A Celebration Of Talent

The last three days were so full at the Svanubhava in Chennai that I feel very empty today. The lovely Svanubhava theme music is echoing in my mind throughout the day. They describe themselves as a cultural movement by students of the performing arts. It is amazing what a bunch of dedicated and enthusiastic people can put together. The Rukmini Arangam at Kalakshetra was buzzing with activity, what with hordes of school children and dance/music loving elders descending on it at nine in the morning every day. The day was chock-a block with performances and question-answer sessions back to back, but for a short lunch break and even shorter tea break.

Most of the artistes who performed are stalwarts in their fields and it was heartening to see how humble they are. When curious kids asked them about the feats they can so effortlessly perform in their chosen art form, they simply attributed them to the blessings of their Guru or God, not mentioning their own hard work and years of practice behind it. There was a fairly varied spread for all to enjoy. Vocal and instrumental music in Hindustani and Carnatic style, qawwalis, baul sangeet, thevarams (Shaivaite hymns), a Bharatanatyam lecture-demonstration, yakshagana, villu pattu (folk story-telling), and a discussion on 'Does Indian cinema reflect the reality of Indian women?'. Some of these performing arts were of special interest to me as I was watching them for the first time. My appreciation for villu pattu and yakshagana would have been several times greater if I had a good knowledge of Tamil and Kannada respectively.  But even without that they were a pleasure to watch because of the involvement and passion of the performers.

The ambience contributed a lot to the enjoyment. The open auditorium at the Kalakshetra and the informal seating arrangement made one feel as if it was a mehfil in a friend's house that one was invited to. Everybody sat together, everybody ate the same food together and everybody had a good time together watching whatever was going on on the stage. Almost all the volunteers in their twenties or early thirties were wearing traditional attire...veshtis and tops for men and cotton sarees for women. That presented a pretty picture too. A bunch of foreign students were no exception.

All these art forms have been existing for a long time, but when you experience so many of them in a short span of time, it makes you proud of your heritage as an Indian. The young men and women who belong to the Svanubhava team deserve a big applause for their efforts in bringing together such gems from various parts of our country, organising a celebration of their talent, and sharing it with dance and music lovers across the world. Webcasts of all the events have been made available on their blog for those interested.

The organising team headed by T M Krishna, an accomplished vocalist in the Carnatic style, has put in a lot of work and it shows. Fresh sheets about the day's programme were handed out everyday, giving brief but well-researched introductions about the artistes for the day and their accompanists, complete with lively illustrations. Students from several schools were not only invited to attend the event, but were encouraged to ask questions to the performing artistes. For many of them, this must have been their first exposure to the cultural scene in their city and country.

I sincerely hope that this movement continues and gets bigger every year. This year, after the Chennai leg, it has gone to Delhi, where it will be on until the 15th of this month. It will be nice to see more representation in terms of performances from states in the North, East and Central India in the future editions of Svanubhava. And inviting some younger artistes will be a good idea too. But for now, heartfelt thanks to the whole team for letting me share this wonderful experience, which has been very enriching and which I will cherish for a long time to come.

http://svanubhava.blogspot.com/2011/08/svanubhava-2011.html

Kathakali @ Kalakshetra

Dusk is descending on the Kalakshetra in Chennai. Beautiful kolams (traditional patterns drawn on the floor) lead one to the venue where the stage is set for a dance-drama performance. Fragrance of sambrani wafts in the area as coils of white smoke emanate from various places, dense at the bottom and disintegrating in the air as they rise up. Bunches of fresh neem leaves are being used to keep the insects away. An attractive arrangement of flowers floating in a large clay bowl welcomes everyone at the entrance. It is a lovely semi-open theatre set amidst lush green tress.

