A Year After Baba

One year has passed by since the time that Baba is not with us physically. He led a calm and quiet life and went away equally calmly and quietly...just as he had wished. Let us celebrate his life by recalling some of his sterling qualities.

Willingness to learn new things 

Cheerful disposition

Non-judgemental attitude

Acceptance of physical ailments and limitations without complaining

No expectations from anyone 

Being a trustworthy and reliable friend to many

Ability to communicate meaningfully with people across generations

Regular practice of Sudarshan Kriya and breathing exercises

Staying up to date with current events

Always open to trying out and appreciating different foods without prejudice

Enjoying music, films, plays...

He remained young at heart until his last breath and will continue to live on in our memory in the same way.

My earlier post on him: A Portrait Of My Father!

Slow, Soothing and Soulful!

Yes, this is about The Slow Interview with Neelesh Misra. I chanced upon it recently even though it has been around for the last few years. When one encounters a tsunami of online content, this comes as a serene island where weary sailors can take a breath and relish the scenery. The metaphor could not have been more apt as these interviews are often conducted in the sprawling outdoors of Misra's home set in a village near Lucknow. Featuring celebrities from different fields, the interviews not only introduce viewers to a never-before-seen side of the interviewee, but also treat them to an alluring audio-visual delight.

The interviews are more like a conversation between friends and not in a standard question-answer format. There is no grand entry by the host and no formal introduction of the guest. Instead, the dialogue could start with "kaisa lag raha hai?" or "Kya chal raha hai mann mein?" Most of the talking is in colloquial Hindi. As the title of the series suggests, the tone of the interview is laid back. The host and the guest could be sitting on a culvert amidst lush green fields, or at a stone picnic table, or on wrought iron garden furniture or they could even be standing on the terrace. The camera lovingly lingers on squirrels, rabbits, birds, goats, cows and peacocks that are very much a part of the rural milieu. Sometimes Misra walks with his guest to Bharatiya Gramin Vidyalaya, a school founded by his parents more than fifty years ago. The casual chat between his parents and the guest is very interesting and enjoyable. Also, everything about the show makes one long for simple, basic and uncluttered life.

What makes the Slow Interviews so special is the fact that Misra is a very good listener. He asks short questions and waits. The pauses allow the guests to reflect on their thoughts. Many a guest have confessed that they have never said the kind of things about themselves anywhere else as they have in the Slow interview. The rural setting, the open air surroundings and the genial Misra lending a patient ear turn the interview into a therapeutic experience for the guests (as some of them have admitted) as well as for the viewers. Misra makes it a point to ask the guests about their parents, their lives before they became what they are now, and the kind of bringing up they had...almost tracing their personal and career path from the past to the present. Guests have talked about their fears, their insecurities, their adolescent romances, their failures, and their teachers/role models...all thanks to Misra's friendly demeanour and non-judgemental approach. His unique style brings out the best from the guests and viewers start making an emotional connect with the guests' life stories.  

I have watched several Slow Interviews and enjoyed all of them, but did not discuss any specific interview here as that will make this post very long! Instead, I will leave it to those who are interested to find for themselves who and what appeals to them in this series of interviews. Hope to see many more guests getting featured here!  

Misra has donned various hats in his illustrious career. He has been a journalist, lyricist for Hindi films, scriptwriter, radio storyteller and author. The Slow Interview series is available on Youtube.

आठवणीतली मोठीआई !

बाबांच्या आईला आम्ही मोठीआई म्हणत असू. गव्हाळ वर्णाची ठेंगणी-ठुसकी मोठीआई नऊवारी लुगडे नेसत असे. कानात मोत्याच्या कुड्या, गळ्यात सोन्याची साखळी, हातात सोन्याच्या पाटलीवजा बांगड्या, अशी तिची राहणी त्या काळानुसारच होती. लक्षात राहण्यासारखे काही वेगळे होते तर तिचे लांबसडक केस. ती आपल्या केसांची खूप काळजी घेत असे. तेल लावून रोज मोठ्ठा जाडजूड आणि गोल आंबाडा घालत असे. तिच्या केसांना चुकून आमचा हात लागला तर ते तिला खपत नसे.

आमची आजी म्हणून तिची ओळख श्रीमती लक्ष्मीबाई जोशी अशी असली तरी तिचे माहेरचे नांव तारा करजगीर होते. तिचा जन्म अंदाजे १९०५-१९१०च्या दरम्यान झाला असावा. राजस्थान मधील निंबाहेडा हे तिचे माहेर होते. पण ती आणि तिच्या माहेरचे लोक त्याला "लिंभाडा " म्हणत असत. तिच्याबरोबर लहानपणी "लिंभाड्याला" गेल्याचे मला आठवते. पण ती आठवण पुसटच आहे. तीन बहिणी आणि दोन भाऊ अश्या भावंडांपैकी मोठीआई मधली बहीण होती. तिची मोठी बहीण इंदूरलाच असे, आणि धाकटी इंदूरच्या जवळ धारला. तिच्या भावाच्या मुलांपैकी खूपजण इंदूरला होते, आणि ते सगळे त्यांच्या "जिजीआत्या" ला भेटायला वरचेवर आमच्या घरी येत असत.

मी आणि माझी बहीण लहानपणीपासून नेहमीच मोठीआई जवळ झोपायचो. झोपता-झोपता तिच्याकडून ऐकलेल्या रामायण-महाभारतातील गोष्टी अजूनही आठवणीत आहे. ती शाळेत गेली नाही, पण तिला लिहिता-वाचता येत होते. ती पत्रव्यवहार करायची, वर्तमानपत्र वाचायची, हिशेब लिहायची, पोथ्या वाचायची, वहीत भजने आणि पदे लिहायची. दासबोध, हरिविजय तिच्या संग्रही होते. हरिविजय तर बाइंडिंग नसलेली पोथी होती. तिची सुटी पानें कापडी आवरणात व्यवस्थित ठेवलेली असायची.  

