Monday 31 October 2011
Tuesday 25 October 2011
DIWALI - 26TH OCTOBER
Keats' 'Ode to Autumn' ran through my head....'Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness'
Autumn in India is hot, at least 36C every day, there are no mists and nothing mellow about it, but there is fruitfulness ! It is Diwali, and all the sweet shops have extended their premises with plastic awnings to provide extra shop floor space for the boxes and boxes of gift wrapped dried fruit and nuts and hand made sweets covered in edible silver.
Mobile carts line the streets offering bags of coloured sand for sale at 5 rupees - a myriad of brightly coloured heaps of colour - irresistibly bright - it is traditional to decorate the floor in front of your door with a rangoli design of welcome to your guests and also to the Goddess Lakshmi, the bringer of wealth.
Buildings are draped in lights, the smell of hot ghee is everywhere, streets are jammed with people, beggars and shoppers, cars hoot, auto-rickshaw drivers spit - this is the razzmatazz of Diwali - "will you be open on 26th October?" I ask, "Yes, of course, that is when we make the most money" comes the reply. Diwali is followed by New Year and I know what everyone will be wishing ! May the Goddess Lakshmi be with you always !
Autumn in India is hot, at least 36C every day, there are no mists and nothing mellow about it, but there is fruitfulness ! It is Diwali, and all the sweet shops have extended their premises with plastic awnings to provide extra shop floor space for the boxes and boxes of gift wrapped dried fruit and nuts and hand made sweets covered in edible silver.
Mobile carts line the streets offering bags of coloured sand for sale at 5 rupees - a myriad of brightly coloured heaps of colour - irresistibly bright - it is traditional to decorate the floor in front of your door with a rangoli design of welcome to your guests and also to the Goddess Lakshmi, the bringer of wealth.
Buildings are draped in lights, the smell of hot ghee is everywhere, streets are jammed with people, beggars and shoppers, cars hoot, auto-rickshaw drivers spit - this is the razzmatazz of Diwali - "will you be open on 26th October?" I ask, "Yes, of course, that is when we make the most money" comes the reply. Diwali is followed by New Year and I know what everyone will be wishing ! May the Goddess Lakshmi be with you always !
Sunday 16 October 2011
EX PAT LADIES' WALK
If we'd had sunshades and gloves, we could have been a group of ladies from the last century. We had gathered for a short cultural walk through the neighbourhood of Alkapuri, the oldest suburb and the most exclusive in Vadodara. Largely dating from the 1930s, most of the old houses in the street, were in the style of Art Deco. Keeping strictly to the point of our 'cultural walk', we looked at the typical geometric shapes and colours of the buildings, talked about the influence of cubism and futurism and pondered the history of India at this time. Our conversation drifted to Gandhi and his Salt March in 1930, the growing Nationalism in India, the rise of Bollywood and talking movies, the influence of modernism in the world at large and the optimism which arose after the First World War and then went global. After Miami and Shanghai, Mumbai has the most examples of Art Deco architecture in the world.
Pausing to look at a garden, made up largely of bonsai trees, we watched as the owner grafted different coloured flowers onto a 'desert rose', so that it would bloom in a variety of shades ! Our next stop was the Bishop's House. A lovely shady garden and in the centre a marble Madonna and Child protected by a canopy and economy light bulb, for nighttime illumination ! Outside a sign said 'God is Love'. We knocked and asked if the Bishop was at home. Leaving our shoes at the front door, we were shown into his living room. He told us of the difficulties of being Christian in a largely Hindu State - he talked of persecution & the difficulties of conversion, which requires special permission from local authorities and is not simply a matter of faith. We sipped our glasses of water - the house was built in the 1950s - they had bought it for a song in the 1960s and it is now very valuable, as land prices escalate, and India forges ahead with its double digit growth rate.