Photo by Rakesh S (CC-BY-SA-2.0)

I am here to watch 'Uttara Swayamvaram', a Kathakali performance, my first ever. The painted face of a Kathakali performer is very familiar as it is one of the most common icons of Kerala. One often notices it in advertisements, calendars and on the covers of magazines. But I have never seen a Kathakali dancer in flesh and blood. So I am all eyes and ears, waiting for the curtains to part. The huge kalivilakku (lamp) placed on the front part of the stage is lit. It is a signal that the recital is about to begin. As the curtains slide open, four formidable middle-aged gentlemen appear on the stage. They are dressed in off-white mundus with the mandatory gold border. They are all bare-chested. Two of them take their place on one side in the front while two stand at the back. The ones standing on the side are drummers, playing the chenda and the maddalam. The horizontal drum is tied to the waist of the drummer while the vertical drum is supported by a sling around the player's shoulder. The duo at the back are singers, doubling up as accompanists with chengila (a gong made of bell metal, which is struck with a wooden stick) and ilathaalam (a pair of cymbals). Don't be overwhelmed by these names...it is just that I had done my homework before going!

As the musicians get going, two men bring a rectangular, decorated piece of cloth, just like a large bedspread, and stand holding it as if it were a curtain, shielding a good part of the stage with it. We do not come to know when the dancer arrives on the stage, for our view is blocked by the makeshift curtain. A little later, I notice a shiny headpiece bobbing behind it. Then two hands appear on top of the curtain. Only the left hand is wearing five rings, one on each finger, with bright, long nail-shaped extensions. After a display of some exquisite mudras (hand gestures) by the unseen performer, the curtain is finally pulled down and taken away. The hero of today's show, Duryodhana is standing magnificently, with all his bells and whistles. The first viewing is somewhat intimidating, for his is a larger-than-life figure. The spectacular headpiece, the green face, symmetrical designs drawn in contrast colours around the eyebrows and the lips in order to highlight them, the heavy decorations around the neck, the long black hair, the red full-sleeved jacket and the red and white skirt held around the hips like a huge umbrella. I am in awe of this costume. One would need a lot of practice just to carry all this stuff on oneself! Interestingly, while the ornamentation is very heavy at the top, the feet are completely bereft of any colour or jewellery. Even the ghungroos are tied around the knees, not ankles.

Photo by Rakesh S (CC-BY-SA-2.0

The first scene is a slow, romantic act between Duryodhana and his wife, Bhanumathi. They are in a beautiful garden, appreciating nature's bounty. This scene is replete with facial expressions and hand gestures. The whole face is being used like a canvas to express a variety of emotions. Duryodhana's control over the movement of his eyes and eyebrows is simply superb. At one point, he even synchronises moving his eyebrows with the beats of the drum. Bhanumathi, being played by a man is comparatively less ornate in her costume and accessories.

The next scene shows the court of Duryodhana, where he is discussing with others the possibility of the Pandavas, who are supposed to be in exile, taking shelter in the neighbouring kingdom of King Virata. This scene has a lot of movement and action when a messenger relates various happenings, which strengthen their suspicion about the presence of the Pandavas in the nearby kingdom.

In the third scene, Duryodhana summons the king of Trigartha, Susharma; and asks for his help in the plan to identify the Pandavas and scare them away to the forest. Susharma is ferocious and scary with his red hair and red beard. The actors bring alive scenes of battle on the stage, complete with imaginary chariots, horses and elephants. In the end, Susharma is of course defeated by Bhima, who is working in the royal kitchen as a cook during his exile. The battle scenes depicting veer rasa are ably supported by the musicians, with the music reaching a crescendo several times during the performance. Not just the actor, but the musicians are so involved in the scene that they are greatly charged up.

The high-energy performance has been going on non-stop for three hours. The spirited musicians have been standing all along, captivating the audience with their invigorating music. The singers have been busy too, as the entire storytelling happens through the verses that they sing. The actors/dancers do not say a word. Only the actor playing Duryodhana unleashes some cries from time to time. The verses are pieces of poetry written in Manipravalam, which is a mixture of Malayalam and Sanskrit, used in ancient literary works. I can catch the Sanskrit words, but the Malayalam component escapes me. It is a pity not to be able to appreciate the original compositions, but thanks to the excellent text on the slides being projected on one of the walls of the stage, I follow the details of the story as it unfolds. And enjoy it thoroughly! The all-natural ambience at the Kalakshetra and the appreciative audience add to the experience.