आमच्या मालकीचे एक घर इंदूरच्या जवळ बडवाहला होते. तिथे काही कुटुंब भाड्याने रहात असत. आम्ही इंदूरला होतो. भाडेकऱ्यांसाठी सगळी दृष्टीआड सृष्टीच होती. खूप लोक भाडे बुडवून निघून जायचे आणि आम्हाला पत्ताही लागायचा नाही. कधीमधी भाड्याची मनी ऑर्डर यायची. पोस्टकार्डवर कुणाकुणाची पत्रें देखील यायची. तो सगळा व्यवहार मोठीआईच बघायची. मी तिच्या बरोबर एक-दोनवेळा बडवाहला गेल्याचे आठवते. नागेश्वरपट्टीतल्या त्या घराचीही अंधुकशी आठवण आहे.

 माझ्या लहानपणीच माझ्या आजोबांचे निधन झाले त्यामुळे मोठीआई आणि आजोबांना बरोबर पाहिलेले मला आठवत नाही. मोठीआई आजोबांची दुसरी पत्नी होती. आजोबा महाराणी इंदिराबाई होळकरांकडे खाजगीत मोठ्या हुद्द्यावर होते. ते महाराणी साहेबांबरोबर युरोपला जाऊन आले होते. आजोबा चांगलेच उंच होते. दोघांच्या उंचीत आणि वयात बऱ्यापैकी अंतर होते.

मोठीआई श्रीमती भागीरथीबाई वैद्य नांवाच्या आध्यात्मिक गुरूंची शिष्या होती. त्यांचे सर्व शिष्य त्यांना गुरुमहाराज आणि त्यांच्या जागेला बंगला म्हणायचे. बंगल्यावर दर रविवारी कीर्तन असायचे. कीर्तनाला तिथे कथा म्हणत असत. सर्व शिष्य आळीपाळीने कथा करत. मोठीआई देखील कथा करायची. गुरूपौर्णिमेला मोठा उत्सव असायचा. बंगल्यावरचा कुठलाही कार्यक्रम मोठीआई कधी चुकवत नसे. तिचे गुरुबंधू आणि गुरुभगिनी तिला जोशीवहिनी म्हणून संबोधत. लहानपणी आम्हीपण बरेच वेळा मोठीआई सोबत बंगल्यावर कथेला जायचो. शिवाय गुरुपौर्णिमेला तिथे शेकडो शिष्य आपापल्या कुटुंबासकट जेवायला जायचे. श्लोकांच्या गजरात पत्रावळींवरच्या जेवणाच्या पंगती उठत.

आमच्या घरी गुरु महाराजांची मोठी तसबीर भिंतीवर लागलेली होती. शाळेत जातांना त्या तसबिरीला नमस्कार करून जायचे असे मोठीआईने सांगितले होते आणि ते आमच्या अंगवळणी पडले होते. आमच्याकडच्या चमेलीच्या वेलीला त्यावेळी खूप फुले येत असत. मोठीआई अर्धोन्मिलित कळ्यांचा हार करून त्या तसबिरीला घालत असे. त्या उमलल्या की त्यांचा घमघमाट घरात पसरे. मोठीआई सकाळी उठून देवघरात बसून काही पदे गुणगुणायची. त्यातील "वाकुनी टाक सडा राधिके वाकुनी टाक सडा", "चित्ती तुमचे पाय डोळा रूपाचे ध्यान" आणि "लिजो रे कन्हैया बिडी पानन की लिजो लिजो रे" अजूनही माझ्या आठवणीत आहेत.

मोठीआई बरेच सोवळेओवळे पाळायची. सगळे कुळधर्म कुळाचार व्यवस्थितरित्या पाळले गेले पाहिजेत ह्याकडे तिचा कटाक्ष असायचा. मोठीआई आणि आई दोघी मिळून दरवर्षी सगळे सणवार आणि कुळाचार साग्रसंगीतरित्या करायच्या. बरेच उपाससुद्धा असायचे. आम्ही लहान होतो त्यामुळे आम्ही रोजच्यासारखे जेवायचो पण मोठीआई तिच्या फराळातल्या थालीपिठाचा तुकडा किंवा साबुदाणा खिचडीचा घास न चुकता आम्हाला द्यायची आणि ते फार चविष्ट असायचे. कधी-कधी जेवतांना पोळ्या कमी पडायच्या. मग मोठीआई भरपूर तूप घालून जाड्या कणिकेचा पानगा करायची. तो इतका छान लागायचा की चार घास जास्तच खाल्ले जायचे. तिच्या हातच्या घडीच्या पोळ्या किंवा बाट्या अप्रतिम असायच्या.

गाडीवर विकायला येणाऱ्या फळांपैकी मोठीआई जवळ-जवळ रोज काहीतरी विकत घ्यायची. आणि त्याचे तीन भाग करून आम्हा तिघांसाठी काढून ठेवायची. घरी यायला कुणाला उशीर झाला तर स्वयंपाकघराच्या दारात उंबऱ्यावर पाणी पिण्याचे भांडे पालथे घालायची. कुठल्याही वस्तूला विशेषतः पुस्तकाला किंवा कागदाला चुकून पाय लागला तर नमस्कार करायला सांगायची. त्याची इतकी सवय झाली की तो आता आपोआपच केला जातो. पितृपक्षात नवे कपडे विकत घ्यायचे नाहीत, चातुर्मासात कांदे खायचे नाहीत असे तिचे नियम होते. दरवर्षी पितृपक्ष संपल्याबरोबर आम्ही दिवाळीसाठी नव्या कपड्यांची खरेदी करायचो.

