Author and scriptwriter Advaita Kala tell us what it takes to keep her creative juice flowing

Her debut novel Almost Single may have won her rave reviews and got her a big fan base, but that didn’t make Advaita Kala sit back and take it easy. In fact, she decided to take up all the challenges that come with fame and popularity.

Who, after all, would expect a writer who wrote the script for the award-winning movie Kahaani to get into television? But when it’s a maverick that you are talking about, expect the unexpected. For Kala who has lived in three countries and six cities, it’s always about something new. “I like to constantly challenge myself. Where’s the fun in repeating what you have just done?” she retorts. Thus the decision to turn to television. “Of course my agent told me I had lost it, especially since I was bound to get a lot of scriptwriting offers after Kahaani. But I wanted to write across genres and so TV it was,” she says, matterof- factly.

What followed were the first ten episodes of Airlines - Har Udaan Ek Toofan on Star. The journey was an exhausting one, but it taught her a lot of things. “For once, I must confess I had a narrow view of women in TV serials, but since I was writing a script for TV, I ended up watching quite a few. It was an eye-opening experience for me,” says Kala, adding how it might looks strange when these women in the soaps sleep with their makeup on, and move around all dolled up. But in reality, several of them are strong women who have a mind of their own. “And I loved seeing that. My respect for television actors has grown tremendously,” she says.

The bigger challenge, of course, is to write for television audience, which is a pampered lot. Unlike watching a movie, where most people will sit through it because they have spent a certain amount of money, in television one has to find ways to keep them hooked. Kala tried hard: “I did some serious research. It was one year of hard work but I must say I enjoyed it thoroughly. One of the big things I learnt, for instance, was flying is a very passion-driven industry.” Now that Kala has tasted the fun of writing for different media, it’s her first love, books, which she plans to return to. Kala’s Almost Single took the literary world by surprise — not only did it get published in India but also the US and France.

Kala wasn’t expecting this either. Having studied in Mumbai, Dehradoon and in Delhi, it was her four years of studying liberal arts at Berry College, Georgia, USA, which changed her world. “I can easily say that was the most liberating time of my life. I have always been a free spirit, so being in the US really helped me engage with the world differently.” From working at restaurants to working as a librarian, she did it all to fund her studies. So finally when she came back to India, her parents thought a job in the hospitality sector would be best suited to their girl. So off she went to the City of Joy, Kolkata, to study at the Oberoi School of Hotel Management. The city took her by surprise. “Kolkata has this underlying aggression. Also the smell of fish, the noises, the poverty, the food — everything hits your senses. It was a brilliant experience,” she shares. And it’s this experience, the little nuances about the city that one notices in Kahaani.

And when the maverick in her told her six months in Kolkata were enough, Kala moved to Dubai to work in a hotel. A few months there and she decided to move to Delhi as her parents were moving base from Mumbai. It is then when she decided to work on a book. “ Almost Single was more about my experiences. Life in India for a single woman isn’t easy. I guess I was just trying to make sense of things and people around me,” she says, adding how she had no idea how her experiences would resonate with so many of her readers as well.

She sent a copy of her manuscript to Penguin — who rejected it — and one to Harper Collins. It was a blind submission, like they call it. The next morning she got a call from the publishers. And the rest, like they say, is history. Although the book was a success, Kala continued to work in the hospitality industry and took up a communications job at a five-star hotel. “Well I liked the job, I needed the money and so I took it up. I am pretty spontaneous”, she says.

Despite a demanding job, Kala managed to keep her passion for writing alive and kicking. So, when a little while later, the challenge of writing a movie script in the form of Anjaana Anjaani came up, Kala was ready for the adventure. “It was a thrilling experience and I loved working on it with Siddharth Anand. Ranbir Kapoor joined in. I always say he is my first hero,” she giggles. The movie did a business of just Rs 500 million but it had its share of admirers. Kala defends it and says, “The movie was special for me and as far as success is concerned, I am not used to a lot of it so when a high comes, it’s a pleasant surprise. Otherwise, I manage pretty well with regular life.”

So a regular life it was after one movie script. Until one day, Sujoy Ghosh came to Kala with the idea of Kahaani, and she was ready for it. “Mystery-thriller is a genre I have always enjoyed reading, so I loved the idea of a script around the theme. The fact that I had myself experienced Kolkata as an outsider was something that helped me a lot.” she shares. What also helped was a little something she had read about former Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and how she was initially referred to as gungi gudiya (dumb doll) by a few Congress doyens after Nehru’s death. “Yet, it was this gungi gudiya who turned everything around. So in a very abstract sense I took that essence to create Vidya Bagchi’s character.”

And did the success of the movie change her life around? “Well to be frank, I went off to Rangoon for a job within three months after the movie released. It was a lovely job and I loved that place. In fact, I could still go and live there forever”, she chuckles. A painful wisdom tooth brought her back to India and then her parents just asked her to stay put. Although she has lived in Delhi for nearly two years now, getting a sense of movement is very important to Kala. So she treats herself to at least one holiday month. “I like seeing new places. For me, it’s being out and meeting people and interacting with them at different levels that matters the most. We live in the times of social networking yes, but it’s something else to have a face-to-face conversation”, she says.

Apart from travelling, she is working a new book. “Too early to say much, but yes, I need to have a book out soon. It’s been rather long wait”.

We are waiting!

Maharashtra government’s decision to screen Marathi movies in multiplexes during peak hours may have been shot down by most, but it does raise a crucial point – how can regional cinema ever compete with big-budget, high-decibel publicity campaigns by Bollywood and English movies? Shouldn’t such movies be encouraged? Or should regional cinema be allowed to battle it out on its own?