Later, all the artistes are requested to come back to the stage for the presentations. It is amusing to see that the all-powerful Duryodhana, who dominated the dance-drama for the last three hours, is a diminutive man clad in a simple shirt and mundu, completely shorn of his embellishments. I remember having read somewhere that in Kathakali, it is important for an actor to let his personality be completely overshadowed by that of the character he is playing. Sitting in this pretty little theatre, and looking at the small figure of Injakkad Ramachandran Pillai on the stage in front of me, I think it is so true!

A glimpse from an earlier rendition of 'Uttara Swayamvaram':

Pondicherry: An Ideal Getaway From Chennai

If you are thinking of a nice weekend getaway from Chennai, Pondicherry (now called Puducherry, but I am sticking to Pondicherry because more people know it that way) is almost sure to top the list of the options available. It is 160 kilometres from Chennai and it takes about three hours to get there. Most of the route passes along the scenic coast. No wonder that the highway is simply called the East Coast Road, abbreviated to ECR in Chennai. One can take a bus or a taxi from Chennai. You may want to stop at Mahabalipuram (Mamallapuram) on the way. This is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, about 60 kilometres from Chennai. There are beautiful temples carved in stone, situated along the beach in this small town. The monuments are believed to have been built between the 7th century and the 9th century. But they have been standing so close to the sea for so long that the exquisite carvings have lost all their sharpness. Most of them are just some irregular shapes with rounded edges. The finer details of the works are lost, but the temples, chariots, pillars and sculpted reliefs have stood the test of the time and look impressive even today. That is the reason why Mahabalipuram is a popular destination for tourists.

There are several beach resorts on the way to Pondicherry. It is an interesting town...Pondicherry. Most of it looks like a typical coastal town in Tamil Nadu, while a small part makes you feel as if you were somewhere in France. Pondicherry came into being in 1673 under the French rule. It was the capital of French India until as late as 1954. The French Quarter is a charming little place, blessed with the lovely backdrop of the Bay of Bengal. Many of the streets retain their French names, while some buildings remind you of French villas.

Over the years, Pondicherry has become synonymous with Sri Aurobindo Ashram. The ashram was founded by Sri Aurobindo, a prominent freedom fighter, philosopher and poet, on the 24th November,1926. Soon after that, he withdrew from public life, handing over the running of the ashram to his French co-worker, Mirra Alfassa, better known as the Mother. The ashram attracts lots of visitors from India and abroad. Bureau Central, located on Rangapillai Street acts as the information centre for the ashram and helps visitors in all possible ways, including arranging accommodation in one of the ashram guest houses. I have made only day trips to Pondicherry and so I did not get a chance to stay in any of the guest houses. But I have heard that they are very good.

It is best to explore the French Quarter and the area around the ashram on foot. I walked to the ashram and joined the queue of people waiting for their turn to enter the ashram premises through a small door. I had expected the main ashram building to be quite large, but it is surprisingly small, a rather unassuming structure which you enter directly from the footpath outside. Later I came to realize that the ashram is spread out over the French Quarter in the form of numerous small units, all painted in the characteristic white and grey. There are guest houses, dining halls, book shops, educational institutes and cottage industries. These industries are engaged in activities like batik painting, embroidery, handmade paper, incense sticks, herbal soaps, candles, oils, perfumes and book publishing. You have to see the variety of incense sticks sold under the brand name 'Auroshikha' to believe their extensive range. Their packing is very attractive and their scent divine. SABDA (Sri Aurobindo Book Distribution Agency) is a well-maintained bookshop selling literature based on Sri Aurobindo's and the Mother's philosophy.

The main ashram building that houses the samadhi (tomb or cenotaph) of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, is open for visitors for four hours in the morning and four hours in the afternoon/evening, with a two-hour break in between. As you enter the premises, you are led through a flower-filled little garden path towards the inner courtyard where the samadhi occupies the centre stage. The samadhi is a simple marble structure under the canopy of the branches of a large tree. But what is striking is the elaborate decoration on it done with fresh flowers. It is completely covered with an arrangement of colourful blossoms, making the area redolent with their mixed fragrance. People come silently, kneel down to touch the samadhi with their forehead, then move away to sit in the courtyard that extends on all four sides of the samadhi. Everybody sits quietly, in meditation or prayer. No cell phones, no music, no talking, no clicking of cameras as photography is not permitted...only occasional chirping of birds. For most, this is the high point of their visit to Pondicherry. Spending some quiet moments near the samadhi is an enriching experience.