मोठीआई आपल्या जुन्या झालेल्या लुगड्यांना मशीनवर शिवून त्यांच्या चौघड्या तयार करायची. त्या खूप ऊबदार आणि मऊ असायच्या. मी कितीतरी वर्षें त्या चौघड्याच पांघरून झोपत असे. कुठल्याही चादरीला चौघडीची सर येत नाही. १२ सप्टेंबर १९९५ला वृद्धापकाळाने मोठीआईला देवाज्ञा झाली. तिच्या चौघड्यांप्रमाणे तिच्या आठवणींची ऊब इतक्या वर्षांनंतर अजूनही मनात आहे. 

Remembering Vasant Kaka!

It was 1980 or early 1981. I was a year into my job as a journalist at the Times Of India group in Mumbai. All through my school life I had idolised some of my teachers who happened to be Bengali. Their excellence in teaching, their simple lifestyle, and their starched white sarees with different borders, all of it made a deep impression on my young mind. Later, my love for all things Bengali (except fish--I am a vegetarian--), and whatever I had read and heard about Shantiniketan made me want to go there and see for myself the extraordinary institution founded by Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore .

I had known noted author, actor, orator Vasant Potdar--Vasant Kaka as we used to call him--since I was a child. He was a close friend of my father, and would visit our house whenever he was in Indore. Every visit of his was like a breath of fresh air, and the stories he used to tell would open windows to a new world for us. I used to be fascinated by his towering personality, his booming voice, and above all the wondrous accounts of his life that he would share with us. I was a mere schoolgirl with hardly any exposure to the outside world. It was long before the internet era, and we had very limited access to information. Vasant Kaka had been living in Kolkata (Calcutta in those days) for a long time, had mastered Bangla, and used to write for Bengali newspapers and magazines. He also performed several of his one-act plays in Bangla. He knew many writers, actors, artists, singers, musicians etc from close quarters. His rich experiences acquired from years of travelling made him a rare storehouse of amazing anecdotes that he used to narrate in his inimitable style.

He also possessed a great ability to spot a spark of talent in somebody when he saw one. He would then encourage the person to pursue it, and would help him or her in whichever way possible. I loved to pen short stories and was really an amateur. But he would always ask me if I had written anything new, would go through it, would appreciate my efforts, and would give me useful tips on how to improve on it. All this helped me build a good rapport with him.

So no wonder, when I thought of realising my dream of visiting Shantiniketan from Mumbai, Vasant Kaka's name was the first to come to my mind. He was in Kolkata, and he welcomed the idea of my visit. We planned the whole trip by exchanging letters, and one fine day, I was on my way to Kolkata in a coach of the Gitanjali Express. No phones, no messages in those days! Vasant Kaka was at the Howrah station to pick me up.

I did not have a camera, and I have no pictures from the trip. He took me to Shantiniketan as promised. He showed me around giving background information about various places. The serene campus of the Visva-Bharati, its greenery resplendent against the red soil, the beautiful art and sculpture at the Kala Bhavana and all around the campus, the simple yet elegant houses where Gurudev lived, all of it was simply out of this world. It was an exhilarating experience for me. I can recall very sketchy details of the trip. If I were to make that trip today, I would have written a series of blog posts on it, and it would have stayed fresh in my memory years later! All I remember is that Vasant Kaka took very good care of me. I owe my first trip to Shantiniketan entirely to him, and will forever be grateful to him for that. It was a brief visit focused on Shantiniketan, and so we didn't really have time for most of the usual places of interest in Kolkata.

A small tidbit of memory from the trip: Vasant Kaka was friends with Surendra Pratap Singh and M J Akbar, the stars of Ananda Bazar Patrika's Ravivar and Sunday respectively. I had tagged along with him to a party at Akbar's home, where among other people SP Singh was also present. Years later, he would sit in an editor's cabin across the hall from my desk in the office of the NavBharat Times, New Delhi! 

Welcome Home Sunil!

My cousin Sunil. Last month he returned home to Burhanpur on retiring from a long and successful stint in Kuwait as Specialist Asset Integrity at an oil refinery. Life has come a full circle for him. As pictures of his homecoming appeared on the family WhatsApp group, my mind went back to the time when Sunil had left home as a 16-year-old lad to get admitted to a premier engineering institute in Indore. He was staying close to our house in Indore, and would often drop by. He made several friends at the institute quickly. He would share updates about his life at the institute with us. He became a member of Maharashtra Engineers, a students' wing of Marathi-speaking people at the institute. We used to get invited to social and cultural events organised by them. Those evenings were very enjoyable, with music, dance, and theatre performed by enthusiastic students.

Time flew, and Sunil passed his engineering with flying colours. He spent about a year with private companies in Mumbai, and then got a good job at the Indian Oil Corporation (IOC). He moved to their refinery in Haldia, roughly 124 kilometres from Kolkata. He adapted to the lifestyle of that new place, and started settling into his profession. He met his life partner Jolly, an accomplished gynaecologist and obstetrician, also working at the IOC in Haldia. They settled into their family life with the arrival of their baby boy, at the same time both contributing wholeheartedly to their careers at the refinery.

Sunil has always been very energetic, adventurous, active, and hardworking. As life presented him with an opportunity to move to Kuwait, he accepted it heartily. Supported by Jolly, they made Kuwait their home. Both of them had challenging careers, and they gave their best to their work. They made many long-lasting friendships there, and took part in social, cultural, and religious activities of Maharashtrian as well as Bengali communities enthusiastically. Of course, Marathi and Bangla are Sunil and Jolly's respective mother tongues, but with exposure to different communities, and a cosmopolitan lifestyle, they are world citizens really!

Photos courtesy Sunil

An avid traveller, Sunil along with Jolly has travelled far and wide to interesting destinations across the globe. He is also a keen golfer, having spent many enjoyable hours at the sprawling greens and desert golf courses in Kuwait. He has a good knowledge of rituals, and he made proper use of his knowledge by officiating at pujas and religious events regularly. He is a people's person, always bubbling with energy. He likes to remain in touch and maintain contact with his friends, relatives and acquaintances, sometimes going out of his way to make efforts to meet someone.