Bela Negi // Regional cinema has been ignored for a long time in India. That has affected the quality of regional films over the years. It isn’t the case, however, in south India and West Bengal, where Bollywood is not as big as regional cinema. And you can see the difference – these regions have a large number of films of high quality.

I’ve been on the National Awards Jury twice, and I was amazed to see so many great regional movies. The sad bit is that a lot of these films just move around in festivals or at special shows. They find it hard to get a place in a common space where an average man can have access to them.

For this, special concessions and slotted times at cinema halls and multiplexes is not such a bad thing. In Maharashtra, because of the proximity to Bollywood, Marathi movies tend to suffer more. Regional films come from such a variety of backgrounds with a variety of different flavours. For instance, a Malayalam film will have a different flavour from a Marathi or a Haryanvi movie. Regional cinema conveys the expression of people there. There aren’t too many Haryanvi films being made but if there was some sort of slot at cinema halls, I’m sure directors would be encouraged. Similarly, in Uttarakhand, the movie industry is practically non-existent.

The publicity budgets for these smaller movies can never match those of Bollywood or Hollywood blockbusters. It need not be like this, but it is the reality. If these regional movies are encouraged by state governments, I feel it will not only give rise to a new kind of cinema, it will also encourage better movie making all over India. When I was making my first film Daayen ya Baayen, I would rather have made it in Kumaoni, the language of Kumaon, where the story plays out. That is because the milieu was so authentic but I chose to make it in Hindi. It was a decision I had to take in terms of the reach of the film. Otherwise, it would have remained a small film, a video film, sort of. Why should a person who is from Maharashtra and thinks in Marathi have to make a Hindi film? We should be able to make movies in our own authentic voice.

There is also a strong case for preserving these regional cultures and languages. Fortunately for me, in Uttarakhand, Hindi is also widely spoken and so it was not that much of an adjustment. But there are Indian states such as those in south India and the Northeast regions where little or no Hindi is spoken. South India is another case in point. The sensibility of every region is different. When we don’t encourage regional voices, it all sort of becomes more universal, more homogenised, a trend that is taking over not just art but lifestyles as well. I can specifically talk about Uttarakhand, where there is no government support for regional films. The focus of the government there is more on how to get movies to come and shoot there. That isn’t a bad thing, but more than that, it is important to recognise the film industry. After all, films have become such a strong medium of expression and are an extremely accessible one as well. If we look at cinema not just as a commercial venture but also as a medium of expression, there is a huge possibility.

Why only Marathi movies in Maharashtra, I say other language movies should be promoted as well. I don’t know how the economics of that would play out, however. But then films today aren’t just about money either. It would be my wish to be able to see films from all over India at some kind of slot reserved for them.

aBhijit Bhor // The recent move by the Maharashtra government to enforce compulsory screening of Marathi films in prime time in mall-wala theatres and the consequent flop after the flip due to the hue and cry that some people raised, Madam De being one of them, raised conflicting emotions in many Maharashtrians. We people love our culture but love fairness and common sense more. Most importantly, we love a free download even more.

But seriously, and in all fairness, this is unfair. The theatre owner has not invested in his cinema hall and multiplex for charity. And in a free market it would be unfair to ensure that he incurs a loss just because a particular government feels it has to show that its heart bleeds for the culture of the land. Not that it makes them send their children to Marathi schools — the Doon-er, the better is the slogan here. Common sense should tell that forcing a non- Marathi speaking and understanding person to watch even good cinema in Marathi is unfair. Maybe you could, maybe do it for free, but if you expect him to pay for it, you got another thought coming. A film buff will take the trouble to go see a film he wants to but you can’t force someone to see a film he is not interested in — especially at multiplex prices.

Plus, there are just not enough Marathis around in Mumbai (at least) concentrated around the malls and multiplexes to make it a viable proposition. Alas, they have sold out long ago and have migrated to Vasai, Virar et al, which even today have many single-screen projections and a sizeable number of Marathis to run good Marathi films at a profit. Which again brings in the unfair aspect to the fore — being forced to sell a product for which there are no buyers. But having said the above, I would like to categorically state that good art cannot shine without a good patron and a proper platform. Maybe not in this form, but the Marathi film, or any regional film industry for that matter, should be nurtured or it may suffer more damage.

In rural Maharashtra, Marathi films are still holding out but how long before the young and growing start having other priorities in terms of movie choices is anyone’s guess. Here, the choice is primarily between Hindi and Marathi films since only the famous English films and the smutty types do well here. There is a better-than-half chance that Marathi may win given the fact that they connect better with the Marathi tableau – at present, at least. In the cities of malls (bless them for the pain I have to go through when my wife shops there!) and multiplexes, where the movies shown have double the production costs, coupled with the youth’s obsession with glamour, suffice it to say the budgetary binds of regional movies can never reach those heights. I should know as an actor. In Marathi movies, we get paid much less (half at times) than what Hindi films and serials pay us. By the way, kudos to Ritish Deshmukh for the Rs eight-crore Lay Bhari and the multi-fold revenues it generated. The average production cost of a regular Marathi movie, however, is about Rs 80 lakh.

And it’s not like the government doesn’t help. For decades, state government have given out benefits to the Marathi film industry. But what should ideally happen is that the love and loyalty for Marathi movies — or any regional movie industry for that matter — should grow on its own.

