Idon’t know about you, but these are just 40 of the hundreds of thoughts that cross my mind when I run:
And now you can stop smiling at the idea of how similar mine and your “running thoughts” are.
Let me tell you also that I am not a winter person. I have a hard time getting out the house, let alone going for a run in freezing temperatures in the wee hours of the morning. And now that Airtel Delhi Half Marathon (ADHM) is also done, I have truly run out of reasons to brave the cold and the wind.
But I have already taken a week off since ADHM and now, I have to get back into the groove. I could run in a cozy gym on a treadmill but I would much rather watch Prem Ratan Dhan Paayo (no, not really). This is usually the time when I start cursing myself for registering for the Mumbai full. So, long runs mean 4 am alarms and pushing myself through the supremely powerful cozy comforters and talking to motivating myself to go out there and give it my all.
Here are some things I try telling myself:
Run any time of the day: In winters I run whenever I feel like it. It doesn’t have to be early morning or late evening or even in the afternoons.
Gratitude: I remind myself there are so many people who want to do this and be in my place but can’t. It’s my way of being thankful for a healthy body.
Right gear: The right winter gear that keeps me sufficiently warm in order to take that first step out of the house is key. On particularly gloomy days, the brighter, the better. And I prefer running in shorter loops in case I need to get rid of or add layers.
Running with friends: That’s the only way I can do it during peak winters. People in the north know what I’m talking about.
To binge guilt free: I eat moderately for most part of the year, but during winters I want that levy to have that cup of hot chocolate with cream at Starbucks and the paranthas laden with the very salty Amul butter!
I’m badass: Not too many have the guts and determination to do it. And “You are totally mad” sounds sweeter when you finish your run in freezing cold temperatures.
By signing up for shorter runs: I couldn’t have thought of this two years ago, but now we have enough and more short runs (5 km and 10 km) to choose from. The idea is to stay active.
Post-run chai tastes really, like really good.
Winter is here!
Amitabh Bachchan has called her his favourite actress. Indeed, even now, as she was in her prime, Waheeda Rehman is the embodiment of classic beauty. While her contemporary Madhubala was the Venus of Indian cinema, Waheeda Rehman was the chaudhvin ka chand.
DANCING INTO THE LIMELIGHT
Rehman is the embodiment of classic beauty with a truly transcendental appeal, and one of the greatest actresses that Indian cinema has ever seen. Trained as a dancer, she took to acting as if born to it, instinctively. When she looked at the camera she could stun viewers with an indescribable photogenic magic, which was sensual in such an everyday way.
Born in Chinglepet in Tamil Nadu, Rehman’s parents, despite facing criticism, encouraged their daughters (all three of them) to train in Bharatnatyam. Rehman’s first public performance was in honour of then Viceroy of India, C Rajagopalachari, at the age of 10. It was perhaps because of the rigour of her dance training that she exploded on celluloid only through her dances. Her early films include the MGR P Bhanumathi starrer Alibabavum 40 thirudargalum (1955) where the popular song Salaam babu was picturised on her. Her dance number, Eruvaka sagaloi in the Telugu film Rojulu marayi (1955), was one of the primary reasons behind the huge success of the film.
“I started working in films when I was 12 or 13. I had lost my father by then. So all this is the power of destiny,” says Rehman. Recalling the state of mind of a young girl’s first brush with fame, she remembers, “My mother and I were sent by the producer to a theatre to see the reaction of the audiences. And it was true! They indeed were showering coins at the screen! At that time, my only thought was, who collects these coins?”
Director-actor Guru Dutt heard about the success of Rojulu marayi and Rehman’s dance when he was on a visit to Hyderabad. “It so happened that he was sitting in the office of a distributor and there was a lot of halla in the street below. It was my car that entered a film event and the people were cheering for me. And Guru Dutt ji was told how this non-actor and a dancer had caused the frenzy,” remembers Rehman. “Rojulu marayi literally means, the days have changed. For me, it did happen after all,” says Rehman.
GETTING THE HANG OF THINGS
Dutt met her and persuaded Rehman’s mother to appear in Hindi cinema as well. Recalling her interaction with Dutt when she was called from Chennai to Mumbai to sign C.I.D, Rehman says, “I was told my name was too aristocratic and lacked the glamorous appeal of cinema. I naturally put my foot down. Dutt cited examples of Dilip Kumar, Nargis, Meena Kumari, Madhubala and many others who had adopted a screen name. But he had to give up,” she says.
Her breakthrough role followed in the subsequent year’s Pyaasa, as Gulabo, a prostitute with the heart of gold. It is said it was during the making of Pyaasa that Guru Dutt lost his heart to her. But to be fair to Rehman, for all that has been written about her relationship with Dutt, she has always maintained an enigmatic and dignified silence over the entire “affair”, not saying anything even after Guru Dutt’s death in 1964.
Rehman completed Sahib bibi aur ghulam (1962) under some strain, owing to the relationship between the much-married Dutt and Rehman. With time, she and Dutt drifted apart professionally, too. Rehman did not renew her contract with him after the lukewarm response to the film at the Berlin Film Festival in 1963. She also worked with Satyajit Ray in Abhijan (1962), which by a strange twist is considered the maestro’s weakest film. Rehman considers it an experience of a lifetime and says, “Satyajit Ray had clarity of thought. He knew how and where to edit a shot and was flexible with his actors. It was amazing to learn the detailed planning he underwent so his actors were at ease during the shoot.”
However, it was with Guide (1965) that Rehman reached the pinnacle of her acting career in Hindi movies. Rosie was an audacious role to play then — that of a woman who goes against the grain of being a typical Indian woman and leaves her oppressive husband to live in with her lover, a guide who helps her in her ambitions to become a famous dancer. Yet, Rehman was able to humanise Rosie to get the viewer’s sympathy in spite of the socalled negative shades to her character that went against prevailing social norms
“I look back upon Guide as a turning point because I got an opportunity to dance — something that I had never done in my previous films. I told Dev Anand that I will do this film on one condition — that even if the duration of the film increases and you have to edit, feel free to edit my dialogues but please don’t cut my dance sequences.”