He is very down to earth, and adapts to any condition quickly without any complaints. I remember, once he and Jolly visited us in Bangalore for a couple of days. We had moved to Bangalore just a few days before their visit, and had not even unpacked all our stuff. The apartment was strewn with boxes, and was far from being ready to welcome anyone. They are close family, and there is no formality with them. But still I felt bad that I could not make things more comfortable for them. But both of them made me completely at ease with their natural, easygoing and simple demeanour, not only taking things as they were, but also finding enjoyment in them!

Similarly, they played great hosts when I made trips to their homes in Haldia, Kuwait, and Kolkata. When you are with them, time passes by with chatter and laughter. I wish the same laughter fills their lives as they make India their base now. Wishing both of them many more years of adventure, fun, travel, and good times with family and friends!

छोटे पर्दे पर बड़े ख़्वाब!

हाल ही में "कौन बनेगा करोड़पति" (केबीसी) में हिस्सा लेनेवाली दो प्रतियोगियों ने बहुत प्रभावित किया. संयोग की बात है कि दोनों महिलाएँ थीं. पहली, बबिता ताड़े महाराष्ट्र के अमरावती के निकट एक कस्बे अंजनगाँव सुर्जी से हैं. बहुत ही हँसमुख, सौम्य व्यक्तित्ववाली बबिता एक सरकारी स्कूल में ४५० विद्यार्थियों के लिए दोपहर का भोजन बनाती हैं. उनके पति उसी स्कूल में चपरासी हैं. एक ख़ानसामा की बेटी बबिता अपनी स्वादिष्ट खिचड़ी के लिए बच्चों में ख़ासी लोकप्रिय हैं. घर की ज़िम्मेदारी में हाथ बँटाने के लिए उन्हें अपनी स्नातकोत्तर शिक्षा अधूरी ही छोड़नी पड़ी, लेकिन चूँकि पढ़ाई-लिखाई में उनकी दिलचस्पी है, जैसे मौका मिलता है वैसे वह किताबें,अख़बार आदि पढ़ लेती हैं. सामान्य ज्ञान की इसी पूँजी के सहारे वह केबीसी में शामिल होने आई थीं.

वैसे तो अमिताभ बच्चन अपने सामने बैठे हर प्रतियोगी को सहज बनाने की पूरी कोशिश करते हैं, लेकिन फ़िर भी उनके जैसे महानायक का सामना करना आसान नहीं. बबिता न सिर्फ़ अपनी सादगी और शालीनता के साथ हॉट सीट पर टिकी रहीं, उन्होंने सारे सवालों के जवाब धैर्य और सूझबूझ के साथ दिए, और एक करोड़ रुपए जीत गईं.  एक करोड़ की रकम जीतने में सामान्य ज्ञान के साथ उनके संयत व्यवहार और सकारात्मक विचार का भी बहुत बड़ा योगदान रहा होगा. उन्होंने अपनी ज़िंदगी की मुश्किलों को बयान तो किया, लेकिन उनका रोना नहीं रोया.

कार्यक्रम के बीच अमिताभ बच्चन अक्सर पूछते हैं कि जीती हुई रकम का आप क्या करेंगे. बबिता की चाहत सिर्फ़ एक मोबाईल फ़ोन की थी. एक करोड़ जीतने के बाद जब बच्चन साहब ने उनसे कहा कि अब तो आपको काम करने की कोई ज़रुरत नहीं है, तो उनका जवाब था कि काम तो वह करती रहेंगी क्योंकि उन्हें अपने काम से प्यार है. निश्चय ही इस महिला ने एक करोड़ के साथ-साथ दर्शकों का मन भी जीत लिया होगा. न उनमें अपनी आर्थिक स्थिति को लेकर कोई हीन भावना दिखी, और न ही अपने काम को लेकर किसी कमतरी का अहसास. अपने काम के प्रति समर्पण की भावना और स्कूल के बच्चों के प्रति उनके स्नेह को देखकर दर्शकों को भी उनकी सकारात्मकता ने छू लिया.

माना कि इतने बड़े रियलिटी शो में शिरकत करने वालों को कैमरे के सामने पेश करने से पहले कई तरह की सूचनाएँ दी जाती होंगी, उनकी छवि को तराशा जाता होगा, और जनता के सामने प्रभावशाली तरीके से प्रस्तुत होने के लिए उन्हें कुछ गुर सिखाए जाते होंगे. बावजूद इसके बबिता की स्वाभाविक सादगी छुप न सकी. साथ ही अमिताभ बच्चन आज जिस मक़ाम पर हैं, वहाँ से उनका आम जनता के साथ उठना-बैठना, सभी प्रतियोगियों के साथ आदरपूर्ण और मित्रवत व्यवहार, हँसी-मज़ाक करना, और सुपरस्टार की छवि के बोझ से मुक्त होकर सबके साथ सामान्य आचरण करना आदि इस शो को महज प्रश्नोत्तरी का कार्यक्रम नहीं, आपसी संवाद को रेखांकित करती एक मानवीय गतिविधि बना देते है.

इसी सन्दर्भ में जिनका ज़िक्र किया जा सकता है ऐसी दूसरी महिला हैं रूमा देवी. यह विशेष कार्यक्रम कर्मवीर में अतिथि बनकर आई थीं. राजस्थान के बाड़मेर ज़िले की रहनेवाली रूमा देवी को हस्तकला के क्षेत्र में उत्कृष्ट काम करने के लिए इस वर्ष राष्ट्रपति ने "नारी शक्ति पुरस्कार" से नवाज़ा है. टीवी के पर्दे पर इनकी उपस्थिति बेहद दिलकश और ऊर्जावान थी. पारम्परिक राजस्थानी पोशाक में सजीं रूमा देवी ने खुलेपन और आत्मविश्वास के साथ अपनी कहानी सुनाई. वह महज आठवीं कक्षा तक स्कूल गईं. कम उम्र में शादी होने के बाद धन के अभाव में अपने छोटे बच्चे का इलाज नहीं करा पाईं और उसे खो दिया. घूँघट की प्रथा का आदर करते हुए उन्होंने अपनी दादी से सीखा हुआ कशीदाकारी का काम घर से ही शुरू किया और धीरे-धीरे अपने जैसी कई महिलाओं को अपने साथ जोड़कर उन्हें भी रोज़गार दिलाया. आज २२ हज़ार महिलाएँ उनके साथ कार्यरत हैं. उनके बनाए वस्त्र और अन्य सामान जैसे टेबल कवर, कुशन कवर आदि की भारत में और विदेश में भी बहुत माँग है. 