Modi's diplomacy focus is at the right place - in the neighbourhood

IndIa’s foreIgn policy priorities under Prime Minister Narendra Modi are at the right place. They are where it should have been all along — in its neighbourhood. The ties are dictated by economic benefits, and rightly so.

In the past ten months, Modi has changed the way India looks at its neighbours, and how the neighbours perceive India. Being the largest and the most affluent of the South Asian nations and its extended neighbourhood, India, under Modi, has offered to carry the responsibility of taking along others to prosperity. That has generated hope. His inclusive approach helped him give a call to India’s scientific community to prepare a SAARC (South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation) satellite, displaying eagerness to share India’s superiority in space technologies with the neighbours for the benign purposes of education and economic progress. He has also virtually declared that the neighbouring nations would have the first right to benefit from India’s economic prosperity and that his priority would be to share the riches by creating opportunities for the smaller SAARC nations.

Amid China’s economic slowdown, India has raised its own bar by aiming high for a double digit growth in the days to come, allowing for other South Asian nations to draw some trade benefits out of the affluence of their larger neighbour. Finance Minister Arun Jaitley has already predicted a nine to ten per cent consistent growth in the coming days, so as to help meet the country’s multifarious development challenges. This economic growth and development in India are expected to rub-off on its neighbours such as Bhutan, Nepal, Sri Lanka and the Maldives. Bilateral visits and reciprocation from and to most of the neighbouring countries in the first ten months of the Modi government has had the effect of India easing back into the leadership role in the region. The previous ten years had seen difficulties in this regard. Most of India’s neighbours were miffed with New Delhi for not being magnanimous enough.

Whoever advised Modi — his National Security Adviser Ajit K Doval is being credited for it — in this regard or it could have been his own idea, the Prime Minister displayed his astuteness in diplomacy by inviting the South Asian leaders, including Pakistan’s Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif, to his swearing-in ceremony.

Modi’s stature increased the moment most national leaders from SAARC and the extended neighbourhood arrived in Delhi to greet the new Indian prime minister. The bilateral, handled deftly, on the first day in office only added to Modi’s aura as an emerging global leader. That has been on ample display in these months, as Modi is comfortable in the company of global leaders, including American President Barack Obama, at bilateral and at multilateral levels such as the United Nations, G-20 or the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN). At the Thimpu SAARC Summit, Modi had reminded the leaders that the idea of SAARC invited cynicism and scepticism as reactions. He showed how this can be changed for the better. Amid efforts by some nations within the SAARC to scuttle a larger cooperation agreement towards economic integration of the region, India handled the situation with tact to ensure an energy cooperation agreement as an outcome.

Modi also made a strong pitch for open borders and collective economic responsibility among SAARC nations. He also raised valid questions about how much the member states had done in SAARC to turn natural wealth into shared prosperity — or borders into bridgeheads, for that matter. He also displayed leadership when he declared that India would anyway forge ahead with better economic ties with friendly nations in the regional grouping, whether others would like to come on board or not. India under Modi has given five South Asian nations duty-free access to over 99 per cent of their goods. As the biggest nation in the South Asian region, India is now ready to do its part.

Modi also indicated the South Asian region is his priority when he chose Bhutan for his first official visit abroad. Since then, his visits to Nepal, Sri Lanka and Myanmar, either for bilateral or multilateral meets, have evinced keen interest in those nations for larger, friendly ties with India. These visits have also helped in deflecting the Chinese impact on these nations in India’s neighbourhood, increasing New Delhi’s influence in those nations, if not reducing China’s. For reasons rooted in cultural similarities and history, India’s neighbours would be more than happy to reignite their strong ties with New Delhi.

Borrowing from what Modi said in a different context: If the neighbouring nations take one step towards India, India needs to take two steps towards these nations. The only hurdle seems to be Pakistan, with which India has a blow-hot-blow-cold relationship. The days to come should make the Pakistani leadership realise the benefits that may accrue for their citizenry if there are better ties with India. It is in Pakistan’s interest to ensure terror groups do not gain an upper hand and lead Islamabad down the path of destruction, as is being witnessed in West Asia.

Terrorism and the support it gets within Pakistan, and to a larger extent Kashmir, seem to be the two major sticking points in the India-Pakistan bilateral narrative. If terrorism is addressed by Pakistan, then it will only lead to the Kashmir question being discussed between the neighbours and a possible solution to the satisfaction of all. Modi, as the strongest Indian prime minister in three decades, has the mandate to ensure peace with Pakistan. India aspires to get its rightful place as a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council. For that, friendly and benign relations with its neighbours are a sure shot way to attain greater status among the comity of nations. India under Modi is emerging as the undisputed leader, if not of Asia, at least of South Asia.

SIP Academy India endeavours to make a difference to children’s lives not only through its programmes but its unique CSR initiatives as well

Children are the future. If you invest or empower them, you are working towards a better tomorrow. This enrichment and empowerment of kids with essential life skills is what forms the philosophy of SIP (Sociable Intellectual Progressive) Academy India’s core business and social initiatives. Started in August 2003 with a vision to significantly impact children’s holistic growth, SIP Academy India Pvt Ltd is an ISO 9001:2008 certified organisation and successfully runs different world-class programmes through their partnership with various international organisations. Designed for children between the ages of four to fifteen, the company’s various programmes are aimed at improving the child’s thinking, learning, creative and communication skills.

A firm believer in the philosophy of Nelson Mandela that “Education is the most powerful weapon through which we can change the world”, Dinesh Victor, the MD of SIP Academy India says, “At SIP India, we understand that each kid is unique with potential to be a winner.” He adds how SIP’s belief has always been to develop programmes ‘Keeping the Child in Mind’. Hence, the company follows the fun learning methodology, which ensures the objective of making the child achieve excellence not only in academics but in other walks of life as well.