Remembering something her father said when questioned about why he was encouraging his daughters to dance, Rehman says, “Guide became my ode to my father. He said no art, no work, is shameful. It is how we conduct ourselves while doing it that it gets the reputation it does. I remembered that when I was shooting for Guide.”
Between Guide and her marriage in 1974 (to one-time co-actor in the film Shagun, Kamaljeet, also known as Shashi Rekhi), Rehman did roles that were commercially successful as well as histrionically challenging. Ram aur Shyam, Patthar ke sanam, Teesri kasam, Khamoshi, Reshma aur Shera were all made during this time.
This followed a gradual moving away from the arc lights, which also happened at a time when she moved with her family to her farmhouse on the outskirts of Bangalore. “That part of my life was very contented. Ek thehraav tha jisme mujhe koi bhi stress nahi tha,” she says. This was also the time when she busied herself marketing her brand of breakfast cereal.
LIVING LIFE
“I am thankful to the Almighty that I have had the opportunity to live life to its fullest, be it in my childhood, as a performer, or as a householder. Even now, I live each day as a new one. I have a circle of friends — Asha (Parekh), Helen, Shammiji — we go out for movie outings, picnics, even holidays abroad!” she says, adding, “We’ve been friends since the 1960s. We never saw each other as rivals and were friends from the start. There was no concept of any kind of jealousy or competition because our niches were so different.”
Bollywood’s most exuberant girl-buddy club recently visited Alaska and went on a Scandinavian sojourn. “We try to meet up as much as possible. We can gossip and talk forever! My daughter Kashvi knows she shouldn’t telephone me if I am out lunching with my friends,” she says laughing.
YESTERDAY ONCE MORE
Waheeda Rehman shifted back to Mumbai after her husband passed away. She came back into movies playing mother to Anil Kapoor in Mashaal and later Abhishek Bachchan and Fardeen Khan in Anupam Kher’s directorial debut, Om Jai Jagadish. She was also seen in Aparna Sen’s 15 Park Avenue (2005), Deepa Mehta’s Water (2005) and Rakeysh Mehra’s Rang De Basanti (2006).
As the ditty goes, Jo bhi ho tum khuda ki kasam, lajawab ho...
OUR INADEQUACIES in recounting the feats of outstanding dedication and verve of the Corps of Engineers of the Indian Army in providing succour to the people in distress and peril are more than made up by our public consciousness. Seven teams from this Corps had participated in the rescue effort in the recent floods in Chennai. Sappers, as they are historically known, have always been omnipresent key players in all rescue and relief activities and have set a benchmark for service to our nation. “The sands of time bear testimony to the innumerable and vast array of indomitable tasks undertaken by the Sappers ranging from construction of dams, roads, jetties and infrastructure to helping in healing the scars of death and destruction in disasters” wrote an eulogy to this entity.
Without their helping hands during the cyclone of Orissa in 1999, the earthquake of Bhuj in 2001, the devastation wreaked by the Tsunami in 2004, and the most recent earthquake of 2005 in Jammu and Kashmir, these natural disasters would have been cataclysmic. The Sappers have been the saviours in the shared beliefs in our nation’s history. To term their contribution simplistically as disaster mitigation, therefore, is an act in abject humility.
With a measure of intense nostalgia, one read, in August 1959, of the perilous collapse of the diversion tunnel and flooding of the chamber, galleries and the power house with the waters of the Gobind Sagar reservoir at the nation’s showpiece, the iconic Bhakra dam. The occurrence had threatened the very existence of the dam itself, when the Sappers led by Lt Col PLN Choudary launched “Operation Madhuri” to save the project and countless lives. In a dayand-night incessant endeavour, which lasted for nearly four months, they had transported thousands of 20 tons concrete blocks on Bailey rafts to release them at selected points and block the tunnel finally.
The Indian Sappers were an infant force then. Within two years in 1961, they handled two calamities again in Maharashtra. First, when the Panshet dam burst with the water destroying everything in its wake, and the second, when the Khadakvasla Dam burst and flooded the city of Pune. Working relentlessly, the Sappers pulled down unsafe buildings, cleared mounds of debris and constructed temporary shelters. In 1978, with the weakening of the Lakshya dam at Kudremukh iron-ore project site in Karnataka, the Sapper’s team braved strong water currents to build a revetment. This scant concern for their personal safety was seen again in saving the industrial township of Morvi from being turned into a submerged morgue, in 1979.
Earthquakes have their own tragic stories to tell, one of which is the poignant narrative of the 1950 quake of Richter (R) 8.7 magnitude in Assam faced by the newly-born independent Indian state. Earth convulsions had caused the river to gush above the embankments and the region’s topography had altered shape. An awesome human toll was predicted and the Sappers had spearheaded with an army rescue team to ameliorate people’s adversity and misfortune.
They were again at the forefront to save life and property in 1967, when Koyna in Maharashtra was struck by a R-7.5 magnitude quake threatening the Koyna dam. This time, they not only straightened the precariously looming hoist tower but pitched in with the local police to maintain order in the town in the midst of chaos. In1988, they saved Darbhanga in Bihar from utter ruin from the aftermath of a quake, which engulfed the whole state. The performance by the nine columns of Sappers for quake relief operations to Latur in Maharashtra in 1993 is still quite distinct in the memories of the citizenry. The saviours were deployed the very day when the horrendous calamity hit the regions of Latur and Osmanabad and claimed nearly 8,000 lives and injured16,000 people.