My favourite place to visit after the main ashram building is the Goubert Avenue which runs parallel to the beach. It is within walking distance from the ashram. The seat of the local government, the secretariat is located along this avenue. Some lovely guest houses and hotels occupy other places of pride along this beautiful promenade. The beach here is lined with rocks, not sand. A prominent landmark in this area is the tall black statue of Mahatma Gandhi standing under a white dome supported by pillars. Walking along this not-so-crowded avenue with balmy breeze blowing from the majestic Bay of Bengal is very enjoyable.

Another place of interest very close to the ashram is the Manakula Vinayagar Temple. It has been around even before the French came and settled in Pondicherry somewhere around 1670. It is a Ganesha temple and there is always an elephant at the entrance to bless people. Outside, there are little shops selling knick-knacks. I loved browsing in them before buying some pretty incense stick holders carved from light green stone. The lanes around the ashram are lined with small bookshops, boutiques and little eateries. It is fun walking around there.

About eight kilometres from Pondicherry is the experimental township called Auroville. It was founded by the Mother in 1968 with an idea of international brotherhood and harmonious community living. At the heart of this sprawling township is Matrimandir, a golden metallic sphere. Entry into this magnificent dome is restricted as it is reserved for those who wish to practise meditation seriously.

One can spend a few days in Pondicherry or one can just make a day-long trip from Chennai, as I did. Either way, it is a trip that soothes you, and refreshes you before you get back to your busy life in the city.

Delhi In September : Stuffy, Sultry And Sticky

September is thankfully the last of the trio of the most unbearable months in the nation's capital. It is hard to classify this month under any particular season, for it is nothing but a continuation of the seemingly unending spell of heat coupled with humidity. Residents of Delhi who survive three long months of dry summer followed by another three months of muggy summer wait eagerly for September to end, hoping to see some light at the end of the dark tunnel. It does rain at times, but not so much as it did in August. The cloud cover disappears and most of the times, the sun shines brightly, sometimes fiercely over weary Delhiites. The inhospitable weather comes as a rude shock to people visiting Delhi. The city is swelteringly stuffy with its trees looking lifeless and forlorn, for there is no breeze to rustle through their leaves and make them sway with happiness.

Photo by Prateek

The Mother's International School on Aurobindo Marg is an oasis of tranquillity amidst the rapidly growing urban stretches around it. Situated inside the serene Aurobindo Ashram premises, it is one of the most sought-after schools in Delhi. It is Teachers' Day and the 12th graders are decked up in colourful clothes. Girls in sarees and boys in ethnic Indian ensemble or other formals. It is their final year in school and they are playing the role of their teachers today, letting the real teachers go for an outing or a picnic. It is fun time for everybody as these young teachers 'teach' in classrooms mimicking their teachers, assume an air of authority occupying the hallowed offices of the principal and vice-principal, and enjoy an easy access to the staff rooms and other normally out-of-reach areas in the school. Surely a nice way to spend a day dedicated to teachers, marking the birthday of Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, our second President and a great teacher himself. Similar activities are taking place in schools across the city and the whole country. Students are showing their appreciation for their teachers by gifting flowers and cards to them.

While it is fun and games in the idyllic world of school kids, it is not the same in the real world outside. Businesses like jewellery, catering and real estate suffer a temporary slump as people are averse to making an important purchase or having an auspicious occasion like a wedding or an engagement during 'pitrupaksha'. It is a fortnight-long period of paying respect to one's ancestors. Some people observe specific rituals, others engage in charitable activities, while the rest don't really do anything. But a large number of people desist from making a big monetary transaction or having a celebration in the family, waiting patiently for this span, more commonly called 'shradh' in Delhi to pass.