The company’s flagship programme — SIP Abacus and Brain Gym — is said to help in developing concentration, confidence and visual memory, while the Global Art programme focuses on enhancing creativity and confidence. AMAL is aimed at accelerated learning and improved social skills, while Mikids looks at better English communication. Today, SIP Academy India has benefited about 3.5 lakh children in over 700 Learning Centres across 19 states and union territories.

According to Victor, “By enriching and empowering young children with essential life skills, even though we cannot build the future for our children, we will be able to ensure we can build our children for the future.” SIP was recently awarded for its outstanding services and contribution to the education sector and received the “Best Coaching Institute in Skill Development for Children in India” at the Fifth Asia Education Summit 2015, on 25th March 2015, at New Delhi. And while the company has achieved a lot of success in terms of enabling and empowering students, giving back to the society has always been a motto since the beginning of its operations.

In 2004, the company tied-up with an NGO Madhuram Narayanan Centre for Exceptional Children, which provides early intervention services for children (six years or below) with mental retardation, development delays and other associated disabilities. Using its Brain Gym programme, the company trained a set of teachers at the Centre, to help train 140 special children in a couple of special exercises, which help in increasing their attention span.

Later the company also worked with an NGO Tulir Centre for the Prevention and Healing of Child Sexual Abuse (CPHCSA) for running awareness programmes for its employees, students and their parents. Over the years, the company has worked with different issues such as organ donation (in tie-up with Mohan Foundation), swine-flu awareness campaigns and tsunami relief work.

The big challenge, however, came in the form of the falling sex ratio as indicated in the Year 2011 Census. It brought about a change in the company’s CSR goal. “It shook us into action. We were extremely concerned since this will have serious ramifications for our society in the years ahead,” says Victor. Keeping this in mind, SIP Academy India adopted an initiative on “Respect the Girl Child” as their core corporate social responsibility (CSR) for the next five years. The company tried to approach the issue in two ways: first, direct education to needy students; second, addressing the social factor — the reason a girl is not respected in Indian society.

“Today, while we see a lot of development both economically, financially and a better gender equality, there are many areas in the Indian society where a girl is still discriminated against. She is considered to be a burden or an expense, while the boy is perceived as an investment or an income-generating asset,” explains Victor. According to him, this is the area where they want to bring about the change through their CSR goal.

Taking this forward, the company initiated a campaign: a pledge for the parents of a boy child — “I will not take dowry”. The drive for this initiative was based by the reality that parents of a girl child have to give money and gifts as dowry due to social pressures. “In the prevalent socioeconomic realities, most parents find their hands tied to get substantial money for dowry. In a majority of cases they end up carrying a lifelong burden of loans,” he says. To create social consciousness, SIP Academy introduced a “pledge card” that parents can sign on and vow not to receive or demand dowry for their son’s marriage.

The success of the first initiative encouraged the company to start another one in 2013. The new campaign was for the parents of girl child; a pledge card saying “I pledge to support and respect my daughter in her choices relating to higher education and career.” According to Victor, many SIPians and its franchisee partners took the vow and signed the pledge card. Within the organisation, SIP Academy India focused its approach towards developing numerous confident and enterprising women in various roles such as course instructors, LCLs, master trainers, area heads, state heads and employees. The idea was to not only transform them, but to make them the “change agents” to transform society.

In Chennai, SIP Academy India is also supporting the education of 58 girl children to ensure they complete their studies at Sri Ramakrishna Mission Sarada Vidyalaya Girls’ Higher Secondary school. While most companies focus on providing scholarships to the brightest students, SIP Academy India chose to concentrate on the academically poor students. “We found that not only do these girls come from poor backgrounds, but due to their poor grades, they are at a higher risk for dropping out. If we could sponsor their studies, there was a less risk of them dropping out due to parental and economic pressure,” says Victor. While SIP might not have achieved an immediate success in improving the grades of these students, what holds the fort is the drastic change in the percentage of girls not dropping out, which spells success for this pilot initiative.

According to Meenakshi, headmistress of Sarada Vidyalaya, the company also provides refreshments to these children during special classes conducted after school hours, since these students don’t have a congenial atmosphere to study at home. The students are happy to receive the evening refreshments after eight hours of school, which energises them to study further.

One of the success stories of this initiative, Banupriya, the school topper in 12 standard (scoring 1169 marks out of 1200), is now pursuing BCom and CA in one of the most reputed colleges of Chennai. Her aim is to seek good employment and raise her family status by supporting them. According to Victor, even though these are small initiatives and the company has not gone all out in expansion mode, they know the model is good. “We are happy with the lives we have impacted and the girls are more motivated to come to school,” he says.

In the future, SIP Academy India is planning to have more awareness campaigns and also has an ambitious plan of extending the Sarada Vidyalaya pilot success to other parts of the country. As Victor sums it up, “One idea, one teacher and one child can change the world. Our journey will continue to impact a million minds.”

In addition to explicitly chronicling the experiences of women and children in times of armed conflict, The Seasons of Trouble is a testimony to what —and who — is left out of most reportage on war

Rohini Mohan’s new book, The Seasons of Trouble: Life amid the Ruins of Sri Lanka’s Civil War, is a war story with a difference. For one, you won’t find politicians and starred generals here; just everyday people, especially women and children. In fact, two of the three main characters — Mugil and Indra — are women, and all of them are far removed from the corridors of power, and face struggles specific to the intersections of their class, gender, and ethnic identities. Also, Mohan’s searing account of the three lives caught up in the devastation is based on five years of rigorous reportage, and looks beyond the heroism of wartime survival to reveal the creeping violence of the everyday.

