It seems to be History season for me. After ending 2010 with
American history, my first read this year was set in the stormy Jacobite
struggles of England, again from a Reader's Digest Condensed Books edition. For all the English authors I have read, my knowledge of
Britain’s history is fuzzy at best. The English are to be blamed for that, they
have way too much print on their history, you know. Ok, before I wander off as
I usually do, let me get to the review part.
Having started off historical fiction with Kalki’s unmatched
Ponniyin Selvan, my yardsticks for historical fiction are quite high.
And Anya Seton’s Devil Water did live up to the expectations as best as
any non-tamil writing could. The comprehension of the story and even my review
requires some reading up on the history of the 17th and 18th
century England.
While I cannot do justice to the review without some
introduction to the Stuarts Monarchs of England, the history is highly
complicated and difficult to explain. I will endeavor to state only the barest
of essentials here. The Stuart Monarchs descended from the Kings of Scotland
where they had ruled for over 200 years in the 14th, 15th
and 16th centuries. The Stuarts then ruled over the entire island of
Britain from 1567 until the staunchly Catholic James II was overthrown in the
Glorious Revolution of 1688. The Stuarts did not rule between 1649 and 1660
when monarchy was inoperative as a result of the English Civil War. The novel
is set in the Jacobite struggles of late 17th and early 18th
century, when attempts were made to restore James II, then his son James III
and later his grandson Charles to the throne. The word Jacobite derives from Jacobus
which means James.
And now for a little bit of geography - Northumbria or Northumberland is the picturesque north corner of England, just south of Scotland.
The narrative of Devil Water unfolds from Charles
Radcliffe, brother of the Earl of Derwentwater, James Radcliffe. The Radcliffe
brothers were cousins to the Pretender James III and devoted supporters
of the Jacobite cause.
The beginning of the book is a romantic read – descriptive
and adventurous. The setting is pastoral and political connotations are sparse.
The accents take some getting used to. Completely unfamiliar with how the
Northumbrian, Highland accents sound, I stumbled over the dialogues quite a bit
initially. Thankfully the author did not insist on sticking to accents
throughout, that would have made it a bit tiresome.
The initial part of the narrative follows adolescent Charles
Radcliffe romancing Meg Snowdon, a Highlands girl. The romance of Charles and
Meg comes to an abrupt end when Meg disappears. With the arrival of James
Radcliffe into the scene, the story moves between London and Dilston Castle.
Charles is all set to marry his cousin Betty Lee, when he is snatched by Meg’s brothers
and married to Meg who is pregnant with his child. Meg gives birth to a
daughter – Jane, that very night.
Charles loves Jane as soon as he lays his eyes on her.
Robert Wilson, Meg’s brother-in-law, a rustic young lad of ten, dotes upon
little Jane. The affections these two widely different characters – one
aristocratic, the other a simpleton, hold for Jane forms the centre stage of the story.
For a while it looks like the three are set to go their
separate ways. While Charles works for the Jacobite cause with his brother
James, Rob Wilson tries to make his own way in the world. Jane meanwhile, is
sent to Betty Lee’s (who is married to another cousin now) household at the
behest of Charles, to be brought up a lady. The Jacobite risings churn the
waters and inexorably bring the three together.
Anya Seton writes suspense, romance, narrative and
description with equal ease and in splendid style. The story has the right
amount of drama, intrigue and the right pace to hold one’s interest. The
author takes care to ensure the descriptions do not make the story unrealistic
in anyway. The portrayal of Jane and her inner turmoils as she grows up at
Betty’s household, is exceptionally well-written. The description of 18th
century London is refreshingly new and far removed from being cliché.
The
author moves to colonial America with ease as Jane follows Rob Wilson into
Virginia. Plantation owners and their pride in their plantations and mansions is just so colonial America. Seton doesn't dwell too much on gory details, yet manages to bring out the situation of slaves succinctly.
The themes of the time – Jacobite struggle, contemptuous
treatment of colonials, slavery in America are all beautifully captured in
their essence. There is not a dull moment in the entire novel. The canvas
stretching from Northumbrian Highlands to London to Virginia is vast and the
pains the author has taken to carefully research each aspect of the story is
self-evident in the flawless narratives.
It is an extremely difficult task to combine thoroughly
researched history and intriguing story into one. Anya Seton has done the job
well. There is definitely a very good storyline but this book is to be enjoyed equally for its portrayal of the times and the flow. It is a book I thoroughly enjoyed and would strongly recommend to anyone
with a little patience to understand the history a bit.
P.S: I have tried to avoid too many details here so as to not give the story away.
Bangalore this year does seem to have a winter. It does indeed, as opposed to last year when it did not show any sign of the winter’s passing. So bad was the situation that I got laughed at for having advised my friends to get their woolens out of the closet, aired and ready for December. Having been in Bangalore for more than a couple of years now, I have to concede, albeit grudgingly, that it does have a cooler weather than many cities in the South, atleast in the winter. All the legends of “hill-station-ish Bangalore of all seasons” are definitely a myth today. But winters do bring a drop in the temperature, mist and the worst of them all, a breeze that can chill you to your bones.
Oh yes! This year there is a royal cold wave sweeping over parts of the country – global warming, etc, etc. Yes, but there is another side to the story as well.
