Wednesday 2 April 2014
Thursday 6 February 2014
A FAMILY MATTER
It was the Garba season and monsoon rains and continuing heat did nothing to diminish the general excitement as girls bought garba skirts in bright colours, embroidered with sequins and mirrors and skimpy tops to reveal an expanse of naked midriff. Nine consecutive nights of dancing, in a swirl of pulsating rhythm and sweat - a test of endurance and stamina, in which everyone participated.
The girl from the slum hung out her spangled skirt to dry, the next festival would be Diwali, some weeks later. She washed clothes for a living and I could hear her wooden paddle every morning, as she beat and scrubbed the garments in a monotonous and continuous rhythm.
But that night at about 10 p.m., everything changed. She had met a boy - her father didn't approve. A fight broke out, raised voices at first, but becoming louder and louder, as his fury increased - the family milled around - the sound of slaps, as blows rained down on the girl. The situation grew more and more violent and her cries and protestations were of no use - the anger seemed to crescendo in intensity, like a tropical storm. "Papa, papa", she wept and cried out in broken, desperate, sobs.
The horrible sound of domestic violence and a terrible beating, continued into the night. At 7 a.m. the next morning, broken, she whimpered in agony, as they tried to move her. A few weak, groans and then she slipped away. A man and woman ran from the dwelling, as if blown by a wind and the shock and finality of her death, was palpable.
A woman appeared wiping her eyes with the edge of her sari, as others used cell phones to spread the news. Someone was summoned from the town and a group of women stood in a close circle, as they negotiated the cost of funeral arrangements and a stretcher to bear her body away. As money was counted out from a large wad of notes, it reminded me of a painting or etching, by one of the Northern Renaissance artists, perhaps it was Durer, of the betrayal of Christ by Judas for 30 pieces of silver - the same furtiveness, as money changed hands, in exchange for a life.
By 11 a.m., a few more people had arrived - a gathering. The girl's body was lifted onto the stretcher, covered in flowers and borne away. There was a sense of catharsis, of spent anger, calm after the storm.
The next morning, women of the family, washed every piece of clothing, every sheet or mat - every vestige of the shocking night of violence. And so they moved on with their lives.
"What happened?" I asked the watchman, some days later. He looked at me quietly and said..."Madam, it was a family matter"........ and with that he turned away.
The girl from the slum hung out her spangled skirt to dry, the next festival would be Diwali, some weeks later. She washed clothes for a living and I could hear her wooden paddle every morning, as she beat and scrubbed the garments in a monotonous and continuous rhythm.
But that night at about 10 p.m., everything changed. She had met a boy - her father didn't approve. A fight broke out, raised voices at first, but becoming louder and louder, as his fury increased - the family milled around - the sound of slaps, as blows rained down on the girl. The situation grew more and more violent and her cries and protestations were of no use - the anger seemed to crescendo in intensity, like a tropical storm. "Papa, papa", she wept and cried out in broken, desperate, sobs.
The horrible sound of domestic violence and a terrible beating, continued into the night. At 7 a.m. the next morning, broken, she whimpered in agony, as they tried to move her. A few weak, groans and then she slipped away. A man and woman ran from the dwelling, as if blown by a wind and the shock and finality of her death, was palpable.
A woman appeared wiping her eyes with the edge of her sari, as others used cell phones to spread the news. Someone was summoned from the town and a group of women stood in a close circle, as they negotiated the cost of funeral arrangements and a stretcher to bear her body away. As money was counted out from a large wad of notes, it reminded me of a painting or etching, by one of the Northern Renaissance artists, perhaps it was Durer, of the betrayal of Christ by Judas for 30 pieces of silver - the same furtiveness, as money changed hands, in exchange for a life.
By 11 a.m., a few more people had arrived - a gathering. The girl's body was lifted onto the stretcher, covered in flowers and borne away. There was a sense of catharsis, of spent anger, calm after the storm.
The next morning, women of the family, washed every piece of clothing, every sheet or mat - every vestige of the shocking night of violence. And so they moved on with their lives.
"What happened?" I asked the watchman, some days later. He looked at me quietly and said..."Madam, it was a family matter"........ and with that he turned away.
Tuesday 28 January 2014
90' UP !
They didn't exactly shout 'timber', but whatever the local dialect was for 'mind your head, coconut on the way down' ! They were harvesting coconuts at Coconut Creek in Goa. The South of India produces 90% of India's coconut production and it brings in a good income for the 'strapped for cash' Southern States. Every part of the coconut is used, coir from the fibrous outer coat, the hard shell itself, produces charcoal, the water of the 'Jelly Coconut' is highly nutritious, containing proteins and antioxidants, then there is oil from the kernel and coconut milk and flesh, are used in cooking. Even the palm fronds are used for making brooms, etc.
Coconut palms can grow up to 98', so no mean task for the contract workers to shin up the trunk, using footholds cut into the bark and a short rope round the trunk for leverage - they cut the heavy fruit with a panga and down it thuds, with a huge wallop, capable of killing or seriously injuring anyone underneath !