The shradh fortnight ends and then begins a very auspicious interval of nine days and nine nights called 'navaratri'. The life of Lord Rama is enacted in 'Ramlilas' through the nine nights leading to Dussehra. Most of the action takes place in Old Delhi. Ramlila Maidan is of course well known, though maybe people know it now more as the venue of Anna Hazare's fast than as the ground where Ramlilas have been happening for years. All the grounds where a Ramlila takes place, are generally abuzz with activity much before the show starts. There is a carnival-like atmosphere with food stalls, toy stalls and fun rides for children. Ramlila is a kind of folk theatre, but it is keeping up with the changing times. Lav Kush Ramlila in Delhi has a countdown counter ticking on its website and promises online live webcast of the event as the drama unfolds.

Navaratri is also the time for worshipping the Goddess in her myriad forms. Devotees throng Her temples all over Delhi. Prominent among them are the Kalkaji Mandir in Okhla Industrial Area and the Aadya Katyayani Shaktipeeth popularly known as Chhatarpur Mandir on Gurgaon-Mehrauli Road. People wait patiently in long serpentine queues to get a darshan of the heavily decorated and bejewelled idol of the Goddess. My favourite temple is the little Kamakshi Temple situated on Aruna Asaf Ali Marg, bang opposite the Jawaharlal Nehru University gate. It belongs to the Kanchi Kamakoti Trust and is frequented mostly by the capital's Tamil population. It is lovely, has open areas on all the four sides and sports beautiful floral decoration around the idol. You may even chance upon some delicious lemon rice or spicy sundal if you happen to visit the temple when families take turns to distribute these goodies there.

Chittaranjan Park, Delhi's Bengali enclave is getting ready for the most awaited period of the year. The end of pitrupaksha brings Mahalaya, starting the countdown to the four most important days beginning with saptami. It is time to welcome, adore and worship Durga. It is the puja time...a time for new clothes, good food and holiday with family and friends.

Elsewhere in the country, Ganapati festival and Garba/Dandiya dances are on. But in Delhi, these celebrations are restricted to pockets where there is a concentration of Maharashtrian and Gujarati communities, not leaving their mark on the overall social/religious calendar of the city. People from all the Indian states live in Delhi and you meet a nice sprinkling of them at your school or work, but the geographical location of the city does lend it a distinct North Indian flavour, making saadi Dilli a vibrant, fun-loving metropolis.

Delhi In August : Under A Canopy Of Clouds

It is a rain-swept morning. The city has been under a canopy of clouds for some days. The downpour has been steady through most of the previous night. The streets are waterlogged. School kids decked in colourful raincoats or covered under huge umbrellas walk to their bus stops braving the rains. Some of them march cautiously, some playfully while others step deliberately into the puddles that have appeared as a result of the incessant rains. When a car passes over a puddle, dirty water gets splashed onto them, much to the disgust of their mothers, who are walking them to their bus stops.

Across the street, sweet shops have extended their premises occupying the sidewalk, their makeshift shelves almost spilling onto the road. The temporary extensions are covered with tarpaulin sheets to protect them from rain and sun. Rakshabandhan is around the corner and sweets are going to be in great demand. Markets are flooded with rakhis, shiny ornamental threads that sisters tie around the wrists of their brothers as a symbol of mutual love, both wishing for each other's well-being. Shops selling women's merchandise are vying for buyers' attention by announcing discount sales, as brothers will be looking for suitable gifts for their sisters to mark Rakshabandhan.

The capital is geared up to celebrate the Independence Day in a big way. Security alerts are issued. Reports about security being 'beefed up' start appearing in the newspapers. Motorists buy miniature flags from sellers at traffic signals and adorn their dashboards with them. The area around the Red Fort is spruced up. The stage is set for the Prime Minister's address from the 'ramparts' of this historic castle overlooking the Yamuna. Ramparts...every year I come across this word only in the context of the Independence Day. Never have I seen or heard it being used anywhere else! Those watching the Prime Minister's address on the television can see people sitting in the foreground of the Red Fort fanning themselves with paper fans. Delhi is unbelievably hot and humid in spite of the rains. Short spells of rain do not bring any respite. Unless it rains continuously for a long time, there is no chance of cooling down.