This is the story of my room(respectfully Her Highness, Lady Room hereon) and her teaming up with Her Coldness, Lady Winter. So frustrated has Her Highness been with my almost-nil care for her throughout the year, that she decided to get her revenge.
Let me explain what angered my Lady Room so much. I am a sunny person - I love open windows, bright natural lighting and get absolutely claustrophobic when there is a lack of ventilation. So throughout the year, I left my windows open, day in and day out. The poor windows got battered by the winds so much that one of them lost the keep-it-open hook-latch. Hinges un-oiled and exposed to the elements for 365 days, the windows got the screeching, wheezing voice of an old lady.
With the windows open all day, I guess neither Her Highness nor her maid of honour, my cot, appreciated being cooked by the sun either.
I am lazy when it comes to adding décor of any sort to my walls. In a fit of creativity I add a brightly crayoned mural to the wall then forget all about it. The chart paper loses its sheen; the colors fade and the cello tape peels, yet I happily ignore it. In a moment of josh, I put up a cartoon I sketched and leave it there till the pencil marks nearly disappear. I put up India maps and Krishna pics and let them be till they are yellowed with age. I guess Her Highness did not appreciate my affront to her dignity this way.
From my forays to bookstores, rendezvous with pavement second-hand-bookwallahs, I added more and more books to my sagging bookshelf till my room literally bulged with books. To top it all, I dump loads of things unwanted-but-cant-throw-them-away onto my tiny loft.
Her Highness decided she had had enough. She called up Lady Winter and propositioned her to bring along a breeze that will teach me a lesson. One of my windows doesn’t shut properly you see, the latch(yes, the closing latch too :() doesn’t work.
“And why doesn’t it work?” asks Her Highness in a haughty voice.
Shivering under my blankets, from the bone-numbing breeze that has slipped in through the crack a few mms wide to do Lady Winter’s bidding, I reply miserably, “Yes, yes, Your Highness, it is my fault indeed. The latch is slightly rusted due to my negligence.”
“Slightly!” exclaims Her Highness in a shrill voice.
Then there is a sudden silence.
“No, no.. Rusted, I meant royally rusted.. “ I whimper.
But the damage is done; she has gone to complain to her friend. There is a gust of wind, I hear Lady Winter’s high laughter and suddenly my latch-less window swings wide open, the curtain flaps madly and the temperature in the room drops a bit more. I pull my blankets tighter around me but to no avail.
I struggle up in my bed, free myself of the tangled blankets and with my teeth chattering I reach out of the window into the cruel cold night and pull the window shut. I can hear Her Coldness laughing softly with her maid, Miss. Breeze and her friend Her Highness.
“Please, Your Coldness, I have always loved your visits every year. I look forward to them. And I love coming to the north or the higher altitudes to meet you,” I plead.
“Yet, you ignore my dear friend. Every time you have fun with me, who takes care of you shielding you from my worst?”
“Her Highness. Her Highness and her friends everywhere,” I answer in a whisper.
“You have fun with me cocooned in your blankets, in the warm cozy arms of Her Highness.”
“Yes, Your Coldness,” comes my shivering reply.
Silence reigns.
After a few minutes, I reach up and pull the curtains closed, tuck it into the crack and snuggle back into my blankets.
Needlessly to say, next day my windows are oiled, the rust in the latch scraped away, my dilapidated décor cleared. The day after that my loft is cleaned out, order is restored to my bookshelf and new décor pondered over.
Her Highness is glowing and Lady Winter is my gentle friend again. Lady Winter whispers jokes in my ears on my evening walks, enjoys hot jalebis with me and at the end of the day, softly closes my eyelids and lulls me to sleep under my warm blankets.
If there was an article in The Hindu that I had me
sputtering in shock and disbelief, it was this article in today’s Metro Plus
titled “Peddle Power”. If you have not read the actual article, power politics,
media-politics nexus or something on those lines will probably cross your
mind.
You are totally off the mark my friend. The “Peddle” was
supposed to be “Pedal” actually. We are talking environment conservation here.
Wonder how? Cycle rickshaws! I can hear your “huh” now. Not my idea folks. I
will be at a psychiatric ward before I come up with such an idea. This is the
wonderful idea that purportedly won Ms. Nicole Faria the title of Miss Earth 2010.
Ms. Faria’s reasoning behind the fabulous idea – cycle
rickshaws save fossil fuels and provide employment. And oh! I forgot, they come cheap plus we also get entertainment and tourism guidance as an add-on by way
of chatting with the rickshaw-puller. Can you understand my shock now?
One human hauling another manually is nothing short of
slavery and servitude. I know there exist other forms of exploitation in the
world today. But atleast slavery is something we got rid off, and way back in
the 19th century for that matter. And here we are instead of working
on getting rid of the other evils, talking of getting one back on board. Yes,
we still have the cycle-rickshaws in some parts of our country and that is very
sad. And efforts are on in various quarters to do get rid of the practice.
How can one get away with such a statement? And get awarded
the Miss Earth for that! God Forbid! Where are our Human Rights Organisations
now? Are governments the only ones who will be condemned for human rights
violations?
Almost as an afterthought, there is a mention of
bicycle-renting(or I think that is what she meant) Bicycles and cycle rickshaws
are galaxies apart, one noble and the other deplorable. Does she even know the
difference? I don’t know what to think.
The Hindu of all newspapers published this
“interview”. And made a headline out of that statement and spelt it wrong too!