रूमा देवी ने अपने काम के सिलसिले में विदेश दौरे भी किए हैं, और व्यावसायिक मॉडेल्स के साथ फैशन शो में रैम्प वॉक भी. केबीसी के विशेष कार्यक्रम के दौरान वह लगातार मुस्कुरा रही थीं और बेबाकी से ठहाके भी लगा रही थीं. अतिथि के रूप में उनका साथ देने आई थीं अभिनेत्री सोनाक्षी सिन्हा. सोनाक्षी के ग्लैमर और चमक-दमक के सामने रूमा देवी कहीं भी कम नहीं लग रही थीं, बल्कि महज ३० वर्ष की उम्र में हासिल की उपलब्धियों की रोशनी में उनका आकर्षक व्यक्तित्व और भी निखर उठा था. उन्होंने १२ लाख ५० हज़ार की रकम जीती और उसे अपने साथ काम करती महिलाओं के उत्थान के लिए इस्तेमाल करने की इच्छा जताई.

गाँव की मिट्टी की खुशबू अपने साथ लेकर आईं बबिता और रूमा देवी की कहानियाँ प्रेरणादायी तो हैं ही, साथ ही यह दूर-दराज क्षेत्रों में बसे उन अनगिनत लोगों को सपने देखने की हिम्मत देती हैं जो अपनी मेहनत, कौशल और विश्वास के बूते पर अपने आपको साबित करने के लिए प्रयत्नरत हैं. 

यह लेख इन्दौर से प्रकाशित दैनिक "प्रजातंत्र" में आज २६ सितम्बर २०१९ के अंक में प्रकाशित हुआ है. 

Manohar Parrikar: A Breath Of Fresh Air!

I did not know Manohar Parrikar personally, nor do I know anything more about him than what is out in the media. But since his passing two days ago, I feel a sense of personal loss. I am sure many of you do too.

He was like a breath of fresh air in the murky world of politics. A quintessential aam aadmi, he was a true son of his home state, leading a simple life that resonated with the spirit of Goa. He was everything that we do not usually associate with a politician: an IIT Mumbai graduate, unassuming, open, accessible, shunning any kind of special treatment in public places, drinking tea at roadside stalls, playing football, riding a two-wheeler, wearing sandals and sporting a casual half-sleeved shirt that became his trademark. All this and more of his personality endeared him to people who are used to seeing pictures of politicians wielding brooms and going through the facade of sweeping clean streets only for photo opportunities. He did not do things for building his image. What we saw him do was actually how he lived.

A popular chief minister, he had an easy rapport with people. Again in tune with the carefree and laid-back lifestyle of Goa! When he assumed the responsibility of defence minister and moved to Delhi, the cold climate (literally and figuratively) of Delhi did not suit him. He longed for the warmth of Goa. He felt restrained by the restrictions Delhi put on him in terms of his movement and speech. He occupied only one room in his spacious government accommodation so that he could pack up and move back to Goa quickly when it was time.

When the deadly disease knocked at his door, he faced it bravely. His appearance changed beyond imagination in a short span of time. The sprightly gentleman was reduced to being a frail person with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. But that did not stop him from going around on his official engagements, complete with a tube in his nose and a cap on his head. It is shocking and painful to look at his pictures in that state. The more you try to find his former self in these images, the more it eludes you.

Even though those pictures were a reality, it will be unfair to remember him in that way. He was a rare bird in the political firmament, and it will be apt to think of him as someone who caught people's imagination by soaring high in turbulent skies.

Second Act With Manisha Koirala!

I was at the Hindu Lit For Life (Hindu LFL) that concluded in Chennai recently. It is a big event and there are parallel sessions running in different spaces at any given time. So it is practically not possible for anybody to attend all sessions. One chooses what one wants and plans accordingly. I had decided on attending quite a few, and a session with Manisha Koirala was one of them. Titled "Second Act", it was to feature her in conversation with Dr. Sheela Nambiar, an obstetrician and gynaecologist by training who also practises Lifestyle Medicine. and is a fitness consultant. 

I remember Manisha as a beautiful and competent actress, having seen her performances in "1942: A Love Story" (1994), "Agni Sakshi" (1996),  Khamoshi: The Musical (1996) and some other films. Reports of her being struck by ovarian cancer emerged some time in 2012-2013. She put up a brave fight and emerged victorious after surgery and treatment in the USA. Her book "Healed: How Cancer Gave Me A New Life", published by Penguin India in 2018 tells the story of her battle with the dreaded disease. She was at the Hindu LFL to talk about this difficult chapter in her life.

She came on the stage dressed in a dark blue and white ensemble-- a mix of blouse/top and salwar/dhoti, her hair pulled back and tied in a severe bun. She smiled a lot and established an instant rapport not only with Dr. Nambiar, but also with the audience. She looked calm and at peace with herself in spite of the ravages of time and cancer on her lovely face.

She talked of her reckless lifestyle when she was at the peak of her career, and the resultant neglect of health. How she went into a denial mode after she learnt of her cancer, thinking all the time that perhaps the doctors had made a mistake, maybe the reports were wrong. Then the painful treatment and its aftermath. How her family, her mother in particular, provided solid support to her during those testing times. How thinking positively helped her overcome her disease. How important it is to be strong and optimistic even while going through unbearable pain. How this phase has taught her to take care of her body, to make the most of what life has to offer, to live.