The palm tree, like no other, evokes an image of exotic tropical islands, fabulous holidays and happy sunshine. But the palm frond is also a symbol for the Christian pilgrimage and the coconut itself, is used in all Hindu Religious Ceremonies, where it is offered to the God, as an important part of the ritual. And if you want your prayer to be answered, after a visit to a temple, you smash a coconut with gusto and drink the contents !
Coconut palms can grow up to 98', so no mean task for the contract workers to shin up the trunk, using footholds cut into the bark and a short rope round the trunk for leverage - they cut the heavy fruit with a panga and down it thuds, with a huge wallop, capable of killing or seriously injuring anyone underneath !
The palm tree, like no other, evokes an image of exotic tropical islands, fabulous holidays and happy sunshine. But the palm frond is also a symbol for the Christian pilgrimage and the coconut itself, is used in all Hindu Religious Ceremonies, where it is offered to the God, as an important part of the ritual. And if you want your prayer to be answered, after a visit to a temple, you smash a coconut with gusto and drink the contents !
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| Harvesting Coconuts |
Monday 27 January 2014
GOA, AGAIN
Landing on the lap of Goa, like a tired seagull, after the frenzy of India, the laid back serenity of this coastal state, always takes you by surprise. The calm Arabian Sea, an endless blue horizon, palm trees and mood of 'doing nothing in particular', offers a very different experience, to the rest of India.
After the sun goes down, the perimeter of the bay begins to light up, as careless twirls of neon lighting illuminate the decks of shabby shacks and visitors from Europe sip aperitifs, enjoying leisure and liberty to the background beat of '70s rock music.
After the sun goes down, the perimeter of the bay begins to light up, as careless twirls of neon lighting illuminate the decks of shabby shacks and visitors from Europe sip aperitifs, enjoying leisure and liberty to the background beat of '70s rock music.
Sunday 26 January 2014
Wednesday 22 January 2014
A WEE DRAM OF WHISKY ?
Or perhaps the question should be: "Would you like to share a tetra pak with me?" ! In the Liquor section of the supermarkets in Bangalore, Indian Whisky is sold in tetra paks, without the straw ! I'd never seen liquor sold this way before.... apart from cheap red and white wine in Italy.
Coming from the dry state of Gujarat, the accessibility of alcohol, is a novelty. Cane sugar juice or fresh lime soda, are the usual drinks offered at functions, in lieu of anything stronger and one of life's little pleasures when traveling to another state, is being able to order a cold Kingfisher beer. Foreigners working on contract in Gujarat, apply for a license to drink alcohol - they're allowed a limited number of units per week, all of which are recorded in a little 'pass book' and stamped by the small liquor store, tucked away in a side street.
Of course the illegality of alcohol doesn't prevent people from drinking and the newspapers often report the deaths of people who have drunk a homemade concoction from the Mahuda Tree, which has proved lethal.
Regular checks are made by police to prevent bootlegging and parties where alcohol is to be served, are clothed in secrecy - the venue for the event being sent out by sms to invitees at the last minute ! Imported wine is very expensive - a glass of ordinary Italian Red Wine can cost you around £12 a glass and champagne - £25 a glass... and Indian Wine is just as expensive, which makes spirits a more obvious choice - 'Bombay Sapphire' definitely being one of the best gins on offer !
Whisky was introduced into India during the British Raj, early in the 19th century. The original distillery, in the North of India, is still in operation producing a blend based on the fermentation of molasses, readily available from sugar cane. But the whisky in the tetra pak, called "8 PM", is a new high quality, grain based whisky, which is more mellow than its molasses based equivalent and growing in popularity with the upwardly mobile !
Coming from the dry state of Gujarat, the accessibility of alcohol, is a novelty. Cane sugar juice or fresh lime soda, are the usual drinks offered at functions, in lieu of anything stronger and one of life's little pleasures when traveling to another state, is being able to order a cold Kingfisher beer. Foreigners working on contract in Gujarat, apply for a license to drink alcohol - they're allowed a limited number of units per week, all of which are recorded in a little 'pass book' and stamped by the small liquor store, tucked away in a side street.
Of course the illegality of alcohol doesn't prevent people from drinking and the newspapers often report the deaths of people who have drunk a homemade concoction from the Mahuda Tree, which has proved lethal.
Regular checks are made by police to prevent bootlegging and parties where alcohol is to be served, are clothed in secrecy - the venue for the event being sent out by sms to invitees at the last minute ! Imported wine is very expensive - a glass of ordinary Italian Red Wine can cost you around £12 a glass and champagne - £25 a glass... and Indian Wine is just as expensive, which makes spirits a more obvious choice - 'Bombay Sapphire' definitely being one of the best gins on offer !
Whisky was introduced into India during the British Raj, early in the 19th century. The original distillery, in the North of India, is still in operation producing a blend based on the fermentation of molasses, readily available from sugar cane. But the whisky in the tetra pak, called "8 PM", is a new high quality, grain based whisky, which is more mellow than its molasses based equivalent and growing in popularity with the upwardly mobile !