In that, it is a winner. Discriminatory policies against the Tamil, representing 30 per cent of the population, began in the 1950s, accelerated in the 1970s, and culminated with the burning of the Jaffna Tamil library in 1981, and riots in July 1983. When the Sinhalese-dominated Sri Lankan Army “eliminated” the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) by killing its annan Prabakaran in 2009, most people hoped that the small, war-ravaged island nation in the Indian Ocean would rebuild and grow. Instead, the next five years saw the country’s prospects diminished by a government that sought to consolidate its power and limit the rights of its citizens. By recounting the Sri Lankan tragedy through the lives of three real characters within two parallel worlds, Mohan produces a fantastic work of non-fiction presented in a simple yet absorbing fictional style. Gripping, exhilarating, haunting — these words barely scratch the surface of this account of their lives. Though it is non-fiction, The Seasons of Trouble reads like a novel with history of the Sri Lankan civil war interspersed amid the peoples’ stories.

The book begins with the abduction of Sarvanatha Pereira (Sarva in short), a young Tamil, by the Sri Lankan government on suspicions of terrorism. His ability to speak Sinhalese and a surname that enables him to pass for a Sri Lankan, only leads to trouble, since he is suspected to be a spy. This happens in the closing months of 2008, when the Tamil dream of Eelam, an independent homeland in Sri Lanka’s north and east, is crumbling. The government’s army is 200,000-strong, equipped with horrific firepower, and has thrown away any niceties. Tiger ranks are filled with 13-year-old conscripts who try to run away. How could a woman sleep soundly when her son was still in prison? Sarva’s mother, a middle-aged Indra, is the second lead character in the book, whose story traces the bewildering search for her “disappeared” son. Indra, a young mother at the time, was the first to witness the horrible anti-Tamil violence of 1983, which left 3,000 dead and hundreds fleeing the country.

Indra badgers jeering police and officials, most of them from the Sinhala Buddhist majority, until she secures his release, the same way she got Sarva out of the Tiger ranks in Jaffna several years ago. The third character, Mugil, is the rare story of a female combatant attempting to reintegrate into postconflict society. Her story opens in September 2008 with her witnessing the rape/ murder of five teenaged LTTE girls by Lankan soldiers near Kilinochchi, and her furtive escape to her home in Puthukudiyirippu, located in the Vanni, the heart of the Tamil homeland in northern Lanka.

Unlike her husband Divyan and brother Prashant, who surrender to the state, Mugil tries to keep her former identity secret, and teaches herself how to become a mother and a housewife. Despite being a former Tiger, Mugil’s feelings about them are complex and conflicted throughout the book. She tries to shed her Tiger identity and attempts to blend back into civilian society to escape government retribution — a process the government would then use to justify subsequent actions that western commentators saw as direct attacks on civilians.

Sarva has a happy ending so long as he never returns to his homeland; Mugil’s narrative ends with a sinister foreshadowing of further violence in the country, and with the detention of a major character whose ordeal will no doubt be similar to Sarva’s. Of course, there are glimpses of hope. Many of the aid workers helping Sarva and others like him are Sinhalese. Mohan reiterates that there are alternatives, imperfect though they might be. The book reminds us that in every conflict, no side is completely innocent or blameless. Even the victims of Sri Lankan army’s torture are shown to be harbouring irrational animosity and distrust towards Sri Lankan Muslims who speak the same language (Tamil).

Mohan tells us that the LTTE, which had once expelled 72,000 Sri Lankan Muslims from the Northern Province, was no less cruel than the Sri Lankan army, which ultimately defeated it. Poignant descriptions such as these render Mohan’s book such a nuanced account of the struggle. In addition to explicitly chronicling the experiences of women and children in times of armed conflict, The Seasons of Trouble is a testimony to what — and who — is left out of most reportage on war. Mohan subtly reminds us that although winners may be declared, wars are always lost.

A ten-day trip to Bhutan offers a peek into what it takes to make the heart sing

Iam fascinated by the idea of happiness. I have read every article in Opinionator (NY Times), watched several episodes of TED Talks and analysed many a book written on the theme. Happiness is the one thing all of us want in abundance, and yet we understand so little about it. No two definitions of happiness are the same, just like fingerprints. The more I have tried to capture this emotion, the more it slipped from my grasp.

The Bhutanese take happiness to heart. They believe it to be a tangible and measurable concept such as gross domestic product (GDP), and other economic indicators. The fourth Drago King, Jigme Singye Wangchuck, coined the term GNH (gross national happiness) that laid down the path to a more joyful and fulfilling life for the Bhutanese. Thus, the people of Bhutan have rejected the conventional model of fast-paced economic growth for a slower, more holistic approach to life.

By all estimates, they have succeeded in creating a lifestyle more conducive to happiness. This country, popularly known as the Last Shangri-La, was rated the happiest in Asia and eighth-happiest in the world by Business Week — so much for the absence of malls, discos, Bentleys and McDonalds.

A ten-day trip to the Land of Thunder Dragons offered me a peek into their secret:

The silenT Buddha

As soon as we — me and my friends — stepped on Bhutan’s soil, a few things disappeared, namely noise, crowd and garbage. The difference stared us in the face. On one side of the border stood Jaigaon (West Bengal), with its clamour of a thousand people, shops and hotels. On the other side was Phuntsholing (Bhutan) — pristine, spacious and serene.