Please, not The Hindu too, going down the drain L
As I started writing this, I google’d for “Nicole Faria on
cycle rickshaws” and noted with even more shock(if that is possible) that quite
a few news articles had quoted it. I simply cannot believe it. How can this be?
Has everyone lost their head or am I the insane one??
The upcoming year is ridden with challenges for me. Yes, as
the title of the blog post indicates, I am signing up for another Reading
Challenge. This time it is Violet Crush’s “East and South-East Asia Challenge”.
This one has me really excited. I love reading books set in
different cultures and I really look forward to engaging with the EAS(East Asia
Summit) and the ASEAN with this challenge :) My exposure to this part of the world,
though I live pretty much in the immediate neighbourhood, is pretty limited.
“Good Earth” by Pearl S. Buck is the lone representative of this
geography(corporate lingo ;) ) in my “I’ve-read-list”.
And this is not too ambitious a challenge – 3 books is
pretty much the best deal you can get. I am yet to pick my books. I will list
them here later.
1)
2)
3)
& Hopefully a 4)
Or, I will add them in a separate
post – if I am so enamoured with them that I want to rave even before reading
them :)
P.S: Also, this should show you I did not sign up for the
Mystery Challenge only for the ARC :D
2010 has essentially been a messy year for me. I did loads
of things, but many of them haphazardly. And my reading was one of them. I read
with a fury then slacked. I wrote/blogged in spurts, then again slacked.
Determined to rectify my vagrant ways, I am set to welcome 2011 with a vision,
a mission and a challenge!
With my “discovery” of book blogging, I invariably
discovered Reading Challenges. I looked at a whole lot of them, was tempted by
many, but decided to be rational and pick something I can really hope to
complete.
Book Chick City’s “Mystery & Suspense Reading Challenge 2011” is a cool option for various reasons. Mystery is a wonderful genre that
can accommodate variety. The one thing I was skeptical about in participating
in Reading Challenges was that I might get bored with monotony. A Mystery and
Suspense Challenge has no danger of that. Also, twelve books is very doable.
And of course, the offer of an ARC of “The Survivor” by Sean
Slater from Simon & Schuster adds to the pull:P So “Mystery & Suspense
Challenge” here I come!
I have reason to believe every US President is a stimulus of
economic activity in his own right, the reason being the number of books
written on him. And these books are popular regardless of the President’s
popularity or effectiveness. The fascination with the First Ladies seems to be
even more hysterical. I had thought this began with Jackie Kennedy, but it goes
long into the past.
I chanced upon “Lady Washington, The Story of America’s
First First Lady” by Dorothy Clarke Wilson in a Reader’s Digest Condensed
Edition (which I pick up without bothering about the books or summaries,
provided they are pre-1990) volume of 1984. I was intrigued because I was just
reading about the period of the American Independence and its related events.
Set in Virginia, the initial part of the book reads almost
like fiction set in colonial America. There is not too much about the
plantations, trade and related issues of the time. The focus is on the
households of the plantation owners, socializing and the Colonial Assemblies
that are more social affairs than political. Martha’s character buildup is
quick and not very colorful.
Once George Washington comes into the picture, political
events make themselves felt but only mildly. The author takes great care to
ensure the book does not deviate into political waters or turn onto Washington.
Washington is always viewed in Martha’s eyes. The author deserves credit for
her focus here.
Contrary to my expectations that the book would become more
interesting with the Declaration of independence, confrontation with Britain
and the Presidency, it progressively became monotonous and slow.
Always following Martha, the writing style is very dry and
often feels like a chronology than a story. As we go on, one can almost predict
the sentences. There are repetitive phrases like “.. and his arms were around
her.” every time Martha meets Washington after a separation. The lives of
Washingtons seem to scattered with deaths of dear ones – they are also
mentioned in the same fashion over and over again. Another lacking aspect is
that there is very little on her interactions with her friends and contemporaries.
They are mentioned only in passing, only exception being her first interaction
Mary Washington, George’s mother.
Washington is portrayed reluctant to be in public affairs
all the time. And Martha in the vortex
of it all, has no leaning towards any political ideology or opinion. She remains only a devoted and
supportive wife for a very long time. While she has won the affection and
admiration of the people by her unassuming self and good-naturedness, it is
only at the end of his first Presidency that she actually realizes the
significance of her position as First Lady. Even her caring for his soldiers is
the duty of a wife to her husband’s affairs not patriotism.
The book in its devotion to correct chronicling of events
misses out on innovation in writing. The narration of six years of Washington’s
campaigns seems almost as tiring to the reader as the actual campaigns were to
Lady Washington.
The book is a glorifying account of the life of Martha Washington and is all praise for George Washington's devotion to his country and modesty. It fails to make any mention of, or rather diligently avoids, the controversies surrounding the Washingtons, esp with regard to slavery. It only mentions that George Washington sets his slaves free in his will. This was either a bad condensation(it is thick enough with 175 pages) that did not capture the
essence of the book very well or the book itself has been written in a plain
style. The book can be called informative at best, but netiher a very engaging read nor a non-partisan account. It
can be read for its history – one who is ignorant of American independence
history might find it useful and even a light way of understanding the sequence
of events.
As I stretch out listening to BBC podcasts subscriptions, I
send a silent prayer to bless the developers of Miro yet again for the handy
tool. As to my friends here, I have not forgotten my promise to write about my
other discovery this week. In fact, this has been quite the “discovery” week.