In the historicity of rising statistics, it would seem the nation was to receive a service of the most exceptional order from the Sappers in the ensuing years. We recall the 1999 quake in Garhwal, after which, amongst many of their successes was restoring a six lakh litres of everyday water supply to the towns of Chamoli and Gopeshwar.
The R-7.9 magnitude quake to hit Bhuj, Gujarat in 2001, is deemed as the second strongest seismic calamity to afflict the nation. Nearly 20,000 people perished and 2,00,000 were injured. About 3,000 people died in the city of Bhuj alone. The ferocity of the tectonic upheaval left an impact over an area of nearly 40,000 sq km.
The all-out rescue war launched by the Sappers was spread over a wide front. A field company moved even without a former requisition from the state administration and pulled out 57 people buried alive. Two Sapper regiments deployed in Bachchau and Anjar were the calming influence for the panic-stricken populace during tremors that persisted for a month. Two more regiments were rushed to the region in late January and for the first time, they conducted controlled demolition of unsafe multi-storied buildings to avert further danger
The challenges of 2005 earthquake with its epicenter in PoK, similar in magnitude to the Gujarat quake, was treated with sensitivity, in expeditiously refurbishing long closed border points for passage of relief supplies. A chronicle recording the feats of the Sappers battling the floods would be immense and spread over national space and time. Back in 1957, they had subverted the fury of the River Yamuna to guarantee that the taps in the capital city of Delhi did not run dry; an effort that lasted through the night. In the same year, in one of the most risky conditions, Lance Naik Renugopal worsted the onslaught of the River Poonch’s rapidly rising waters and enabled the launch of a 600-feet cableway. The people called it “Madras Mail”. The President honoured Renugopal with the award of Ashok Chakra Class III. During Operation Bandhan in 1958, in flood conditions, the Sappers launched a Bailey Bridge in just 28 hours to provide continuity in a gap in the BombayGoa highway. The fury of the Mahanadi River was tamed by them in Orissa in 1961, and an inland water transport company deployed to rescue marooned people.
In 1963, they were in Mainpuri, UP. In 1969-70 they were in West Bengal. In 1972 they saved tourists in Bharatpur, UP. And in 1973, they battled the floods in Samastipur, Bihar to lose in death, Sapper Bhola Prasad Singh, whilst attempting to protect people from getting electrocuted. He was bestowed with a Shaurya Chakra posthumously. The cities of Patna and Ujjain were saved in 1975 in separate actions. In 1976, the Sappers saved Keravali and Kheragarh Tehsils in UP, the town of Silchar in Assam, and eventually went on to provide communication links for movement of vehicles in the cyclone affected Tamil Nadu coast. Their regiments received three Vishisht Seva medals for these feats.
These are only a few stories to tell and to recall that since then Sapper regiments have been called out at least on 31 separate occasions to ameliorate emergency flood conditions. The recent 2004 tsunami evoked a transnational response when we saw them provide succour to the affected civilians not just in India but also in Sri Lanka and the Maldives. The Sappers have been a phenomenon in public service.
MEHAK CHOWDHARY// Ever since Delhi’s chief minister announced the odd-even scheme in Delhi to reduce vehicular traffic and correspondingly, bring down particulate matter levels which are soaring to deathly highs, we’ve all become urban planners, policymakers, environmentalists and soothsayers. Some decry the measure believing the end outcome of a possible 5 per cent overall reduction in particulate matter (PM) levels is as good as negligible, others are actively waiting to start making a move in favour of the environment; people are discussing and debating across offices and at parties, through news and social mediums. And while thought of having the comfort of your car taken away three days in a week has made citizens across the country qualified environment and public policy critics, at least we are discussing the environment.
Delhi is slowly becoming a gas chamber. Did you see the horrific images of Beijing last month, covered in layers of smog without the sun peeping through? Delhi’s particulate matter levels, especially PM 2.5, which causes permanent damage to lungs, are significantly higher than what Beijing was at its worst. On Christmas Eve, an environmentalist friend measured PM 2.5 at over 500 inside his house; so just imagine the nightmare outside in which we walk across stores, send children out to play and inhale while jogging across the Lodi Gardens.
At this critical juncture, the odd-even scheme needs to be seen for what it is — an effort by the state government to mobilise citizens towards taking environmentally-conscious steps for the sake of their health and their own city. It’s not Kejriwal’s oddeven scheme — don’t put a political overtone to it. It’s simply a scheme to reduce the number of cars on the road by 50 per cent, to diminish the time spent on the road, which further adds to pollution caused not just be vehicular traffic, but also by tyre tread on road surface and to give us in Delhi more time to think and plan a day out.
By itself, the net positive outcome of this scheme is likely to be only a 5 per cent reduction. It’s also an ambitious plan, given that a majority of this smog has been caused by field and biomass burning across Punjab through September-October, so the culprit is not being held; the victims are being asked to mobilise themselves. But where it’s playing a crucial role is exactly that — in mobilising thought and action towards the environment — whether critics or allies, there’s public initiative and citizen awareness that has been unparalleled since the country got together to ensure Jessica Lal’s killer was given a life sentence.
A recent social media survey by NetImpact solutions showed that 34 per cent of Delhiites were in favour of the scheme, while another 45 per cent chose to wait and watch. That’s over 70 per cent of Delhi willing to exert themselves for the sake of the environment, the city’s present and their families’ future.
Critical to the implementation of the scheme will be the government of Delhi’s ability to address the gaps in public transport, to strengthen the metro, which says it will not be able to deal with the increased loads in the fortnight, and to ensure a safe environment for women to move around in the city. The overall mood promises to be the beginning of a movement, almost revolutionary, but it simultaneously requires sustained, detailed and holistic education of the environment and further initiatives to make it Delhi’s crowning glory.