On our first evening in Bhutan’s capital and biggest city (Thimpu), we went to see the 169-feet tall Buddha statue that stands atop a mountain and bestows blessings, peace and happiness to the region. It instantly reminded me of Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro. The two structures indeed have an uncanny resemblance in placement and principle. The figure is symptomatic of the place and its religious ethos. Buddhism lets you be. Too many religions tell us what to do and that works contrary to what they want to achieve. Buddhism demands little from its followers. It encourages people to find their own answers. I found that line of thought refreshing.

After admiring the sunset from the hilltop, we decided to walk down to the city instead of taking a cab. As we walked and chatter, we looked up to admire the sky with countless stars. This luxury of time and space in the company of close friends made this place so special. I guess that is what travel allows us to do.

leap of Joy

We had gone through an extensive phase of planning and meticulously prepared an itinerary. When we finally reached Bhutan, we abandoned it all. We wanted to get an authentic experience and what better way to do that than to jump into a freezing river with a deadly current (my friend’s idea).

This is how it happened: We left Thimpu at sunrise and after a two-hour drive, reached Punakha. This was the countryside I was so eager to explore. We left our bags in the hotel and headed straight to the Punakha Dzong (Palace of Great Happiness).

The Zong is arguably the most beautiful fortress in all of Bhutan. The structure is surrounded by imposing mountains and two rivers of different colours flow on either side of its walls. The confluence of male river (Pho Chhu) and female river (Mo Chhu) takes place a few meters ahead of the Zong, and it is a sight to behold.

“I want to take a dip,” my friend said despite being a rookie swimmer.

“You have lost your mind,” I replied, looking at the volatile current.

Ten minutes later we decided to jump at the intersection of the two rivers. I was walking tentatively and carefully into the river when I saw him run past me to take the plunge. I threw caution to the winds and jumped right behind him. I literally froze in the chilly water, but there was no end to the smile on my face. One dip turned into half-hour-long antics.

aimless walks

Late in the afternoon, we took a long walk past open farms and wide fields. We may well have been in the Alps. There was greenery as far as we could see, and tall mountains reaching up to the skies. An unexplored trail took us to an isolated patch next to the river. We were occupied with our thoughts and in a mood to reflect. There, I made a promise to myself. From now on, I would focus on all the great things I had going for me as opposed to all that I didn’t.

The Trek ThaT was

“Give me the hardest and most dense mountain with a view to die for. And make it a challenge,” I said and the sherpa took me quite literally.

“Mountain Kitiphu,” he said. What no one mentioned was the serious danger of bears lurking in that area. The mammals feasted on red cherries and mushrooms that were aplenty in the forests during the monsoon season.

In a casual chat during the trek the guide confessed to me that he didn’t sleep thinking about the dangers of the trek. There had been many cases of bear attacks in the recent past, one as recently as yesterday — close to the spot where we were standing. Suddenly, I had enough energy to double my speed.

We had two pets with us, a German shepherd and a Doberman. These two beauties looked after us every inch of the way. They walked ahead of us and then came all the way back to where the slowest person was, to urge him on.

The mountain was so dense that we couldn’t see past the bushes, and the trail so narrow that we could only walk in a single file. The message was clear: this was not human territory, we were trespassers.

We stuck together, egged each other on and gave out loud screams every few minutes to mark our territory.

After four hours of relentless and steep climb we finally reached the top of the mountain. Sitting on a small rock, we shared sandwiches and savoured the picturesque view of the valley. In that moment, all the effort and danger was worth it.

The mysTical BuddhisT prayers

What does one do after escaping bears? Head straight to the Tiger’s Nest, of course. The last leg of the journey took us to Paro and the famed Taktsang Palphug Monastery known as Tiger’s Nest. I can say with authority that any trip to Bhutan is incomplete without this pilgrimage.

Tiger’s Nest is a sacred site and temple complex of unparalleled beauty. The structure has sprung out of the edge of the cliff almost like a wild mushroom, as if on a whim. It defies all rules of architecture, engineering and even gravity. And yet there it has stood firm since 1692.

It is not a glorious story of human victory over nature but, in fact, the synergy between the two forces. The walls of the monastery and the hill are almost joined together as one. It signifies everything that Bhutan stands for.

A two-hour long trek took us right up to the mighty waterfall at the entrance of the monastery. On three sides, towering above our head, were rocky cliffs and the water came gushing down from the summit making a thundering sound.

It was like any other monastery in Bhutan with circular bells and plethora of monks in maroon attire. However, to stand at the end of this edifice was like being at the edge of the world. This place was not part of our world; it existed in a vacuum. A black hole of enlightenment.

Ten days later, I was back to the noise, madness, and deadlines of the city. However, I returned home with a sense of calm. I haven’t discovered a magic formula for happiness just yet, but I came back with some happy memories. I can live with that.

American blues singer Big Bill Morganfiled famously said, “My guitar is my torch, my soul carries the flame. Make no mistake, I’m a true blues man.” He might as well be speaking about Jayanta Dasgupta

Wearing a nondescript shirt over I-sleep-in-them jeans, sporting heavy stubble bordering on a beard, he’s not a showman. But when Jayanta Dasgupta plays the blues, it’s easy to lose yourself in music. As your beer sits there getting warm and people jostle around in the cramped pub, you simply smile that smile reserved for the best music you’ve ever heard. Once the gig is over, Dasgupta is affable enough to talk music with you, share a pint, and your perfect evening just gets better.

