in the end Mithun beats up the bad guys. What I ill reveal is the starting lyrics of a rumbustious love-intro song. It goes thus:
Aashiq hai ladke, Aashiq hai Ladke,
UP Bihar ke, Chaar Chaar ke...(repeat as many times as you want)
All this for "jest 40 rubies."
Monday, April 11, 2005
Match made in heaven, played in Spain
After the all-star clash between Real Madrid and Barcelona at the Santiago Bernabeu in Madrid on Sunday, the Spanish football league for this season could have been sealed for good. Blue and red-striped Barcelona had, throughout this year, beaten most opponents black and blue. Real Madrid too had faced their ire when the two teams last met at Barca’s home ground, the Nou Camp. Riding on virtuoso performances from World Player of the Year, Ronaldinho and Real discard, Samuel Eto’o, the Catalan giants annihilated Madrid’s stars. It looked, at that time, like the balance of power had shifted towards Barcelona. It might still happen given that they are 6 points clear in the leader-board. But the way Madrid’s “Galacticos” bombarded their defence to earn a scintillating 4-2 win, coach Frank Rijkaard knows that the race is still on for the Primera Liga.
“El Classico”
Here were two traditional rivals battling against each other in, perhaps, the most entertaining league in Europe. Both of the teams had most of their stars in fine fitness and in decent form; and weren’t they evenly matched? If Madrid had Zidane, Barca could show Ronaldinho; for every Samuel Eto’o, there was a Ronaldo for Real. Raul, Owen, Beletti, Salgado, Carlos, van Bronkhorst, Giuly, Casillas … the list went on. This was a perfect setting for a potentially-combustive Spanish classic.
After 90 minutes of the “El Classico” in Nou Camp a few months back, Real Madrid had been subjected to a royal hounding, an embarrassing experience of football’s equivalent of Clockwork Orange’s “ultra-violence”. Looking lethargic, and rather old, the mavericks from Madrid were mere shadows of their illustrious selves. It didn’t help one bit that they were left chasing shadows of the quick-footed, industrious, inventive and in-form Barca stars. To give appropriate credit, Real looked poor because Barca were just too good on the day.
But this return match was different. Ronaldinho had just about recovered from an illness and Henrik Larsson has been out for most of the season with a bad injury. The dynamic Portuguese midfielder, Deco, wasn’t available either, though in some ways it was nullified as Luis Figo, his national teammate, was dropped from Madrid’s starting line-up. The 4-2 win for Madrid was not just an exhibition of breath-taking, attacking football (even at the expense of defence), it also threw the season wide open as now Madrid have a ray of hope to win the title. But it is interesting to note why Barcelona, all of a sudden, became more powerful than their arch-rivals given that they had at times occupied the bottom-half of the league table in the last few seasons.
A tale of two signings
Ronaldinho came to Barcelona at a time when the Spanish giants were going through one of their worst ever phases. Without the league title for some years, it was in many ways a last hope for Barca when they signed the brilliant Brazilian. From that point on, the club has grown in leaps and bounds. Ronaldinho has been a typical Brazilian-Barcelona player with his flair and zest. This was precisely what the club and its supporters wanted as he inspired the team to great victories and such has been his consistency that in this season, they have lost very few matches in the league. But for a controversial John Terry-goal for Chelsea, Barcelona might have stayed in the Champions League now.
Real Madrid, on the other hand, after winning the La Liga in 2002, promptly sacked their coach and captain. The biggest decision though was when club president, Florentino Perez, according to his somewhat ill-fated “Pavons and Zidanes” policy, brought in the “T-shirt seller”, David Beckham. What Beckham did was; of course, sell Real Madrid’s T-shirts in faraway China and score a couple of goals from free-kicks. With an abundance of superstars in the midfield, one often wondered if Beckham was at all necessary to Madrid’s needs. The move didn’t pay off and Real went from bad to worse last season, where at one point they were actually in contention for three big trophies.
For all his superiority over Beckham as a player, Ronaldinho’s move worked because he fit into the team’s style immediately (or was it the team that changed according to him?). Real Madrid chose a superstar over an effective center-back, which is where was a void after Fernando Hierro’s departure. However, on Sunday, Beckham paid back to his club for the millions they spent on him, with his footballing skills.