But I will not reveal my other web-treks as yet – yes, they are mostly
cyber-world discoveries. I will save them for future posts ;)
“Discovering” Book Blogging almost three years after my baby
steps into the world of blogging, does throw into sharp relief what an amateur
I still am ;) Another irony of this discovery is that, my first blog post ever
was a book review! One would have thought I would be a veteran in book
blogging! Well, things did not progress on that front as you can see. I spent
too much time racking my brains and keeping my eyes peeled for things around me
to blog about, that I missed what has always been close to my heart. Sure, I
have blogged about books and bookstores. But I never got into mainstream book
blogging. This is not to say I will stop boring you with these musings :P and
do only book reviews hereon, but I do intend to make an attempt at reviewing.
A lot of the book blogs I looked at were semi-professional –
there was a proper book review policy, reviews done on books picked up from the
store as well as on requisition by author, etc. I am not aiming to get into the
high-flying league though. Even I am not that deluded you see ;) My reviewing
will be mostly for my own sake. I went back and re-read my first post and my
only book review in history. I remember the pleasure I experienced writing it,
my first piece of writing that was not a school essay or exam paper. And it
helped me refresh my memory about the book beautifully and inspired me to pick
up a book from my to-be-read stack as well. And that is reason enough for me to
try book blogging!
I am just a couple of days away from my longest vacation in
these three years – two weeks, yay! That doesn’t necessarily mean I am too
harassed with work, yet I have never taken such a long stretch off and it is a
luxury not to be bothered with checking mail every morning and evening. The
off-side of a long vacation usually means an overflowing inbox on the day back
which can drain away all the bubbling enthusiasm(even if half the mails are
official, company-generated spam). But this time I need not even spare a
thought to that, cos it is Christmas season and not too many mails would flood
in(even spam might take a break!).
Ok, before anyone who knows my plans for the “vacation”
reminds me it is not going to be all sleep and fun(in that order), I know, I know…
But it is still a luxury not to worry about the mailbox, don’t you agree? :D
I am a couple of days away from my vacation, with loads on
my plate, official and otherwise, to finish off before then. Yet, being the
vagabond that I am, I did not stick to what needs to be done and went on to
explore… well, quite a few things. And yes, writing this entry is another thing
that is not really required to be done at this point of time, but don’t remind
me please! That said, I will move on to my real topic.
The first discovery that I made this week was Miro! I know
this discovery is not going to win me the Nobel, but it is important to me.
Read on to find out why. The path that took me to Miro was BBC, blame the stiff
Britons ;) Wandering all over TamilNadu last week, I missed following the news
so much, that I went digging into all the news sites I frequent, both regularly
and haphazardly. BBC podcasts beckoned and I was frustrated that the last time
I had followed two consecutive episodes of one of my favourites “From Our Own
Correspondent” was in August. And I was on the road only last week, so that was
not an excuse. I decided it was high time I got “something” to organize my
favourite audios for me, since I was not getting anywhere with the job myself.
So I went hunting for “podcatchers”, the of course, in the
very top was “Google Reader” which I immediately vetoed. Google knew too much
of me already(this blog included) without knowing my news and music tastes as
well. iTunes was up there too. I hesitated a few minutes before I decided to
give it a try. I am not a fan of Apple’s proprietary products, and only
grudgingly do I admit that I love my iPod. I convinced myself that having come
up with the iPod in the first place, Apple deserved a chance. So with that very
noble reasoning I set out to try and configure iTunes with a sample feed. It
refused to connect to the web. Excellent, that is it! I decided and struck that
option off my list. Alright, I was just waiting for an excuse to get rid of the
iTunes option, so what? I had never been a fan of iTunes and the reason I even
had it on my laptop was only that worked with my iPod Shuffle(courtesy of IBM).
With the two recognizable choices off my list, I was now
faced with Miro, Nimiq, Juice and a few others. I played around with the idea
of having a web-based podcatcher, something that would just keep track of my
preferences in one place –on the web, not on my laptop. Of course, it had its
drawbacks, but atleast it would save space on my already overcrowded harddisk.
But I did not get a decent enough option, or maybe I did not look properly
enough.
Anyway, I was now left with only the regular podcatchers.
Miro looked cute(atleast the red sheep logo did) and the features seemed
sufficient for my limited requirements. I hit the download button and forgot
all about it for the next few hours. When I realized there was a dialog box
open waiting for me to approve the install, I clicked the “Yes” and decided I
would configure it ASAP, no IMMEDIATELY. Otherwise it would be another couple
of months before I got to it.
Once installed, I saw it was a simple interface, nothing too
fancy - a sidebar that listed the podcasts and a bigger right pane that gave
the details of each one when clicked upon along with the Download and Play
buttons. Adding feeds was simple and it somehow seemed to know when I copied a
RSS link to my clipboard. Auto-download options were easy to configure and
sensible, though the “Keep outdated items” options of 0, 20,50, and 100
appeared to be on the clumsy side. More importantly, it had an option to pause
Auto-download when the number of unplayed items hit a threshold. That is
crucial, for I am sure I will not listen to all the feeds I
over-enthusiastically subscribe to and like I mentioned earlier, space on my
disk is a problem.