Dasgupta’s band, The Saturday Night Blues (The SNB), is one of the only mainstream blues bands in India, and has a prominent place in India’s live music scene. In Kolkata in particular, where the band is based, SNB’s popularity is legendary. Their artist list includes everyone from the Mississippi blues, jazz-y blues from New Orleans or contemporary blues – Buddy Guy, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Albert King, Ray Charles, B B King, Robert Cray, Eric Clapton and so many others.

The band has also played in some of the most popular music venues in India. Dasgupta himself has been performing for the past 30 years and has played in the US, Germany and the UK. The man’s own fan boy moment: when he opened for the legendary Buddy Guy at the Mahindra Blues Festival in Mumbai in 2011, and when he took part in Bangalore’s Indigo and Blues music festival along with another living legend Bobby Whitlock, in 2012. “I remember listening to Bobby’s powerful voice in the song ‘I looked away’ and wondering how the man’s voice sounds as powerful as the sea,” he says with reverence in his voice.

Today Dasgupta is great friends with Whitlock and his wife CoCo Carmel, and says Whitlock doesn’t forget to wish him on his birthday. The two have even collaborated on a song. “He taught me more about singing in the six years that I have known him than I’ve learned in my entire life. Opening for him was a monumental thing for me,” he says.

A far cry from the growing up years, when he had no idea he would be a musician. “I had the most dissonant voice in the family – I couldn’t sing to save my life,” he says with a chuckle. But the exposure to music since his early years made a big impact on him. From growing up in a joint family where an elder cousin sister had some of the best music collection of records and cassettes, to “messing” with his friend’s mother’s guitar and hounding his father for an electric guitar that cost Rs 460 back then, Dasgupta did it all. His entire pocket money would go into getting songs recorded onto cassettes. The epiphany moment, however, came when he was in class nine. “A big shift happened inside me then and I realised I listen to music not as a listener but as a musician. I would lean in to know what was going on in the song, what the songscape was,” he says.

Blues entered his life gradually, however. It happened when he went visiting his uncle in Braunschweig, Germany, while taking a break from college. As he travelled to cities such as Hamburg and Frankfurt, he heard buskers on the streets, in music stores, parks, and it opened up a whole new world of music to him. “I was already playing a little bit in Kolkata by then but I had a definite idea of what I would want to play when I came back.”

He was also a constant fixture at music director Salil Chowdhury’s music studio called Sound on Sound, which produced jingles for ads. “I was one of the losers who played the guitar for all those jingles – from Yak Cigarettes to Nepali Coca-Cola,” he says with a laugh.

Clearly, it wasn’t enough – Dasgupta wanted to delve deeper and thus went to study music at the famous Musicians Institute at Hollywood, California; he is a guitar graduate from the Guitar Institute of Technology there. “It was the turning point in my life. It was like living my dream,” he reminisces, mentioning how he was a roadie at Paul McCartney’s Hollywood Bowl performance in 1993! Dasgupta still gets starry-eyed about seeing live performances of those such as B B King and meeting Chick Corea there. It was there that he learned the subtle nuances of the blues such as alternate tuning, what guitarists do when they play slides and so on.

His parents had initial reservations but later came around, especially his father. “My father had to build a new life in Kolkata after partition and he is a successful businessman, so he had his initial fears about me making a living from being a musician,” he defends. A sudden illness meant Dasgupta also had to shoulder the responsibility of his father’s business of lighting business. “I still take care of the company and I am not repentant – it is just another side of me,” he says.

So did taking care of business also teach him a little bit about marketing himself as a musician? “No, I’m a bad marketing person. But what I’m good at is that I’m a very thorough person. What I know, I know damn well.”

It is this quest for perfection that stood Dasgupta in good stead during testing times. “You just have to give and give, and when you think you can’t anymore, and are tired and hopeless, you will see results and music will start to give you back,” says the 47-yearold, “You need to surrender to music and when it surrenders back to you, it’s the most beautiful feeling.” The rock-bottom feeling also inspired him to play the kind of music that had inspired him to take up music in the first place.

He also gives credit to his band members who he says are some of the most talented musicians. A Fender endorsee and onstage India brand ambassador of the iconic guitar brand, Dasgupta is currently working on a number of new songs along with his wife and band vocalist Arunima Dasgupta. “We will take the first batch of originals of four or five songs to the studio in May-June,” reveals the blues man, adding “I’m lucky enough to be alive and playing the blues. It defines me.”

STILL RECOVERING from March, are you?

Well, guess what? All of us are. Year-end closing, appraisals to worry about, deadlines and targets that loomed closer than ever. Work pressures can bog any of us down. Combine that with life’s other responsibilities and the picture can be overwhelming.

Anytime I get weighed down by pressures of various kinds, I stop and look for inspiration from the simple things around — something that most of us can do if we want to be happy individuals.

A good time and place to start would be now. Why? Well, spring is in the air. Isn’t it a season to remind yourself that green shoots show up no matter how severe the winter has been? And how can you not stop to gaze at gulmohar’s brilliant orange, the bright yellow of amaltas, and the vibrant colours of bougainvillea? The spring’s colours are a reminder to us to slow down and enjoy the beauty of nature.

It’s for the same reason we have renowned economist Lord Meghnad Desai on the cover. The man shares with us the reasons for his optimism about India’s growth story and how he thinks we are on the right track. A growth of 8.5 to 9 per cent, he says, is achievable for India’s economy. The shoots of growth are already showing, aren’t they?