Our final stop was the home of a local lady, who had lived in the area for 40 years. Our hostess offered glasses of fresh orange juice, as we sank down gratefully on her soft sofas, under a large ceiling fan. It was winter but the temperature outside was 36C. She told us about the way the property developers were buying up land to build multi storey apartment blocks, trees were being cut down and replaced by a concrete jungle. The large homes of 40 years ago, had been torn down and converted into shopping malls in the last 10 years and now the smaller homes were similarly being torn down to provide housing for many.
The riots in 2002, when there was terrible bloodshed and violence between Hindus and Moslems, seemed hard to believe, sitting in her serene sitting room, the cries of terror which came from the nearby slums and the curfew which was imposed on everyone at the time, seemed an alien idea. "The curfew brought us together as a neighbourhood" she said "we couldn't go out at all and getting milk and eggs was very difficult".
Our two-hour walk had brought into focus, the past, the present and the future - shaped by ideology, politics and most of all, economics.
Pausing to look at a garden, made up largely of bonsai trees, we watched as the owner grafted different coloured flowers onto a 'desert rose', so that it would bloom in a variety of shades ! Our next stop was the Bishop's House. A lovely shady garden and in the centre a marble Madonna and Child protected by a canopy and economy light bulb, for nighttime illumination ! Outside a sign said 'God is Love'. We knocked and asked if the Bishop was at home. Leaving our shoes at the front door, we were shown into his living room. He told us of the difficulties of being Christian in a largely Hindu State - he talked of persecution & the difficulties of conversion, which requires special permission from local authorities and is not simply a matter of faith. We sipped our glasses of water - the house was built in the 1950s - they had bought it for a song in the 1960s and it is now very valuable, as land prices escalate, and India forges ahead with its double digit growth rate.
Our final stop was the home of a local lady, who had lived in the area for 40 years. Our hostess offered glasses of fresh orange juice, as we sank down gratefully on her soft sofas, under a large ceiling fan. It was winter but the temperature outside was 36C. She told us about the way the property developers were buying up land to build multi storey apartment blocks, trees were being cut down and replaced by a concrete jungle. The large homes of 40 years ago, had been torn down and converted into shopping malls in the last 10 years and now the smaller homes were similarly being torn down to provide housing for many.
The riots in 2002, when there was terrible bloodshed and violence between Hindus and Moslems, seemed hard to believe, sitting in her serene sitting room, the cries of terror which came from the nearby slums and the curfew which was imposed on everyone at the time, seemed an alien idea. "The curfew brought us together as a neighbourhood" she said "we couldn't go out at all and getting milk and eggs was very difficult".
Our two-hour walk had brought into focus, the past, the present and the future - shaped by ideology, politics and most of all, economics.
Saturday 15 October 2011
THE AGENT
Ravi, the agent, came from an area between Mt Abu and Jodhpur in Rajasthan. They look different to the locals - perhaps because of their proud history of Royal Maharajas and their close links with the Mughals. They are generally tall with refined features and upright bearing.
Ravi, was a big man in every sense, but somehow I could also picture him as a corpulent Regency Gentleman in a Jane Austen novel, dressed in pink satin breeches, ruffles at his throat, cut away jacket, stockings, leather shoes and buckles, appearing at soirees - the lovable duffer, saying all the wrong things and being scolded for his silliness.
Now I sat before him, asking with some curiosity about my elusive neighbour in the flat above, his perfectly round eyes were serious, as he looked at me intently, after a pause and with precise diction, as if he were going to tell me, that she had a PhD in Astro-Physics, or alternatively that she was employed by the CIA, he delivered this astonishing coup de grace, with the utmost gravity: "she.....has.....a....small...cat".
Ravi, was a big man in every sense, but somehow I could also picture him as a corpulent Regency Gentleman in a Jane Austen novel, dressed in pink satin breeches, ruffles at his throat, cut away jacket, stockings, leather shoes and buckles, appearing at soirees - the lovable duffer, saying all the wrong things and being scolded for his silliness.