I do realize that these features are simple and probably present on most
podcatchers, but I am happy with it. Too bad it does not have a facility to
follow Text/webpage RSS feeds as well. I have tried many and discarded and am
yet to find a FeedReader I really like. And oh, I forgot! Miro is targeted at
video-playing and it is not their fault if a primitive like me bothers about plain RSS feeds.
My next discovery is Book blogging! The discovery is still
in progress and will be updated soon…. Till then happy no-crypticrunes time!
(What else do I say when I bore you faithful readers with a drab post on podcatchers
and my non-specific vacation plans :P)
Myself and a couple of friends strolled out on a beautiful
Sunday evening with a chillness in the air that brought to my mind the fabled
Bangalore climate of yesteryears, and for us just the climate for an ice cream.
A few delightful scoops at Corner House later, we were on our meandering way
trying to hit the vicinity of MG road to board a bus. We were due to be present
at Jnana Jyothi Convention Centre, Central College campus the occasion being
the “In praise of Vitthala, Abhangs by Aruna Sairam”.
It was to be my first live music concert of any genre or
form. My appreciation for and limited knowledge of Carnatic music is completely
attributed to my friend Saranya. I literally had no ear for music before I
entered my engineering course, the best I could do was recognize the most
popular tunes of Tamil Cine Music. I was afterall the genius who unabashedly
hazarded Ganagaiamaran as a guess in a quiz when asked to identify the voice in
a classic carnatic rendition by Balamurali Krishna. In the numerous mini-concerts
we had in our hostel room, Sarani would sing to us and explain not just the
nuances of the music, but also the lyrics when rendering Sanskrit or Telugu kirthis.
Her favourite vocalist Aruna Sairam slowly became my favourite singer too for
her lively renderings.
So that said, a concert by Aruna Sairam under the aegis of Novemberfest
by The Hindu was a tempting proposition. The concert was on a Sunday evening.
All seemed perfect, save one small glitch – Abhangs, sung
in praise of Vitthala, the deity at Pandharpur in Maharashtra, were Marathi and my
Marathi-knowledgeable friend was out of town on the concert date. Well, I of
course know music is languageless, etc, but I usually prefer to understand atleast
the theme of a song to appreciate it better. Nevertheless, I decided to go for
it and I am extremely glad I did.
We landed at 7.15 pm on the dot and settled into our seats.
The auditorium was three-fourths full and we looked like the only ones under
forty there, not that we minded it.Given that the concerts lined up under Novemberfest ranged
from Abhangs to Hindi Retro to African-Rock, the décor was contemporary
and tastefully done. For the evening’s concert, a raised platform was setup in
a semi-circle and the instruments in place. The audio by Bose was of course
impeccable.
The instrumentalists who were to accompany the vocalist were
introduced. The artistes manned instruments ranging from the regular gadham,
mirdhangam, violin, tambura to some unconventional ones - a drum of sorts
and some others Icannot identify by name. The star of the evening walked in draped in a blue and green
Kanchipuram saree and folded her hands in a namaste
bowing to the audience. Before she let her powerful voice sing the praises of
Vitthala, she gave the audience an introduction to the varkari sampradaya,
the pilgrimages to the Pandharpur and the devout, simple peasant men and women
for whom devotion to Vitthala transcended everything else. Arunaji encouraged
the audience to treat the evening not as a concert but as an experience and
invited everyone to sing along, clap and dance if one felt like it.
Abhangs are a unique blend of folk and traditional
devotional styles and Arunaji’s singing was in keeping with the style and
spirit of the music. The renditions were lively and soulful. She moved from one
song to the next with ease, interspersing them with anecdotes and insights into
the culture and lives of the originators of this unique genre of music. As she spoke, her perfect
diction was a delight to hear.
The songs were highly energetic and the high-energy
performances seemed to only increase the enthusiasm of the performers and not
once did Arunaji appear tired. About halfway through the concert, Arunaji and
her instrumentalists requested lights in the audience section be turned on, so that the
artistes could see the reaction of the audience and connect with them. She
mentioned again what she has stated time and again in her concerts - the audience were the source of energy for
the performing artistes.
As the evening progressed, audience vied with each other to
request songs close to their hearts. Arunaji cheerfully obliged and her
trademark renditions of Maadu Mekkum kanne, Bhaktajana vatsale, etc filled
the hall. We overran the concert schedule and requests still kept coming in. Arunaji finally had to entreat the
audience to trust her judgement and let her go back to her original planned
sequence for the final renditions to bring the evening to closure.
What I loved most about this concert was the range of songs
– Abhangs by Sants Gyandev, Tukaram and others of course were the
central theme, but also rendered were bhajan-type namasankeertham from
south, a Meera bhajan, a rendition dedicated to Kolhapur Goddess Saraswathi
and Bengali and Gujarathi songs.
A proper or more precise listing of the songs can be found
here, so I will not list them here in detail. I would like to focus instead on
the spirit behind the compilation of the song sequence. The journey to
Pandharpur took a unique route, through Gujarat, Rajasthan, Bengal and even
Thirupathi. The sheer expanse of the Indian subcontinent covered by the
renditions was a marvel in itself. Integration of a nation as multi-faceted as
India can only be achieved and developed by an equally multi-faceted approach –
democracy, arts, law, sports, etc need to come together. If there is a single
thread or theme in the history of our country it is definitely the assimilation
of cultures and traditions. We have always welcomed with open arms and generous
hearts, the communalism that troubles us today is largely a “modern”
manifestation. This rich history of cultural growth comes from people who
studied and embraced without inhibition, languages, cultures and arts of people
other than their own region or community. And it is this unique aspect that one
seems to miss in our present times. How many of us would even know of Kohlapur or Gondhali folk if it wasn’t for this concert?