Dr. Nambiar was understanding and supportive all along, allowing Manisha to be in her comfort zone. Manisha, on the other hand was frank and quite open. She said it was important to keep negativity and resentment at bay, and move on with one's life. She has understood the importance of giving, not just money; but time, love and care to others. She has emerged out of her ordeal as a better person, more compassionate, more loving, more giving. 

She has resumed work after recovery. She appeared in "Dear Maya" in 2017, then in a Netflix anthology "Lust Stories", and essayed the role of Nargis in Sanjay Dutt's biopic "Sanju" in 2018. She will continue working, but currently she is training for a trek to the Everest base camp that she plans to undertake with her friends.

The audience cheered her throughout the interaction. Reacting to a question she disclosed that the doctors had still not said that she was completely cured--I have told myself that I am cured now. When somebody asked if she thought of committing suicide at any point of time, she laughed and said, I had cancer already, why would I think of suicide. The 50-minute interaction was full of warmth, honesty and smiles. 

I am happy I sat in, it gave me a chance to see the person behind the larger-than-life image of a film actress. Somebody from the audience summed it up well when he got up and said to Manisha, "We heard all the other talks with our mind, but your talk has touched our hearts ma'am!" 

A Portrait Of My Father!

It is not easy to write on people who are close to you. They could be your family or friends, but penning a sketch is equally difficult. I have been mulling over the thought of writing on my father for the past few months, but never quite got around to doing it. Finally, gathered some courage to attempt it today.

My father, Baba as we call him, defies stereotypes in many ways. In his eighties. he is as techno-savvy as can be. Ever willing to learn and adapt to new stuff, he uses modern gadgets and devices with ease. He is enthusiastic and doesn't shy away from asking help from his grandchildren whether they are with him or away. He communicates with them with ease on social media and keeps himself updated with the newest trends.

He worked in the textile industry and later in the industrial chemicals business. His work took him to Iran for four long years, away from his family and away from his young children. More than four decades ago, Iran seemed to be a distant place. Communication was not easy, modest aerogrammes being the only mode of keeping in touch. The thin blue letter would take a couple of weeks to reach us, and it used to be the most awaited item from the postman's bag.

Brought up in a traditional vegetarian household by his parents, he made the necessary changes in his diet while living in a remote textile town in Iran, eating the bland, unfamiliar food day in and day out without complaining. Even now he is quite adventurous in trying out new foods, unlike some of us who have reservations about experimenting with different cuisines. The town offered hardly any recreation, and spending weekends used to be a torture. He occupied himself with reading, swimming and listening to music.

Talking of music, he is a trained violinist in the Hindustani style. He used to perform regularly on the All India Radio before going to Iran.The fact that he pursued this interest without having any musical background in the family makes it more creditable. He was a part of the regular music circle in the city and I remember informal recitals taking place in our living room, with music lovers enjoying the offerings by fellow musicians followed by cups of coffee brought out by my mother from the kitchen.

Baba took driving lessons at a very young age and drove his father's Austin regularly with ease. Much later, he got his own Ambassador and then a Fiat. He does not drive anymore, but was an expert driver who understood the working of a car almost as well as a mechanic does. He loved his cars, took good care of them and was always ready to take friends and family where they wished to go in his car. When we used to arrive from Delhi to Indore by train, he would be waiting at the platform in the hot summer afternoon, his car parked outside, eager to take us home.

These days, taking pictures has become very easy. Anybody who has a reasonably good mobile phone takes pictures. Baba was a proud owner of a Minolta and took great pictures. I remember seeing wonderful slides from my parents' Europe trip projected on our living room wall using a slide projector. An early black and white masterpiece from him featured me as a little girl enacting the three monkeys of Gandhiji in a single frame!

Another of Baba's remarkable interests is his expertise in fixing things. Be it an electrical or a mechanical appliance, if it is not working well, he would open it up and tinker with it until it got back into shape. Acquaintances, friends and relatives would often leave their damaged radios, tape recorders, mixers or toasters with him and he would bring them back to life again. Now when everything is disposable, this skill is on its way to becoming obsolete, but still comes in handy while using several household items like a water purifier, a telephone instrument or a water pump.

Baba is blessed with a large circle of close friends. They have known one another for decades and share a great bond. In spite of some age-related issues, he maintains a cheerful disposition, keeping himself occupied with a regular exercise routine in the morning, followed by breakfast, bath and offering pooja to family deities at home. He enjoys going to a play or a concert in the city, though of late his movement is a bit restricted. Well-wishers and friends routinely drop by at home and he loves catching up with them.

He can keep up with present day life and can easily relate to people much younger than him in age. This is possible because he has not allowed himself to "feel" old. It is easier said than done. A big round of applause to him for that!

A Portrait Of My Mother!

A small rectangle of black granite is her canvas. Heaps of white and coloured rangoli powder are her paints. And her nimble fingers are her brushes. Every morning she is seated in the prayer room drawing a beautiful design to welcome the day. Sometimes they are floral patterns, at other times geometric forms, and on birthdays and festivals, it is brief messages in text. The granite slab is her personal space where she expresses herself using the humble rangoli powder. New Years have been ushered in, Independence Days and Republic Days have been marked,  cricket teams have been wished good luck --she is a cricket enthusiast---, and guests/family members have been greeted on special occasions with her lines and letters drawn here. Once when I returned home from the hospital after a major surgery, her rangoli was waiting at the doorstep to welcome and soothe me.

A birthday feast for her daughter-in-law

On some days, the rangoli makes an appearance on the sunmica-topped dining table, often drawn around the plate of someone celebrating a birthday in the family. What is around the plate is of course beautiful. Moreover, what is on the plate is not only beautiful, but also tempting and delicious. She loves to plan menus and cook, serving the items neatly and aesthetically on the plate and in the accompanying bowls.