Mehak Chowdhary is Delhi-based director of Blue Apple Image Consultants, with a broadcast journalism background. A keen observer of issues, Chowdhary has worked in major international cities.
GURSIMRAN SINGH// Shame that it took a crisis of unbreathable air before the state took a step towards trying to do something about the pollution levels and the traffic woes. Even bigger shame that Arvind Kejriwal has only found a micro solution (which in itself is only going to be adopted as an “experiment”) to a crisis situation. In the first phase of this odd-even plan, only four-wheelers are being targeted when two wheelers, three wheelers, lorries, and any other form of transport using fossil fuels should be in the ambit
This idea is bound to fail because the Delhi Police does not have the kind of manpower required to implement this decision. When there are not enough traffic policemen to guard traffic signals, how can the same machinery implement a decision which requires far more effective policing? How will they monitor the entry of vehicles on the road? In Mexico, the scheme failed as people bought second-hand cars to get an odd or even car numbers and beat the system. The net result was that more cars was added onto the road and, hence, more pollution in the air. Delhi people will not be too far on this plan. People who can afford to buy a second car will be now be willing to pay a premium for an odd or even car at the car dealership.
The news that women drivers are being exempted is good for safety but it totally defeats the purpose of cleaning up the air. This will lead to women buying more cars and adding more pollution to the already toxic air.
If Delhi is serious about improving air quality, it needs to focus not just on reducing cars but also standing up for non-polluting citizens. Apart from stiff fines and chalaans, the state must give pedestrians and cyclists top billing.
The state is not incentivising cycles and cycle rickshaws, nor disincentivising cars through heavy taxes, steep parking fees, banning parking in public spaces inside residential colonies, and forbidding the entry of cars in major retail spaces.
Why not make a start with government officials getting rid of their cars? Why must the tax payer’s neck be on the guillotine always
Burning of wood, garbage, rubber and other materials for heating, cooking or any other purpose should be banned, people caught should be penalised and alternatives should be found by government authorities. All this is possible only when a proper mechanism of implementation, enforcement and alternates is worked out.
All constructions in the city should adhere to strict laws and codes. Dumping of construction materials on roadsides should be banned and the entire building construction should be enclosed in a proper barrier so that dust and related debris do not spread in the vicinity or get added to the air.
Night cleaning of streets with proper machinery will enable all dust and debris to be removed and chances of it being added back into the air will be minimised. Industrial areas, factories, and power plants should have dust filters and other anti-pollution measures which the government should provide incentive and subsidy.
Before they clamp down on private transport, authorities must augment public transport, integrate metro with buses, add non-motorised lanes on all major corridors, build roads that are urban streets and not highways, promote carpooling and car-sharing, and initiate cycle-sharing schemes. Instead of halfbaked brainwaves that are constantly in the experimental phase, the powers-that-be need to adopt stringent emissions standards by advancing Euro VI norms, shift procurement of government vehicles to cleaner fuels, create low emissions zones in the city, create entry barriers for polluting vehicles through carbon tax, and develop congestion charging framework.
Clearly, the time is not for experiments, but a concrete and comprehensive strategy.
Gursimran Singh is an independent filmmaker based out of Delhi and is founder and director of Mediaworks, a creative filmmaking enterprise.
Most of us living in the comforts and confines of our homes never give a second thought to what happens to the waste once we dispose it off. While we are quick to buy new things, what happens to the old ones or how they are disposed off? How do the waste collectors segregate this waste and dispose it is never a topic of discussion.
Increasing urbanisation and population growth leads to even more waste production, stressing the already brimming landfills, resulting in a waste management crisis. Take the case of Bangalore, where nearby villages such as Mavallipura and Mandur protested and blocked the access of the garbage trucks to landfills in their area, leading to garbage pile-ups on the city’s streets. Or the recent floods in Chennai, which brought a lot of garbage on the shores of the sea, and elsewhere. To top it all, rag/ waste pickers work in hazardous and inhuman conditions.
They have to deal with dangerous chemicals, metals or unhygienic materials while trying to eke out a living by collecting and segregating waste. Most of these people are illiterate and untrained, and a majority of them end up suffering from skin and respiratory diseases and even cancer as they get exposed to chemical poisoning or infections caused by biological waste. Not the least, a human being’s right to live with dignity is also compromised.
Seeing their condition, Subroto Bagchi, chairman of MindTree, a leading IT services company, mooted the idea to use IT as a tool to improve the life of rag pickers. It all started when Bagchi organised a waste trail for the Princess of the Netherlands, where he was moved by the plight of waste pickers.
THE SEED OF THE IDEA
The task to study the whole garbage cycle and come up with a solution was given to Prashant Mehra, the associate vice president, social inclusion, MindTree. Mehra is a company veteran with 16 years of experience. Using his understanding of the micro-business models, he introduced I Got Garbage (IGG), a cloud-based platform aimed to simplify waste management and transform rag pickers into an entrepreneur through a structured and governed waste management framework beneficial for the rag pickers, which was a key to effective waste management.
“IGG aims to not only improve the waste management situation, but to take rag pickers away from scavenging, and bring them to the source of waste as an entity and help them get better returns for their hard work,” Mehra points out. Since most of the offices, institutions, apartments and hotels constitute bulk waste generators and the Bruhat Bangalore Mahanagara Palike (BBMP) is not expected to serve them, it opens a wide field for them to provide services under IGG. From a being at a lower rung of the waste management cycle, they are invited to take on a leadership role and evolve as entrepreneurs in the city’s waste collection.
IGG was formally launched in Bangalore in June 2014, in collaboration with Hasiru Dala, a waste picker member-based organisation. “Our primary goal is to help cities manage solid waste better, through a proven and inclusive methodology that involves waste pickers, authorities, and communities, with technology providing the backbone. IGG has been developed/ funded as a corporate social responsibility (CSR) initiative,” Mehra explains.