Now I sat before him, asking with some curiosity about my elusive neighbour in the flat above, his perfectly round eyes were serious, as he looked at me intently, after a pause and with precise diction, as if he were going to tell me, that she had a PhD in Astro-Physics, or alternatively that she was employed by the CIA, he delivered this astonishing coup de grace, with the utmost gravity: "she.....has.....a....small...cat".
Thursday 13 October 2011
THE GEM DEALER OF RAJASTHAN
The car could only get a certain distance down the road, as it became narrower and busier with the usual chaos of Indian street life. A turn into an even narrower and busier street, full of beeping motor bikes and auto-rickshaws, led through a maze of shops, animals, and people, cramped and crowded. A man appeared from nowhere - apparently our guide to Daya's shop - we followed him as he ducked and dived through the crowds. We turned left through a gateway - a cow blocked our path - we manoeuvred gingerly past and into a small courtyard - could this possibly be the way to the famous 'Daya', gem king of Rajasthan ? "Yes, yes" - our guide pointed to a small door with a curtain hanging in front of it.
Daya, had been a Brahman Priest, but had decided to become a gem dealer, in order to make money and realise his dream of building a temple. His face was inscrutable and calm, he sat cross legged behind his counter and invited us to enter. Shoes were removed, cushions brought out for us to sit on, tea was offered. We wanted to see gems and he was a wholesale dealer.
Turquoises at first - beautiful stones which glittered in the light, then as he warmed to the task, packets of stones were unwrapped, strings of rubies, emeralds, saphires, then the lesser known stones spinell, topaz, lapis lazuli, peridot. The heap of stones grew larger. Two Italian designers dropped in and were soon engrossed in looking and selecting for their shops abroad. There was a constant flow of customers and vendors - packets of stones, packets of money, millions of rupees in bundles - the counter became the stage in this theatre production of money and gems - the dialogue was clarity, size, purity, rarity and price......"I buy and sell all day, every day from 9.00 a.m. to 9.00 p.m." he said simply - "it's a passion"
Daya, had been a Brahman Priest, but had decided to become a gem dealer, in order to make money and realise his dream of building a temple. His face was inscrutable and calm, he sat cross legged behind his counter and invited us to enter. Shoes were removed, cushions brought out for us to sit on, tea was offered. We wanted to see gems and he was a wholesale dealer.
Turquoises at first - beautiful stones which glittered in the light, then as he warmed to the task, packets of stones were unwrapped, strings of rubies, emeralds, saphires, then the lesser known stones spinell, topaz, lapis lazuli, peridot. The heap of stones grew larger. Two Italian designers dropped in and were soon engrossed in looking and selecting for their shops abroad. There was a constant flow of customers and vendors - packets of stones, packets of money, millions of rupees in bundles - the counter became the stage in this theatre production of money and gems - the dialogue was clarity, size, purity, rarity and price......"I buy and sell all day, every day from 9.00 a.m. to 9.00 p.m." he said simply - "it's a passion"
JUST AS.....
"Just as the heavens should always be laden with rain,
So also, this stately building, the foundation of the Maharaja's longevity and wealth,
Be preserved from any kind of damage".
The generosity of this benediction, seemed matched by the beautiful flowing script on the plaque of the Fort, built in 1599.
Someone once said that Rajasthan, was the one Indian State which truly expressed her childhood dreams and imaginings about India, because, here were the palaces, forts, turbans, camels, elephants, colours and desert heat. which evoked the thrill of an exotic culture.
So also, this stately building, the foundation of the Maharaja's longevity and wealth,
Be preserved from any kind of damage".
The generosity of this benediction, seemed matched by the beautiful flowing script on the plaque of the Fort, built in 1599.
Someone once said that Rajasthan, was the one Indian State which truly expressed her childhood dreams and imaginings about India, because, here were the palaces, forts, turbans, camels, elephants, colours and desert heat. which evoked the thrill of an exotic culture.
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