Her neatness is not restricted to the dining table, it reflects everywhere around the house. The beds are made nicely, the dining table and kitchen surfaces are free of clutter and are gleaming, the living room is always in order, and the entrance to the house bright and open making visitors feel welcome instantly. The shelves in the kitchen are always lined smartly and all cupboards in the kitchen and bedrooms are arranged meticulously.  What is remarkable is that she executes her neatness without compelling or bothering others in the family. Neatness freaks often terrorise other members in the family with their sometimes unreasonable demands. Not her. She just says keeping the house neat is a continuous process, that's all. Needless to say, she is always tidily turned out in a saree.

The continuous flow of house-guests to the house over the decades says a lot about her warm hospitality and her ability to adapt to the guests' needs. She makes them completely at ease, often changing her schedule to suit their requirements.

A colourful kite to mark the festival of Sankranti

She is the central figure in the family when it comes to celebrating festivals. Be it putting up decorations, getting things ready for certain rituals, planning specific foods for certain festivals and putting things back after the celebrations...she does it all year after year. Another of her interests is gift-packing. Almost all the gifts are personally wrapped by her. She loves knitting and makes sweater-cap-socks sets for newborns to this day. Knitting a sweater for an adult is a bit too strenuous for her now, but she has done that a lot earlier.

A plant-lover, she keeps a charming garden of potted plants in the veranda. It is her hobby to arrange twigs, leaves and flowers in big and small vases spread around the house. The arrangements are often minimalist and do not involve buying flowers from the market.

All these are very pleasant and likeable traits indeed, but what set her apart are other qualities: a loving heart that touches almost everybody who interacts with her, her cheerful demeanour that brings joy to everyone around her, her positive energy and enthusiasm, her ability to share others' happiness and to enjoy small pleasures of life. It is this joie de vivre that keeps her young at heart and in spirit. Of course, age does not spare anybody and she is no exception either. Aches and pains in the knees and back are routine affairs that she manages to keep at bay with regular exercise and a walk in the neighbourhood park. A light eater, she eats simple homemade food in small quantities;  her delicate system not allowing her to eat heavy and spicy food.

She is my mother--Aai, as we call her.

Why am I saying all this? Is it her birthday today? No, saying it because generally we do not express our feelings towards our close family members. We make efforts to send greetings and wishes to friends and relatives living faraway, but keep mum when it comes to recognising qualities of people at home. This is just a small effort towards correcting that. A nod of approval, a word of appreciation, a touch of love and care, and a pat of encouragement do go a long way in making your loved ones happy. So why not do that once in a while?

Aai, may you continue to walk your path happily, healthily and heartily.

Going High On A Swing

An 11-year old girl getting married to a 31-year old widower. Her parents agreeing to the alliance under some pressure because "she is past her marriageable age and too old to get a first-time groom". This is not the stuff of some tribal legend from a remote area. It was happening in an educated Chitpavan Brahmin family of repute in Pune in as late as 1873. This story showing the social fabric that was prevalent merely 139 years ago, is being brought alive on television screens in an ongoing Marathi series "Uncha Maza Zoka" (roughly translates as "My swing goes high") on Zee Marathi. The protagonists are Ramabai Ranade and Justice Mahadev Govind Ranade.

The society was wracked by many ills such as child marriage, female illiteracy, untouchability and banning widows from remarrying, while it was perfectly alright for a widower to do so. Widows--even as young as in their teens, or younger-- were not only not allowed to remarry, they were banished from leading a civil life, restricted to the confines of their parents' or in-laws' home, treated as outcasts on all auspicious occasions. If this was not enough, they were defaced by shaving off their heads, and forced to spend the rest of their lives in a dreadful, red, 9-yard saree. Devoid of any adornment, their appearance was a constant reminder of the tragedy that had befallen them.

Set in this milieu, this is a tale of the mis-matched union of Rama and Mahadev--fondly addressed as Madhav at home--and his relentless efforts to educate his young wife and liberate her from the shackles of some of the oppressive practices of that era, passed off in the name of "tradition". Madhav is progressive in his outlook, committed to encourage and support his comrades in particular and the society in general; in doing away with some of these age-old customs. Caught between his loyalty to his father at home and his commitments towards social reforms outside, he marries Rama against his wishes, his conservative father forcing the wedlock barely a month after the passing away of Madhav's first wife. This is the father's way of nipping the possibility of Madhav marrying a widow --if he were permitted to follow his convictions--in the bud. Madhav has to face the ire of fellow reformists for not practising what he had been preaching, but he deals with it stoically; the pain making his resolve to educate his wife firmer.

This is an excellent story being adapted for the small screen beautifully. The little girl playing young Rama is doing a fabulous job. Not only does she have to carry herself in a 9-yard saree, she has to show a range of emotions mouthing lengthy lines in a somewhat archaic Marathi. A carefree girl one moment and a married woman the next moment...she alternates between these two identities effortlessly. Each and every actor in the large cast is giving a brilliant performance. The youth playing Madhav is very impressive in his hugely understated portrayal of the young scholar. He has fire within him, but he is restrained by his circumstances. Surely a superlative effort by this actor.

The makers of this series have taken some liberty with the script, obviously to make it more interesting and dramatic. But they know their limits and are careful enough not to make it melodramatic. Their imagination has added a lot of value to the screenplay. All the characters and all the inter-personal relationships--Rama's relationship and rapport with her mother deserves a special mention--have substance and look very real. Four widows are part of this story. We get to see them as women, as human beings. They too have a heart buried within the folds of their red saree, resigned though they are to lead a life full of denials.

The sets and the props present a picture of middle/upper middle class Brahmin households of that era. Especially of interest to me are the kitchens where most of the chores were performed sitting on the floor. Large, empty rooms with minimum furniture look good too. The floors are bare, sometimes covered with a dhurrie. Perhaps the floors should have been earthen, instead of being tiled with rectangular stones? Perhaps the costumes and the jewellery should have been more commonplace, instead of the impeccable wardrobe being sported by the cast? Well, television, as a medium has some limitations and some compulsions. So, these small things can be ignored in the interest of the larger picture. And what a promising picture that is!