Today, the IGG solution has impacted a network of close to 8,000 rag pickers, recycling 5000 tonnes of waste generated from close to one lakh waste generators.
THE MANY BENEFITS OF IGG
IGG services are delivered free of cost to municipalities. It is powered by the platform “Bridge”, which provides a gamut of capabilities such as programme management, governance, enterprise operations, online marketplace, community engagement, workforce mobilisation, and analytics and reporting, with multi-lingual support.
The initiative has not only helped make an impact on the lives of rag pickers, but also ensured that less waste goes to the landfills. The IGG solution can be used by a city administrator looking for a sustainable waste management solution or for municipality facing governance issues in day-to-day waste collection. It even helps in data management and measuring the impact of your initiatives. While the authorities provide good governance, IGG delivers a unique blend of micro-business models and technology that helps cities manage waste like never before. It has a real-time location tracking enabled for digitally controlled and highly efficient waste management operations, which makes it easy for volunteers, citizens, and waste collectors.
Under IGG, the company equips the waste workers with budget smartphones, through which they can check the maps and find out where they need to make pickups. The offices and households can sign up on igotgarbage.com, and get their garbage collected for free. The only condition is to sort out the waste into two bins — recyclable and organic waste — which results in a quick turnaround time for the waste picker. Since, IGG already has a database of all rag pickers and their locations, they can quickly assign them with the routes maximising their efficiency and in turn resulting in more being recycled. The same holds true for buyers; a rag picker can check the tags to see which buyers are located in her area and cut the downtime on selling the recyclable waste to the buyer.
For Hasiru Dala, the advantage has been a seamless management of the bio-data and profiling of its network of more than 7,000 waste pickers. Considering they have such a large network of people, IGG helps in keeping a record of their leaves, absences and even monitor the dry waste collection center DWCC in real time.
ZERO-WASTE WARD
IGG closely works with city schools and design student engagement programmes to drive awareness and action in waste management. “We believe that early involvement in social issues can transform students into a future generation of problem solvers, thus fostering a culture of possibilities and belief among children,” he says. Through digital engagements, field study and hands-on activities, students discover innovative solutions and undergo a powerful behavioral change, become consciously aware of their habits and take those learnings home.
For waste pickers, the benefit has been lesser working hours, increased income, better waste handling conditions, more recyclable waste and a sense of ownership towards their ventures.
After seeing the success of IGG, Mehra plans to use this IT platform to support micro-businesses and social enterprises, as well as helping to incubate businesses in these areas. By the end of 2016, the mission is to launch operations in 50 Indian cities. It is currently engaged with the municipalities of Pune, Varanasi, Indore, Pondicherry and Bhubaneshwar, to name a few.
Mehra’s aim is to achieve a zero-waste ward/ city model, where the entire waste generated is segregated and processed in a decentralised and eco-friendly manner. Achieving this in reality takes a highly integrated approach with factors such as technology, infrastructure, delivery model, community engagement, and governance playing a vital role. Although Mehra is confident with his offering, the cleansing has to start from within.
Mukesh Chhabra has an interesting hobby — he loves observing people’s faces. Whenever he’s out, he finds himself noticing people, their facial movements, their hand gestures, mannerisms, even their accents and their overall style of speaking.
You can’t blame Indian film industry’s biggest casting director for this uncanny interest. In his daily life, observing people is what earns him, quite literally, his bread and butter. For someone who shifted base to Mumbai from New Delhi almost a decade ago, with a diploma from Shri Ram Centre for Performing Arts, to carve a niche in the Hindi film industry, Chhabra is one of the most established casting directors of the industry today.
Not only does he cast actors for important commercial films and television serials and advertisements, directors — obviously impressed with his own skills as a theatre actor — hire him to hold acting workshops before their films go on the floors.
Chhabra’s rise to the top is interesting, especially given that the industry didn’t quite have the concept of “casting” actors for films. The rise of multiplexes, a corporate structure to filmmaking, which in turn facilitated film directors to tell interesting stories, has led to casting directors becoming integral to the film industry in the past decade or so. Chhabra, on his part, excels in the department simply because he has a background in theatre and understands just what the film director wants in his or her film. “My association with Mukesh started with Chillar Party and I feel he was spot-on with the casting. For me, 50 per cent of the film’s success depends on getting the cast right,” says Anurag Kashyap, noted film director who even gave Chhabra a bit role in his seminal film, Gangs of Wasseypur. The film industry, in fact, is full of praise for Chhabra and his talent — no surprise then that he was given special recognition for his effort at the recently concluded Stardust film award ceremony. What’s more, Sanjay Leela Bhansali is now set to launch Chhabra as a film director.
From the time I’ve known him and interacted with him, Chhabra’s work has grown tremendously. Back in 2009, when I first met him, he was a one-man army working out of a humble room, which he called his office. Today, he has a full-fledged company by the name of, what else, Mukesh Chhabra Casting Company with a bunch of enthusiastic employees who work hard in ensuring that the right talent is spotted for the right roles in films. It must be noted here that typically filmmakers — and production companies — decide on the lead roles (“for the sake of commerce”, as a film analyst explains) but where a casting director becomes relevant is in deciding the cast for all the other characters.
Clearly, Chhabra’s creative instinct and sensibility is aiding filmmakers in getting super cast for their films. In the bargain, however, Chhabra is also giving the industry stars in the making. Take a film such as Kai po che, for instance. Initially, the film director, Abhishek Kapoor, wanted established stars for the film. It was Chhabra, however, who took one look at the script and convinced the director to look for newcomers. Scouting for the right faces and the right talent, it is to Chhabra’s credit that actors such as Amit Sadh and Sushant Singh Rajput got noticed in the film industry. Kai po che became a surprise hit of its year and allowed viewers, critics, and industry experts to take note of the acting talent of actors such as Sadh and Rajput. The film also had Rajkummar Rao who would later give the industry another critically acclaimed film, Shahid. Here, too, it was Chhabra who convinced Hansal Mehta to cast Rao in the film.