The holy month of Ramzan has begun. Believers abstain from food and drink each day from sunrise to sunset during this month. Everyday, sehri (the time to start the fast) and iftar (the time to end it) hours appear in the newspapers. Iftar parties are thrown in the evenings by Delhi's political bigwigs. At the end of the month, it is celebration time on the day of the Ramzan Id. All the mosques wear a festive look. Thousands congregate for prayers at the Jama Masjid, the 17th century grand mosque in Old Delhi. They present a beautiful picture sitting down in the courtyard in neat rows and kneeling in obeisance.

Pragati Maidan, the huge expanse of exhibition grounds along Mathura Road is hosting the Delhi Book Fair. The crowds are moderate on weekdays. On weekends, hordes of book lovers descend on the venue. For some, it is a family picnic. Browse in the air-conditioned halls, eat at one of the numerous food stalls, catch a movie at Shakuntalam before heading home late in the evening. The parking lots next to the Supreme Court get filled very quickly. Maybe it is a good idea to use public transport, especially on weekends.

 All over the city, temples are decorated with lights and flowers to celebrate Janmashtami, birth anniversary of Lord Krishna. Some put up tableaux depicting various events-- from his birth at the stroke of midnight in a prison in Mathura till the slaying of his evil uncle Kansa. Festivities, keertans and bhajans continue late into the night. Birla Mandir in Central Delhi and ISKCON temple in East of Kailash are the main hubs of activity. Devotees throng these places, some planning to spend the whole day there. Religious processions are taken out, pandals are erected outside temples to provide shelter to the visitors, prasad is distributed and cultural programs are organized days before the festival.

The humid and damp weather does not dampen the spirits of Delhiites. So what if washed clothes don't dry properly, so what if roads are submerged under knee-deep water, so what if your domestic help does not turn up because it has been raining, so what if 'low-lying' areas get flooded as a result of heavy rains, so what if the mercury hasn't moved from where it was in July? Patriotic ballads and Rakshabandhan songs blare from FM radios and loudspeakers erected in neighbourhoods. Sweets are relished, holidays are planned around long weekends and families get together for celebrations. After all, they don't call it 'Dilli Dilwaalon ki'  for nothing!

Life, Zindagi And More

Call it male bonding, love and relationships in modern times, friendship or romance, Zoya Akhtar's latest offering 'Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara' (ZNMD) is a film that has all this and more. It is a mainstream film made for the masses, but it manages to strike a chord with the viewers in its own sweet and refreshing way. These days, when the lifespan of a film is very short, it is hard to catch the attention of viewers, let alone make an impression on them. We seem to have forgotten that a normal, commercial film can be meaningful, what with the bevy of inane movies being released every week. ZNMD differs from them in many ways. It is not rollickingly funny, but it has its funny moments. It does not portray stark reality in an unflattering way, but it mirrors contemporary urban Indians very plausibly. It is not preachy, but it gets its message across in a light-hearted manner. In short, Zoya Akhtar has achieved a fine balance. Her film holds you with a firm grip and takes you along on a trip literally and metaphorically. While the literal bit takes place through scenic locales of Spain, the metaphorical journey takes you through the emotional worlds of its characters.

And what an array of wonderful characters brought to life on screen by the talented cast! 'Restraint' seems to be the keyword in making this film. Nothing is larger than life here. The situations and the characters are picked from the upper class urban reality around us. There is no crime, no abusive language, no melodrama, no cheap thrills and no vulgarity. ZNMD has shown that it is possible to make an entertaining film without these staples that usually go into the making of a masala movie. Even Katrina Kaif's appeal is used with a lot of economy, elevating her to the status of an actress than that of a mere glamour doll.

It is Katrina who gets to dispense the premier message of the film: live for the moment, live today as if there is no tomorrow. And she does it not through hollow words, but with her acts. She lives her message while portraying the persona of a free-spirited young woman. And that is why it is so easy for Hrithik Roshan to not only accept it, but to adapt himself to live according to her philosophy. But it is not Hrithik's story alone. The stories of Abhay Deol and Farhan Akhtar are interwoven nicely, making it a homogeneous, free-flowing narrative.