Music is indeed boundless and boundaryless; music brings people
together. And we need people like Aruna Sairam to realize this power of music.
And even more so in these troubled times, to show us how close we Indians
really are to each other. For this alone, my salutations to Arunaji!
It has been over a couple of weeks since the
concert, but the music and the atmosphere remain with me. An evening I will
always remember…
This should have been posted long ago, it has been lying around in my writings folder for over two weeks now....
The World Economic Forum’s India Economic Summit had some
intriguing topics and good discussions. Though the event was streamed live on
the web, I got to follow it only on the last day. I am excited about some of
the topics on the previous days and looking forward to listening to the
recordings soon.
The discussion I tuned into was “What kind of super power
will India be?” It is a very interesting topic for many reasons. With a panel
consisting of members from the media, NGOs, industry and the Planning Commission,
it was a balanced and well-informed discussion. With India’s growing economic
clout since the recession, India Inc’s confident ventures from Africa to the US
and great strides in various fields, the once unheard-of usage of “India” and
“super power” in the same sentence, is commonplace now. With the UNSC seat
debates, G20 meet, RIC trilaterals, recently concluded CWG and Obama’s visit
and his “emerged India” comments along with the newly assertive Indian PM’s
comments, “super power” is indeed the new fab word.
A discussion on a similar topic a couple of years ago would
have been titled “Will India emerge a super power?” So, the very title of the
discussion says a lot about the lines of thought of Indians as well as the
light in which the rest of the world looks at India.
Yet, the topic is slightly hazy. One of my first thoughts on
coming across the topic was “What is a super power?” And the question was
reflected in the discussion quite a lot.
What indeed makes a super power? Is it economic clout?
Military might? Political or geographical reasons? Nik from BBC made a
fantastic point when he noted Soviet Union was a military giant, but its
finances were in a mess. Indeed, it was its financial position that pulled down
the Soviet Union from its super power status, but it did manage to be a super
power long enough without corresponding finances. And the world not being what
it was, say, 50 years earlier, it is hard to define what makes up a super
power. Today’s world is multi-polar as opposed to the bi-polar or uni-polar
world earlier. Almost every country has leverage in one way or another. And one
single country is no longer able to dictate terms to any other country as a
super-power in a traditional sense should be able to. There is of course, the USA
trying to having a finger in every pie, but it is proving increasing difficult,
and not just with China.
And many answers came up, a prosperous nation, one that can
defend itself against external aggression, one that clubs both the
above-mentioned, etc.
Talking about defending oneself, in today’s world aggression
doesn’t mean just territorial aggression – pressures on the trade front,
external political pressures, disarmament treaties, all of these can amount to
aggression. So having said that, now the task of defining a super-power becomes
a little easier. A super-power, I would say, is a country that can hold its own
in matters it considers important to her own welfare.
Sudha Pillai, Member, Planning Commission, said in her
quiet, dignified tone that India will be a “soft” super-power. One may not at
first instance like the idea of “soft”, it need not be taken to mean that India
will not be assertive. It means India will indeed be assertive, without being
aggressive. In fact, that is what India actions embody even now from the
climate summit to the NPT. What Sudha Pillai meant to say was that India would
be assertive of her rights, but not force any other country unduly.
If we were to take my explanation of super-power, then India
has always been a super-power – able to hold its own in the international
arena. But then consensus doesn’t prevail that we ARE a super power. Where to
we lag? We are yet to meet some of our needs satisfactorily. And we have been
forced to appease and flatter some countries time and again.
If we were to take the explanation in a narrow sense, every
country that doesn’t let anyone else dictate terms will be a super power, and
that will include rogue nations. So, a super power should be one that will be
able to influence other nations substantially in matters of international
interest.
This ability to influence is dwindling down slowly for the
powerful nations of the day. Being a one-way process, “influence” is not much
desired today. Also, the line between “influence” and “aggression” is very
thin. So what would be desirable for a super power is ability to bring about
cohesion – a much-needed attribute in today’s world, which is ridden with trade
imbalances and where protectionism seems a tempting option. So, the dynamics of
world affairs today is such that a super power would be one that can bring
about cohesion in international affairs.
This is closest to a comprehensive, defining definition of
“super power” I am able to come up with – A nation that can hold its own in the
international arena and one that can bring about cohesion in international
affairs will be the super power of tomorrow. India is inching closer to this
definition, from the Climate summits to G20s, India is emerging a driving force
rather than a participatory one. That said, it would suffice to say India would
be a next-gen super power, “soft” or otherwise is quite irrelevant.
The question of whether the world has space for just one or
more than one super power is another one :)
The morning of 24th
Oct dawned bright and clear.. probably.. well, it was a bright and sunny day
and we will assume it did dawn so, I wouldn’t know for I was deep asleep then
;) Maami was the poruppana ponnu, she woke up at about 6.00 AM
and took her bath before myself and Nithi deigned to wake. Even 6.00 AM was a
late hour to wake up when you have to attend a South-Indian Muhurtham,
but thankfully for us, the auspicious hour was 9.00 –10.00 AM. We dressed up in
saris, adorned our trinkets and flowers and started to the mandapam.