Though absolutely fulfilling (given that you give wings to so many aspiring actors), being a casting director, Chhabra says, has its own challenges. While one has to be upfront in letting a beefed up, handsome or a pretty face know that they aren’t quite “actors”, one also has to be careful of not being in the news for the wrong reasons. Though he’s sympathetic to people’s aspirations, Chhabra is transparent in letting people know so that they don’t get deluded. This can, he admits, have a damaging effect on people who sometimes threaten him with dire consequences, pelt stones at his car and get aggressive while refusing to believe they can’t act.
There’s another challenge, he says: Sticking to your guns if you are convinced of an actor in the role even if the director isn’t. According to Chhabra, no matter how heated the argument, if you are convinced of an actor, the director has to be convinced.
Chabbra’s company opened up because he wanted to be thoroughly professional in the business of casting people for movies. From 11 am to 7 pm, every day, people are called for auditions. There are CCTV cameras installed and the entire idea of the process is to allow extreme professionalism to seep into the industry. Everything happens in a transparent manner at the company, with the clear aim of promoting the right talent and becoming the bridge between directors and actors.
What keeps Chhabra going despite the challenges is his vision — to improving the standards of cinema viewing and storytelling. Although he feels he was lucky in being at the right time at the right place (the complexion of Hindi cinema was gradually changing when I stepped in, he says), it’s his hard work and sheer will to keep going that has allowed him to grow phenomenally in the role of a casting director.
Now that he is going to don the proverbial directorial hat for his own debut film, we can only imagine the success Chhabra will deliver — in storytelling, in the casting, this show from Chhabra, like his other endeavours, is going to be a box office hit.
ON A cold winter evening, with my five-year-old tucked in bed, I start reading to her Stephen Alter’s latest novella, The Secret Sanctuary.
The dedication says it all: “Dedicated to every student who has gazed through a window and wished that she or he could escape outdoors instead of being trapped inside a classroom.” It speaks volumes to the child in all of us.
From the very first chapter, the reader is transported into a magical world of adventure. Easy, free-flowing prose and an unfolding quest make the story captivating. You want to finish the book in just one sitting from cover to cover. Writing from personal experience and observation, the author brings alive the flora and fauna of these first foothills of the Himalaya where he grew up.
The book’s 15 chapters are spread over 120 pages. The adventure begins with Manohar, Pradeep and Kamla, who walk to and from school every day, through the forest below Flag Hill, where this story begins. Doctor Pashupatinath Linnaeus Mukherjee, the naturalist, takes the readers along with the trio into a charmed world where humans share in peace with others, this corner of our blue planet.
Dr Mukherjee, a sort of mad-hatter, gives us a deep insight into the parallel world we share with, “animals and birds and reptiles and plants, insects and flowers, trees and worms, anything that moved or grew or changed with the seasons.”
Entertaining as well as educative, the characters teache us English and Latin names of flora and fauna which habitat Mussoorie and its surrounding hillocks. While the adventure progresses, the prose too moves effortlessly educating the reader.
The author speaks for all of us through Dr Mukherjee, when he says, “Until then I’d spent my whole life in the city. I thought that flowers only grew in pots. But when I saw the jungle for the first time, it was like opening a book that never ends, a story that keeps on going forever, chapter after chapter. Though we didn’t see a tiger, I saw wild elephants and all kinds of deer, even Rhoniceros unicornus. That was the first scientific name I learned.”
Over a dozen well-researched black and white illustrations by Prabha Mallya add to the beauty of the book.
This book is a must-read for all age groups, since it awakens the child in us all. That insatiable urge to escape the tedious monotony of our daily lives and live a life of adventure in the wild, even if it were just for a few hours. That’s what this novella is all about and that is exactly what makes it special.
ALL MY life, I’ve been torn between loving travelogues and hating them. I love them because they take me places whenever I’m unable to go places myself. And I hate them because, no matter how well they’re written, they can’t really show me how the places they talk about look. Even when there are pictures, there are only a few. And much as I appreciate my imagination, it’s a little difficult to satisfy wanderlust, even temporarily, by only imagining how a certain place looks.
So naturally, I loved the very idea of Ladakh: A Photo Travelogue, with pictures and text by Sohini Sen, when I first came across it as I browsed the travel books on amazon.in. Finally a travelogue that would let my imagination rest! But then, after I ordered the book, waited impatiently for the email that announced it was out for delivery, answered the door, signed for my parcel, tore open the wrappings and settled down to read it, I found that I loved it for several other reasons, too.
First, the sheer quality of the book stunned me. I can’t say what I was expecting, but it was certainly not this solid book of glossy paper, just as good to touch as the Asterix and Tintin comic books I adore.
Next, I was swept away by the pictures. I had wondered, when I ordered the book, how small the pictures would be. I knew by looking at the cover image, which is a collage of the pages inside, that this wouldn’t be the standard photo book of one large image on a page, faced with an extended caption on the next page. No, this book looked exactly like those Asterix and Tintin comic books I adore, only with photographs, not drawings.
But small photos of Ladakh, a land of grand, sweeping landscapes and spectacular structures? That wouldn’t make sense. So it was a delight to see that the images were used well — big when they needed to be big, and small when details were required.
Most of all, I loved reading the book. It had everything I wanted in a travelogue — descriptions, explanations, humour and the author’s point of view. The photographs take you through Ladakh, and the conversation between the travellers, in speech bubbles, lets you experience the places they visit exactly the way they did.