ZNMD has reduced the gulf between small budget, arty, serious cinema and big budget, commercial cinema considerably. Kudos to the Akhtar siblings for presenting a neat package to discerning audiences. A well-written script, good storytelling, superior performances and technical mastery have gone hand in hand to make the film a success. Of course there are some flaws, but they are not major and can be ignored. Moreover, this is not meant to be a review of the film. Umpteen reviews have appeared in the newspapers, magazines and on the net. These are just my impressions of the movie and what I liked about it.

Delhi In July : A Test Of Tolerance

Delhi is a city of distinct seasons. It has a different look and a different feel in each season. Naturally, weather is a very important topic of conversation for Delhiites. Year in and year out, they say the same things to one another and feel sad or happy about the weather. Having spent a major part of my life in Delhi, I have experienced the agony and the ecstasy of the Delhi weather. I am trying to put together a collage of the various faces of Delhi in different seasons. I may do it month by month or I may club a couple of months together. First in the series is the month of July.

It is hard to say which is the cruellest month in Delhi (for there are many), but July will certainly qualify to be one of the top contenders. The high temperatures along with high humidity levels are enough to test the tolerance and patience of the toughest of tough people. If you are outdoors, the hot sun saps your energy in no time. If indoors, the sweat makes you sticky and miserable. The fan whirring overhead is of little help. But life does go on. In fact, schools reopen after summer holidays in the first week of July. Your freshly bathed little one who went to school wearing a clean uniform in the morning, returns home with damp hair, sweaty wet shirt and smelly socks. The water in the poor kid's water bottle is over. It is quite an effort to carry the heavy backpack. There is an odd umbrella or raincoat too. The kid goes back to school again the next day and comes back in a dishevelled state, and the same ordeal continues the day after the next day and the day after that. July always seems to be very long. There are 31 days and no extra holidays as no major festival or national holiday falls in this month.

To make up for this gloomy scene, nature does throw in some goodies even in this inhospitable month. When you step out in the evening, it is still hot, but at least the sun is not blazing ferociously above you. You walk a little and a pleasant whiff of corn on the cob being roasted on a makeshift fire by the streetside greets you. If you care for one, the seller dabs it with fresh lemon and tangy spices and hands it over to you. Roasted corn on the cob tastes best on a rainy day when it has just stopped raining and the poor seller is struggling to keep the roadside fire going. Pay him more than he asks for and the smile on his face will make the whole experience worth a lot more.

Elsewhere in the market, luscious plums have arrived. The dark red or blackish red fruit is sometimes covered with a dusty white coating. Bring home some plums, wash them and bite into their soft flesh. If you are lucky, you may chance upon a deliciously sweet fruit. But you are equally likely to find a tart one. Sweet or tart, plums are a treat, especially because they are seasonal and it is hard to find them at other times of the year.

Central Delhi, or more specifically, the area around India Gate has a large number of jamun trees lining its sidewalks. Come July, the sidewalks turn purple as they get covered with jamuns that fall off the trees. These trees were planted at the time of the planning and building of Central Delhi. So they are old and yield a lot of fruit. The trees are leased to contractors who manage their produce. Urchins who are spending a quiet afternoon under the trees feast on whatever they can get out of the fallen jamuns. Another attraction for them is to see if they can jump into the Boat Club lake for a cool dip on a hot and muggy afternoon.

The swim in the Boat Club waters provides temporary relief. It is still very hot although the dust storms that are so characteristic of the Delhi summer have stopped. But the rain Gods are not yet smiling on the capital. Some days dawn bright and clear with absolutely no trace of a cloud. Newspapers and television screens tell you that it is raining cats and dogs in Mumbai and you long to go there. But you are in Delhi, where the afternoon is frighteningly still. On some days, the same stillness envelopes Delhi through the evening and the night. But on some rare days, the city gets drenched with a sudden evening shower and the setting sun appears again on the skyline. That is precisely the time to get out of the house and enjoy the best Delhi can offer under given circumstances.