Being the early bird, Maami had reached there a little earlier. Thendral
was quite ready and waiting for her muhurtha-pattu to be brought in.
The bride’s room was even
more fun-filled than the previous day, Gowri akka, anni and the
three of us pulled Thendral’s leg and she gave a good number of “natural”, read
blushing, poses for the photographer. Muhurtha pudavai, traditionally
given by the groom’s side was brought in and by 9.15 AM, Thendral was ready to
proceed to the manavarai.
With Mrs. & Mr. Durai Pandi
We were quite ravenous by
now, but we knew from our experience at Baskar anna’s wedding that the
actual ritual lasted barely two minutes. So we couldn’t risk sneaking into the
dining hall. We loitered near the manavarai and clicked a few pictures.
Soon it was too crowded to click pictures and we did not want to stand right at
the front and block the view for the other guests. But Maami, our
never-say-die girl wouldn’t give up, she hopped on to the stage and squeezed in
beside the official photographer and clicked pictures. It was official now;
Miss Thendral Muthusamy was now Mrs Thendral Durai Pandi.
The elders and guests
lined up to bless the newly-wed couple. Thendral and Durai had quite a time
touching the elders' feet for blessings. We now looked around and spotted our
gang right at the very back of the hall. VP, Prasad, Vivek M.E(bar)@ Maapu, Muthu @ Solo, Baskar and
Vijayakumar senior were the MIT CS gang that had made it to the wedding. We had
already met the family people a few minutes before – Reemaa, Priya and their
respective husbands, Satish and his wife.
Pongal session started in full earnest. It started off
with deceptively mild how-are-you-s, and then progressively turned into riotous
fun. Our 8-point-someone Maapu M.E(bar/overline), Maami, and unfortunately, me :( were the center of ootals. They wouldn’t
let me forget the seminar I had given at MIT a couple of days back, and I was
branded dhrohi:). Also, I will not deny that I thanked my stars our
8.5er VivekM.E(bar) had missed the seminar. Finally, the crowd near the stage
thinned out a bit and we made our way to the stage, wished the couple and
handed over gifts.
Not the ones to miss a
feast, the guys had finished a good breakfast earlier. But we poor girls had no
such luck, so we insisted we finish our lunch before we made our next move. We
finished a delicious traditional Chettinadu lunch, and over ice creams,
we made plans to visit the famous Chettinadu palaces/mansions around
Karaikudi after a short stop at the hotel to freshen up.
A little past noon, all of
us with the exception of sincere Oracle’r Baskar were ready to explore the Chettinadu,
C/o our official guide, Muthu. We hired an auto and our convoy of auto and
Indica was on the road headed towards to the Chettinadu Royal Mansion of
Rajah Annamalai Chettiar’s lineage. The ride was fun; the winding road was well
laid and flanked by fields of cashew trees and other plants, no traffic and no
requirements for screeching braking.
Chettinadu Mansion
Though often seen in
movies, the splendour of the mansion was still awe-inspiring. Two more or less
identical mansions stood side by side. One was being occupied by the members of
the extended family and was private. The other was generally open to public
viewing, but recently due to some reasons, it was closed. One needed
connections and recommendations to get in. Fortunately for us, our VP knew some
political VIP, or his father did, which was lucky for us. I doubt we would have
been able to get in otherwise.
As we stepped inside the
entrance gate, the first thing that struck us was the coolness of the place as
opposed to the scorching sun outside. We fell in love with the huge pillars,
the cool flooring tiles that were unique to Chettinadu and the massive
door under an ornate threshold immediately. All this before we had even stepped
in. Once inside, the main hall was a exhibition of sorts – huge portraits of
the eminent members of the family – all easily recognizable names, a man-sized
mirror flanked by a pair of huge ivory tusks polished to a shine, a smaller
mirror on a table flanked by a pair or minutely carved tusks, an elephant’s
preserved foot, many intricate wooden and metal sculptures, a showcase of
graduation-type gowns – this was after all the home of family that founded a
university, Annamalai University, and many other framed citations. When we had
finished gawking at the exhibits and the painted ceiling that was two floors
high and stained glass windows, we stepped over another huge threshold and we
were in the courtyard that was the trademark of Chettinadu style of
architecture.
Solo Muthu @ royal courtyard
The concept of courtyards
is difficult to explain in words to someone not ethnically South-Indian, but I
do not think I need to spend too much time here. The courtyard was long with a
wide corridor running around it, from where doors opened into rooms on every side. The
building was two-storeyed and we made our way up the stairs to the upper
corridor that housed the private quarters of the senior members of the family.
The rooms were locked and the police guard informed us that some valuable items
were locked in there. Good thing the stunt Vivek and Prasad tried did not
trigger the burglar alarms fitted on the doors.
Stunt
Leading from the first
courtyard was another courtyard. These courtyards were where the photo sessions
started :) Vivek was keen on his mission of “no-solos” and
Prasad would very obligingly click pictures of someone, then instruct that
person to click a similar picture of him. :)
Nattaama...