Over five chapters, covering Leh, Phyang, Nubra Valley, Pangong Tso and Tso Moriri, you travel right alongside Sen and her companion as they acclimatise to the height, check out curio shops with puppets featuring the face of a Hindu God on one side and a Tibetan God on the other, attend the annual festival organised by the Phyang Monastery (where Sen shoots photos not only of the carefully choreographed dance by the monks, but also a very small tourist trying to out-dance the monks), freeze at Moriri Lake, take a camel safari, and come across a posing marmot that clearly wants to be a supermodel
Like the best travelogues, this book provides not just backgrounds and contexts to the journey, but also a lightness that is the only way to bring out the joy of travelling. You must be warned though: Ladakh: A Photo Travelogue contains some jokes so bad that you want to bang your head against the wall — and also laugh your head off. So do please get a grip on your head before your begin reading it. And do please take your time, too. This is a book with lots to savour — fantabulous pictures as well as gripping (and sometimes hilarious) text. Go get it.
I was awakened daily by lively music and chanting from our village’s Buddhist temple at 4 in the morning. From my mattress on the grey tile floor, I rose to turn off the exhaust fan, which squeaked and rattled away in its attempt to exchange hot, stale, indoor air for cooler outdoor air. On days when I forgot to turn it off during the chime of early temple bells, I was reawakened an hour later by smoke funneling into my bedroom from my neighbor burning her garbage just beneath my window.
Some days, I rose early — before the sun began to climb over the dense green mountains in the distance. I slipped my feet into sandals and walked through my dusty front yard, past the potholes and cinderblocks littering our side street. I walked by my neighbors’ thatched bamboo homes lifted up on wooden stilts. I walked by the cement homes of other neighbors, built solidly and surrounded by metal gates. I walked and breathed the coolness of the morning air.
I was never the first one to arrive on the main road. Dozens of women, dressed in sins (traditional Lao skirts) lined the road, holding woven baskets of sticky rice and other food to distribute to the singlefile row of barefoot Buddhist monks who approached through the mist from our city’s many temples.
By the time I began wandering home on those early mornings, my village was awake and bustling. Children were playing games making trucks out of bricks and driving them along little pathways, chickens wandered aimlessly, and the rusty gates of corner stores were being creaked open.
It’s difficult to describe the beautiful sense of home and welcome that this city, much more like a sprawled-out village, offered. The people were quiet and welcoming, quick to offer smiles. Outside, most of the little shops along the road, plastic chairs, and short wooden stools gathered passers-by to stop and sit and chat throughout the day. This warmth, slow pace of life, and strong sense of community was a refreshing change from the busyness and personal distance that was too often a part of my life in America.
Luang Prabang, in particular, has a rich and wonderfully maintained culture. The entire city was claimed a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1995, to try to preserve the culture of the city for future generations. Many tourists, though, in sticking to the well-worn trails of backpackers before them, miss out on true village life, neighbourly hospitality, and the soft-spoken, genuine kindness of the Lao people. It was through living and learning among my neighbors that I began to understand how dear this place and these people really are.
There is a morning market and a night market every day, which is set up and taken down by each seller. The city’s night market is a massive transformation of about seven blocks of Luang Prabang’s main road into an elaborate market around five pm every evening. Blue and red tents cover each vendor and their wares. For hours, friends and family can wander together through the narrow paths and shop for shoes, pants, shirts, hand-stitched purses and bags, beautiful paintings, lamps, carvings, and a plethora of other trinkets and daily essentials. The market, though now a major tourist attraction, has been a part of the city’s routine since long before European backpackers started flocking to Luang Prabang.
After spending some time shopping, people often stop over to the night market’s food stretch of roads to enjoy a dinner of spicy noodle soup, grilled meats and fish, fresh spring rolls, or sticky rice and jao (a paste made of crushed chili peppers). Alongside these main meals, many other snacks are available, like sweet, grilled coconut rice balls, fried banana chips, and sour mango dipped in MSG, sugar, and chili pepper flakes.
Luang Prabang has a beautiful variety of foods and activities for people to enjoy. Because of the French colonisation of Laos, it is easy to find delicious French breads, pastries, and desserts along with the more traditional Lao cuisine. And the lush, humid, yet mountainous landscapes make ideal conditions for growing excellent coffee — which is locally harvested and roasted, then sold in great little cafes around town.
Trekking companies line the main road with offers of elephant rides through the Mekong River, motorcycling around impossibly green rice fields, visiting distant villages for week-long homestays, and adventures walking through the beautiful, undeveloped northern mountains of Laos. Near Luang Prabang — only a 30 km tuktuk ride away — is a natural series of stunning waterfalls and pools called Kuang-Si Waterfall. A favorite destination for locals and tourists alike, Kuang-Si waterfall begins with a massive cascade into a large, turquoise-blue pool. Each successive pool somehow seems more beautiful than the last. One pool near the end of the series is always filled with rowdy adventure-seekers and spectators. A long rope hangs from a tree nearby for those who want to brave the swing and drop into the cool blue water. And there is a continual line of people waiting to stand atop the smooth, slick rock above this waterfall and leap over the edge into the water below.
There are also a number of cultural festivals during the year in Laos. The exact dates change, because they are based on the Lao Buddhist calendar. A few in particular stick out in my memory.