My Guardian Angels

It was 1978 and I was a starry-eyed young woman, barely out of my teens. The standard courses offered for post-graduation in Indore did not interest me. I was fascinated by the world of the print media, and wanted to pursue it. The closest city from Indore where you could take a course in Journalism was Mumbai, called Bombay in those days. I had my eyes set on it, and even though it must have been a difficult decision for them, Aai-Baba--my parents--agreed to send me. As luck would have it, I secured a seat at the renowned Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan for a 1-year diploma course in Journalism. I was happy and thrilled. But there was a problem. We had to make arrangements for my stay. Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan did not have any hostel facility.

Photo by Mayuresh

This is where my father's close friend Achyutkaka and his wife, Ashatai came to our rescue. They opened their doors for me and invited me to stay with them in their flat, on Senapati Bapat Road in Mahim. Now, this was a small, one-bedroom flat and they had three young children. I became their fourth child, and the eldest one at that. Aai-Baba found it hard to send me away, but at the same time they were relieved because I was going to be under the loving and watchful eye of their most trustworthy friends.

Achyutkaka was (still is) a stickler for discipline, order and neatness. I made sure that I hang my clothes to dry in perfect symmetry on the clothesline. When I took off my slippers, I set them straight against the wall, with the toe-side touching the wall. Achyutkaka was particular about everything and paid attention to the smallest detail around his house. Footwear left on the floor in a haphazard manner, beds covered with sheets that were wrinkled and slack instead of being taut, and anything in general that was not placed neatly, bothered him. He was very straightforward and vocal about it. His children often got quite an earful from him. I may not have lived up to his exacting standards in spite of trying very hard, but I must say that he never let me know that in any way. He would regularly advise me on how to go about in my chosen field of study. He used to tell me how I should conduct myself in a big city like Bombay. 'If you have any problem, confide in Asha', he often told me. After all, they were responsible for a 19-year-old, who had come away from her parents for the first time.

Even though he was an executive with the Indian Oil Corporation, acting was Achyutkaka's passion. He was active in the theatre circuit and I remember going to see many plays with him at the Chhabildas High School in Dadar. Chhabildas was a great venue for playwrights and directors to showcase their creations. It provided a platform for quality theatre that was not purely commercial, but experimental and low-budget. I don't mean to name-drop, but I got to see Pandit Satyadev Dubey,  Rohini and Jayadev Hattangadi, Sulabha and Arvind Deshpande, Nafisa Ali, Nana Patekar, Amol Palekar, Sunila Pradhan and many others from close quarters, either on stage or as part of the audience or in an informal meeting, thanks to Achyutkaka. I can't recollect names of all the plays that I saw there, but the two that stand out in memory are Badal Sircar's 'Juloos' and Mohan Rakesh's 'Aadhe Adhoore'. And I certainly haven't forgotten the zesty batatavadas from a nearby stall, that we used to be treated to, after watching a play.

Photo by Govind

If I have to mention one more of Achyutkaka's 'likes', other than discipline, order, neatness and acting, it has to be his evening drink. He has been having his pre-dinner drink every single day for years. I can still picture him, sitting in a chair that was kept between a window and a steel cupboard in the small Mahim flat, nursing his drink. His tastes in food are simple. He is happy with his daal-roti, the daal has to be served in a big bowl though, not in the small vaati or katori in which it is traditionally served in Maharashtrian houses. And the pinch of sugar that Maharashtrians add to all the dishes is a strict no-no in his house. Ashatai's cooking has always been free of that dash of sugar. In fact, there is a delightful North Indian touch to her fare, as she hails from Jhansi. The family was mostly vegetarian. Occasionally, there used to be some fish and the children tried their best to cajole me into eating it, or at least trying a little portion. But I was, still am, a vegetarian by choice and therefore did not succumb to their pleas.

Life was simple. School for the kids, Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan for me and office for Achyutkaka. Ashatai was a homemaker then. She started teaching at a school later. Sunday evenings were reserved for sitting in front of the TV and watching whatever movie Doordarshan threw at us. There used to be an intermission--a break when news was telecast--that all of us enjoyed with some munchies. The favourite items were puff biscuits and hard and crispy boondi laddoos which Achyutkaka used to get from some shop in Dadar.

Time flew in these congenial environs and before I knew it, my course was over. I was fortunate to be selected as a trainee journalist at the Bennett, Coleman & Company, publishers of the Times of India and many reputed journals. Soon, I moved into a hostel for working women. It was not too far from Achyutkaka's place. I continued visiting and meeting him and his family till I got married and moved away in 1982. When we were about to set up our home in Delhi, Achyutkaka gave us an Indane gas connection from his discretionary quota. That was one of the most sought after things then, a precious gift indeed that is still keeping our kitchen fires burning.

Achyutkaka and Ashatai visited us in Delhi and in Bangalore. They came when Aai-Baba were with us so that the four of them could spend some nice time together. Achyutkaka and Baba have been friends for more than six decades now, but what is remarkable is that their wives are each other's best friends too! During his visits, I found that he is still his old self...inspecting cupboards, arranging newspapers in a neat pile, washing and arranging teacups in the kitchen...and so on. His actions told me that he felt completely 'at home' at our place. This is exactly what he would have done in his own house.

Well, that is Achyutkaka for me.

A bit of information for those who don't know: Achyutkaka is Achyut Potdar who played the role of the father of leading ladies Urmila Matondkar ( in the 1995 Hindi film 'Rangeela')  and Vidya Balan ( in the 2005 film 'Parineeta'), and a cameo of a professor in 'Three Idiots' (2009). You may have seen him in many other Hindi films,  TV serials and advertisements. Kudos to him for keeping his passion alive and being actively involved in it so many years after retirement.