Our next stop was at
Kalathupalayam. For that ride we abandoned our auto and rode in the Innova that
our VIP escort had provided. The AC ride was a pleasant interlude after the anal-kathu
ride earlier. The facade of the mansion was not too promising except for
the 3D effect sculpture above the main doorway. But the minute we stepped in,
we were impressed even more than we had been with the Chettinadu
mansion. The main hall here was blank and we could admire the tiles and ceiling
better. This house had an upper corridor to the main hall as well. The bonus
here was that one of the rooms was open. It had a huge cot and dressing table.
The cot had a kind of rotating apparatus with a mirror on one side and a
painting on another at both ends. The ceiling was of wood and the wood
everywhere was beautifully polished.
Next we explored the
courtyard. Here our Chettinadu-karan Muthu explained the use of
this courtyard for weddings and pujas. The photo session here was centred
around the pillars and was great fun. From the upper corridors, there was a
provision to go to the open terrace as well. Standing on the terrace, we saw
palatial mansions on every side – some inhabited, some locked, all in the same
style –built around courtyards, but each had it’s own unique features we were
told.
Now our guide was starting
to get tensed as we were getting late, his endearments urging us to finish our
photo-shoots faster fell on deaf ears. Finally, he managed to shoo us out of
the house and we went on to Athangudi.
Muthu was related to one
of the owners of the Athangudi house and this was where he had spent most of
his childhood vacations. We even got to see his childhood cricket pitch in the
entrance verandah of the house and the “stumps” drawn on the wall :)
While the previous
mansions had been purely Indian, this house had some elements of Anglo-Roman
architecture – some of the wall paintings had modern elements like trains, etc
and were often flanked by baby angels with wings and such. The intricacy of
paintings and tiles was more pronounced here and the doors had mirror and inlay
work in them. Each hall had a story painted as a mural series in the arches
above the windows. Some of the paintings were pointed out as made of
herbal-based paints. To the right and left of the courtyard, apart from the
rooms, there opened a long room running the entire length of the house,
presumably a dining hall for the functions and festivals. We could almost
imagine long lines of men and women dining there on banana leaves, enjoying a
traditional Chettinadu feast.
Fun at Athangudi house
We couldn’t help but
wonder at how such huge mansions had been lived in and maintained. In earlier
days, there would have probably been a bustling life there with people
occupying almost all parts of the house. Now, the members of the family stayed
in smaller quarters on either sides of the main mansion.
Our “palace” tour done, we
sauntered to the tea-shop next door and sipped hot tea. Our “cheers” picture
with the plastic and glass tumblers invited a few laughs, but then, when
have we cared about all that? :)
Our time at Karaikudi was
almost up, atleast for us girls. I had to board the bus to Bangalore at 8.45
and Nithi and Indu had to catch their train at 8.30. The guys bound to Chennai
had till 11 pm before they had to get on their train. So we had barely 2.5
hours to pack up, visit Muthu’s place, have dinner and start. Also, Nithi had
to visit her periappa’s house and I wanted to visit one of our senior’s
house nearby.
We packed at top speed and
then Nithi rushed to her uncle’s place and I walked down to Ananthu senior’s
home that was just down the lane. I had never met his parents earlier, but he
had called ahead to say I was coming. Uncle and Aunty were easy to talk to and
I had a good time chatting with them about MIT, senior and his friends, etc.
Uncle showed me albums – family albums, and albums that senior had, they were
fun to look at, especially those of MIT days. We even spotted a couple of pics
of me in my first year :) I wish I had more time to look at all the albums
at leisure, but we were pressed for time and I had already gotten a call from
Nithi to get back soon as we were running late. So I said my byes and rushed
back to the hotel room.
With just an hour and half
to go, we reached Muthu’s house that was again only a hundred metres or so from
our hotel. Muthu’s home was a charming house of traditional Chettinadu
architecture. We looked around the house and saw an album of his younger days –
we couldn’t resist clicking a picture of one or two photos in the album :) We hardly had any time to spend there. Aunty
served us girls dinner while VP and Muthu went to get the famous Karaikudi kaimurukku
for all of us to carry home. I have said a lot here about the food already,
but I cannot leave out Aunty’s excellent dinner preparation. Sweet sevai,
idli and kolumbu were simply heavenly. As we chatted, Aunty kept
replenishing our plates and we had to plead that we really couldn’t have more before she stopped serving us :) Dinner done, we
got our blessings from Muthu’s patti and bade our goodbyes to Uncle,
Aunty and Muthu’s brother Natchiappan and left.
Nithi and Indu were in a
hurry now as it was over 8.00 PM. They rushed to the station. I lugged my bags
down more slowly and made my way to the ABT office just across the road,
bidding goodbye to the guys. Baskar finally materialized out of his hotel room
and appeared at the ABT office as well.
Thendral’s friends from Siemens, Gowri akka, Saravanan anna, Baskar
and myself stood around chatting with Baskar anna for a few minutes. We
got on the bus and much to the despair of Gowri akka,Baskar was
in the seat right before her. And he faithfully promised to do his best to keep
her awake with his telephonic-working that night as well :) Thankfully, for both of us, he did not have to
take a call that night. Narayana, Janani and myself chatted for a while till we
reached Trichy at about 11 PM. Divya, who was feeling queasy, had also
recovered by then and slowly we drifted off to sleep.
I guess it is high time I updated this.. Hmm.. Well, "About me" has never really been my strong point.... I have a choice here, I can ramble till I hit the 1200 char limit or I can let you get on with my blog posts and frame your own idea.. The latter sounds better, what do you say?
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