In the spring, usually in April, is Pii Mai, Laos’ New Year. Luang Prabang, even more than the other cities of Laos, is known for its wild celebrations of this festival. It occurs before rainy season starts, and is a time for ceremonial cleansings. Around the city is something akin to an enormous water fight. At any moment during the three to seven days of celebration, if you are outside your home, you are likely to get doused with water. People on the side of the road spray you with squirt guns and hoses, and people driving along in trucks with their whole truck bed filled with water will scoop it onto anyone nearby. It is an exciting time! And, it’s a time to always keep phones and electronics in secure plastic bags, of course. In the fall, there are two interesting festivals. One is a city-wide boat race. Each village builds a boat and puts together a team to row in a race against all the other villages’ teams. Spectators line up along the Nam Khan River and watch as boats race all day, two at a time, until one team wins the final round. The other is a beautiful ceremony marking the end of both monsoon season and the Buddhist monks’ threemonth seclusion. It is celebrated with lights all around the city. Temple courtyards are decorated with lights. Thousands of small banana-leaf boats filled with candles and incense are released into the Nam Khan and Mekong rivers. Hundreds of large “floating lanterns” are lit and released into the sky, creating a stunning effect
The culture, food, traditions and people of Laos quickly became a part of my life and heart. A nation very different from my own taught me so much. The Lao people; warm, kind, and welcoming, taught me about family, friendship, and love. Luang Prabang stays very near to my heart, and is to this day never far from my thoughts.
There is something intoxicating about its aroma, radical about its ingredients, eclectic about its presentation and something tangy about its flavor. But what makes Indian food so appealing is its careful use of spices in the way flavors rub up against each other. And although Indian cuisine tends to mix ingredients, the flavours don’t overlap.
How many times have you tasted authentic Indian cuisine from one part of India that does not have a unique flavor? The answer: not too often.
Spices are uniquely important because in any single dish, each one brings a unique flavor. These spices that are used in Indian recipes are uniquely placed to shape the flavoursharing pattern with rest of the ingredients. The takeaway is that they help form the pillars of what tastes so good to so many people and is cherished globally.
Indian cuisine has always conjured up an image of exotic flavours in our minds. A dazzling array of fresh vegetables and fruits with the right mix of spices makes for mouth-watering dishes. Indian food is different from what is offered in the rest of the world not only in taste, but also in cooking methods. It reflects a perfect blend of various cultures and ages. Just like Indian culture, food in India has also been influenced by various civilisations, which have contributed their share in its overall development and the present form.
We have taken on the heavy challenge of listing down the few good specialty restaurants that represent the true cultural spirit of India and make it a celebration for all senses.
JAMAVAR, The Leela Palace
Deriving its name from the 16th century fine art of embroidery of Kashmir shawls, Jamavar, the signature fine-dining Indian restaurant across The Leela Palace Bangalore, The Leela Goa, The Leela Palace New Delhi, and The Leela Mumbai, is known for its authentic tastes of India in an evocative setting. A luxurious restaurant with exemplary service, to give you the perfect finedining experience. A combination of north and south Indian cuisine, the intensely flavourful food has the freshest ingredients and the most exceptional spices that add to its richness.
The restaurant’s décor is a throwback to the times of royalty and the crystal chandeliers overhead cast a subdued glow to lend a traditional touch. The fine-dining innovations in the menu of this luxury restaurant include options such as Palak-e-Husn, Salmon ali shaan, Lobster Neeruli, Ennai kathrika and Tandoori Nalli. Savour the most authentic Indian culinary experiences in the best of environments. Definitely a royal treat, this!
VARQ, The Taj Mahal Hote
Varq is a harmonious blend of traditional and contemporary sophistication. Visually spectacular in every way. Here one can reinvent Indian food with unusual creations and pairings. The menu is a rich accumulation of Indian recipes evolved to the next level. Varq retains the Indian traditional way of cooking while using exotic ingredients such as sea bass, sand crab, black cod, morels and Iranian berries. The dessert station is a visual treat that teases diners throughout their meals. Vertical jalebis with three different flavours, green apple kheer or chocolate-coated Indian ice cream with baileys rabdi provide the finale to a grand meal. Varq offers separate dessert and tea menus or thoughtful pairings of both with teas that have been handpicked and blended exclusively for the restaurant.
The presentations of exquisite culinary inventions are served amongst work by celebrated artist Anjolie Ela Menon. This work has been carefully restored and sits comfortably in its new space. In addition, modern artworks compliment the restaurant in the form of oil paintings, carvings, antiques and modern sculptures.
BUKHARA, ITC Maurya
The romance of the rugged North-west Frontier comes alive at this authentic, award-winning restaurant, making it a landmark dining destination in New Delhi. A key feature on the itinerary of practically every visitor to New Delhi, Bukhara recreates the charm of the traditional clay oven or tandoor with its delicious menu of succulent tandoor-cooked kebabs, vegetables and breads. Once a rustic cuisine, it was enjoyed in the harsh rugged terrain of the North-West Frontier, bringing comfort and succour to diners, with its warm, robust flavours. The world-renowned Dal Bukhara, a combination of whole black lentils (urad dal), tomatoes, ginger and garlic, is cooked and simmered over slow coal fires of the tandoor for 18 hours at a stretch. Another unique feature of the cuisine is the use of prime cuts of meat, marinated with the choicest of spices and skilfully cooked on high heat, while retaining their tender moistness. A beacon of culinary excellence across the globe and the undisputed pride of India, Bukhara has won innumerable accolades over the years, making it the only globally recognised Indian restaurant and the preferred dining destination of gourmets, presidents and heads of state for over 35 years.
DUM PUKHT, ITC Maurya
Celebrated as one of the world’s “best classic restaurants”, Dum Pukht recreates in exquisite detail a setting that befits its magnificent origins. The authentic flavours from the royal kitchens of the Awadhi nawabs transport you to an era when food was not just a meal, but an elaborate feast. Dum Pukht serves not just a cuisine, but an experience that goes beyond the mere satisfaction of appetite, to the realm of sensuality and history: an evocative presentation of aromas, flavours and textures that pays tribute to an appreciation of the fine aspects of life to become a grand experience. Having the distinction of being Asia’s first recipient of the Golden Fork Award, Dum Pukht brings to you the grand cuisine of India in an ambience that is truly regal.