Contrasting 2004
If the 2003 inclusions (or the non-inclusions) were a mistake by Real’s president, what then of this season’s signings? He seemed to have learnt his lessons when he decided on bringing in central defenders. Bringing in two of them was even better. But Walter Samuel and Jonathan Woodgate have been plagued by injuries and the prudence in signing Woodgate, given that he was injured when signed, has to be questioned. Perhaps, he is an investment for the next season, as he probably hasn’t seen a football in Spain yet. The most successful entrant though has to be Michael Owen and even if his decision to join a team which had three world-class strikers (Fernando Morientes though left for Liverpool this January) with it was surprising, so far Real have got their money’s worth from the Englishman.
Real Madrid now seem to be on the mend. The stars are shining and the desire to succeed is back in them. Perhaps, being out of the Champions League is only going to help them as the sole aim now for the Galacticos will be to stump the Catalans.
“El Classico”
Here were two traditional rivals battling against each other in, perhaps, the most entertaining league in Europe. Both of the teams had most of their stars in fine fitness and in decent form; and weren’t they evenly matched? If Madrid had Zidane, Barca could show Ronaldinho; for every Samuel Eto’o, there was a Ronaldo for Real. Raul, Owen, Beletti, Salgado, Carlos, van Bronkhorst, Giuly, Casillas … the list went on. This was a perfect setting for a potentially-combustive Spanish classic.
After 90 minutes of the “El Classico” in Nou Camp a few months back, Real Madrid had been subjected to a royal hounding, an embarrassing experience of football’s equivalent of Clockwork Orange’s “ultra-violence”. Looking lethargic, and rather old, the mavericks from Madrid were mere shadows of their illustrious selves. It didn’t help one bit that they were left chasing shadows of the quick-footed, industrious, inventive and in-form Barca stars. To give appropriate credit, Real looked poor because Barca were just too good on the day.
But this return match was different. Ronaldinho had just about recovered from an illness and Henrik Larsson has been out for most of the season with a bad injury. The dynamic Portuguese midfielder, Deco, wasn’t available either, though in some ways it was nullified as Luis Figo, his national teammate, was dropped from Madrid’s starting line-up. The 4-2 win for Madrid was not just an exhibition of breath-taking, attacking football (even at the expense of defence), it also threw the season wide open as now Madrid have a ray of hope to win the title. But it is interesting to note why Barcelona, all of a sudden, became more powerful than their arch-rivals given that they had at times occupied the bottom-half of the league table in the last few seasons.
A tale of two signings
Ronaldinho came to Barcelona at a time when the Spanish giants were going through one of their worst ever phases. Without the league title for some years, it was in many ways a last hope for Barca when they signed the brilliant Brazilian. From that point on, the club has grown in leaps and bounds. Ronaldinho has been a typical Brazilian-Barcelona player with his flair and zest. This was precisely what the club and its supporters wanted as he inspired the team to great victories and such has been his consistency that in this season, they have lost very few matches in the league. But for a controversial John Terry-goal for Chelsea, Barcelona might have stayed in the Champions League now.
Real Madrid, on the other hand, after winning the La Liga in 2002, promptly sacked their coach and captain. The biggest decision though was when club president, Florentino Perez, according to his somewhat ill-fated “Pavons and Zidanes” policy, brought in the “T-shirt seller”, David Beckham. What Beckham did was; of course, sell Real Madrid’s T-shirts in faraway China and score a couple of goals from free-kicks. With an abundance of superstars in the midfield, one often wondered if Beckham was at all necessary to Madrid’s needs. The move didn’t pay off and Real went from bad to worse last season, where at one point they were actually in contention for three big trophies.
For all his superiority over Beckham as a player, Ronaldinho’s move worked because he fit into the team’s style immediately (or was it the team that changed according to him?). Real Madrid chose a superstar over an effective center-back, which is where was a void after Fernando Hierro’s departure. However, on Sunday, Beckham paid back to his club for the millions they spent on him, with his footballing skills.
Contrasting 2004
If the 2003 inclusions (or the non-inclusions) were a mistake by Real’s president, what then of this season’s signings? He seemed to have learnt his lessons when he decided on bringing in central defenders. Bringing in two of them was even better. But Walter Samuel and Jonathan Woodgate have been plagued by injuries and the prudence in signing Woodgate, given that he was injured when signed, has to be questioned. Perhaps, he is an investment for the next season, as he probably hasn’t seen a football in Spain yet. The most successful entrant though has to be Michael Owen and even if his decision to join a team which had three world-class strikers (Fernando Morientes though left for Liverpool this January) with it was surprising, so far Real have got their money’s worth from the Englishman.
Real Madrid now seem to be on the mend. The stars are shining and the desire to succeed is back in them. Perhaps, being out of the Champions League is only going to help them as the sole aim now for the Galacticos will be to stump the Catalans.
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