Sunday 19 January 2014
OUT OF CONTEXT
The exhibition of 17th century Flemish paintings at the CSMVS (Chhattrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya) in Mumbai was the first of its kind and a rare event, funded by the Port of Antwerp. The rationale behind the idea was a collection of art offered from one harbour city to another, in recognition of the fact that port cities are doorways to other cultures.
The paintings were on loan from Antwerp's Royal Museum of Fine Art and the engravings from the Plantin-Moretus Museum. It was strange to see Western Art in the context of India - candlelit interiors, fine brocades, still life, biblical and mythological subjects, lovingly depicted in all their infinite detail. "The Massacre of the Innocents", "Samson and Delilah", portraits of wealthy patrons with elaborate lace cuffs and collars, emerging out of the Rembrandt-esque gloom of oil paint on canvas, perfectly lit with all the realism and skill of the artist. But what of the relevance for another audience, unaware of the strategically placed symbols and double entendres ?
But interestingly, the exhibition was also about the rising middle class of the time in Europe - the new bourgeoisie, about foreign trade and invigorating economies, made possible through contact between countries and continents. About reinforcing values and the structure of the family, emphasising the positive benefits of trade between nations.
Aside from this, seeing these art works, outside of the context of Europe, sharpened their narrative power and admiration for Flemish artists of the period.
The paintings were on loan from Antwerp's Royal Museum of Fine Art and the engravings from the Plantin-Moretus Museum. It was strange to see Western Art in the context of India - candlelit interiors, fine brocades, still life, biblical and mythological subjects, lovingly depicted in all their infinite detail. "The Massacre of the Innocents", "Samson and Delilah", portraits of wealthy patrons with elaborate lace cuffs and collars, emerging out of the Rembrandt-esque gloom of oil paint on canvas, perfectly lit with all the realism and skill of the artist. But what of the relevance for another audience, unaware of the strategically placed symbols and double entendres ?
But interestingly, the exhibition was also about the rising middle class of the time in Europe - the new bourgeoisie, about foreign trade and invigorating economies, made possible through contact between countries and continents. About reinforcing values and the structure of the family, emphasising the positive benefits of trade between nations.
Aside from this, seeing these art works, outside of the context of Europe, sharpened their narrative power and admiration for Flemish artists of the period.
SIZE ISN'T EVERYTHING
The ubiquitous banana, readily available as a staple fruit in every country, exists in many different varieties in India, from the usual shape and size, with which one is familiar, to very large thick skinned green bananas, called plantains, which turn black when ripe, with a creamy to slightly pink flesh. Though found in the fruit section of a supermarket, they're cooked as a vegetable and are less sweet and more dense than a banana and more nutritious - they're also sliced into thin wafers and fried, to make a delicious dried snack, sprinkled with salt and pepper, like a potato crisp.
But it is the pygmy banana, grown in South India, which is prized above all for its flavour and firm texture. These small bananas, readily available in the South, are sent by truck to other states and whenever a load would arrive in Gujarat, they were quickly bought off the truck, never seeing the inside of a supermarket !
But it is the pygmy banana, grown in South India, which is prized above all for its flavour and firm texture. These small bananas, readily available in the South, are sent by truck to other states and whenever a load would arrive in Gujarat, they were quickly bought off the truck, never seeing the inside of a supermarket !
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| Pygmy bananas - life size |
Friday 17 January 2014
Sunday 5 January 2014
MORSING IN KUTCH, GUJARAT (JAW HARP)
The oldest instrument in the world, known by various names, but called 'Morsing', in Kutch. The magical and characterful, Samadh, Headman of the Pathan Village, like a true host and showman, gave a demonstration of this amazing instrument. He claimed to be the only person in the world who could sing and play at the same time ! Since it requires being played through clenched teeth, this is no mean achievement. It wouldn't have been at all surprising to find that he owned a flying carpet as well !
Friday 3 January 2014
PASSING THROUGH
Shady streets lined with gigantic, spreading, Rain Trees and neanderthal, Banyans, their canopies arching over everything below - their aerial roots trailing thick tendrils vertically down, bringing to mind exotic jungles, Rudyard Kipling and Mowgli - symbols of a bygone, 19th century age. The Victorian and Art Deco buildings of Colaba, with their peeling paint and sagging balconies, add to the sense of time slipping by. And yet this dilapidated splendour is what makes Mumbai the unique place that it is.
"I love Mumbai" said the taxi driver "I was born here and have always lived here....you can do anything you like and go anywhere you like - nobody asks questions - there's so much freedom and plenty of food to eat. I have my mother, wife and two daughters with me and I'm putting both girls through college - I'm a happy man" !
"I love Mumbai" said the taxi driver "I was born here and have always lived here....you can do anything you like and go anywhere you like - nobody asks questions - there's so much freedom and plenty of food to eat. I have my mother, wife and two daughters with me and I'm putting both girls through college - I'm a happy man" !
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| Colaba, Mumbai |
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