Talking of spring, the Looking Back section is a must-read. For we have a fascinating story about the courage and strength of Kalpana Saroj, a Dalit child bride who went on to become a successful entrepreneur. Rising above the harsh challenges of life when she was exploited as a 12-year-old child bride, Saroj refused to give in. Determined, she fought her circumstances and saw the shoots of hope. Today, she is a successful entrepreneur and a Padma Shree winner.

Go on and look for that sprout of hope and nurture it. This spring, find that spring in your step.

India-born British economist and a life peer in Britain’s House of Lords, Lord Meghnad Desai talks of his latest book, the economics academy, The Gandhi Memorial Trust, his love for movies, and more

“Delighted. Call me tomorrow.”

Not a usual reaction from a Lord and a top economist when you reach out for an interview request, right?

Wrong, if you are talking of Lord Meghnad Desai. A leading economist and a life peer in Britain’s House of Lords, Lord Desai is, in fact, a delight to speak to.

So when we finally manage to speak on a Sunday afternoon, he makes sure he takes time out to speak at ease.

We begin with something that recently got him to India — the Lord Meghnad Desai Academy of Economics. The academy will begin accepting admissions from this April and the first batch will be limited to 30 students. Aditya Birla Group’s Chief Economist Ajit Ranade, IMF-Singapore Regional Training Institute Deputy Director Mangal Goswami, Chief Economist Tushar Poddar of Goldman Sachs, and Executive Editor of Mint Niranjan Rajadhyaksha, are members of the academic board.

Ask him how the idea of the Academy came about and he replies, “Well, I thought an academy would be a great idea. We are looking at a select number of students. To get admission, they have to write a 500-word essay — we choose the best ones.”

But why India? “Well I was born In India and grew up here. I still come back quite a few times in a year. I have a strong emotional connect, so India it was. An ex-student of mine, Tushar Poddar is at the helm, and I am sure we will do a good job.”

Talking of being at the helm, Lord Desai, with his author wife Kishwar Desai, is also the founding member for The Gandhi Memorial Trust. The trust that was started last year saw the duo work hard to raise funds for a statue of Mahatma Gandhi that was unveiled at Parliament Square in London, last month.

The nine-foot bronze statue of the Mahatma was created by renowned sculptor Phillip Jackson and now stands with other greats such as Nelson Mandela, Winston Churchill, and Abraham Lincoln, among others.

So when the Indian Union Finance Minister Arun Jaitley unveiled Gandhi’s statue in the presence of British Prime Minister David Cameron, Gandhi’s grandson Gopalkrishna Gandhi, British Culture Minister Sajid Javid, and actor Amitabh Bachchan, it was a proud moment for Lord Desai and his wife.

“Oh the work kept me amazingly busy. It was a huge responsibility and I am glad it all worked out fine. We’d announced the plan in July but the fund mobilisation started only in September. Yes, it was hectic, but completely worth all the hard work. We got some wonderful donations — some small, some large. And it was lovely to see all the support.”

And exhausting though it was, the 75-year-old is not one to sit back and rest on his laurels. The author of 28 books, more than 200 articles in academic journals and innumerable columns, he is back to work, full steam. Beginning this month, he is going to be busy with his next book, Hubris: Why Economics Failed to Predict the Crisis and How to Avoid the Next One.

Ask him to discuss the book and he simply says, “Oh, it’s not a technical book. It had diagrams but certainly no equations,” he chuckles. He adds how the book will be more of predictionary economics. “I hope to explain why the economic crisis happened. I am talking of an alternate perspective, a longer and dynamic perspective.”

During the last economic slowdown, however, India somehow survived the slump and wasn’t so adversely affected by it all. And if the mood is anything to go by, Lord Desai is positive of the Indian growth story. A biggie, he says, has been the Make in India talk.

“It’s a good slogan. Manufacturing has to increase. The invitation to foreign capital has been a good move. Indians should make in India, and so should foreigners.”

The talk moves to Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s leadership, something that Desai is appreciative of. “He is very good — extremely energetic. I would even say he has added a whole new dimension to India’s international relations. By saying something inclusive like Sab ka saath, sab ka vikas, he has also reiterated the economic decisions about to be made. ”

Although Lord Desai likes to call himself a pessimist, he is happy with India’s growth story. “India is absolutely on track. It has recovered from UPA II and it’s not difficult to imagine a growth percentage of 8.5 to 9 per cent.”

That said, there are things that need attention, he adds. “What is needed most is the right infrastructure. Then, of course, there needs be an emphasis on toilets and housing. A cleaner India, which is more development oriented, is absolutely the need of the hour.”

Often called a “globaliser”, Lord Desai doesn’t miss talking about India and globalisation. “India, like most post-colonial countries, has been a reluctant believer in globalisation,” he says. To add to it, there are parties changing stances. Initially, the Congress talked well of globalisation and now, of course, they go ahead and criticise it. The BJP, on the other hand, was reluctant but finally gave in to FDI. “But the thing to remember is India’s growth lies in being a global economy. In all this, one must add the importance of India’s export story,” he reminds.

Known for being vocal about his opinions, Lord Desai has also voiced his belief in the Indian democracy. “India has affirmed democracy of a high order, time and again. Look at every election — be it at the state level or at the Centre. People think of every election differently. There is a wonderful balance.”

Talking fondly of India as he does, one wonders what made him call the UK his home.

The story goes somewhat like this: Born and brought up in Vadodara, Lord Desai is one of the four siblings; he has fond memories of the town he lived in for ten years. “My father worked with the government, I studied in a primary school and walked five minutes to get to my school. I still remember the lovely roads of the town that was rather small back then.”

When his father got transferred to Mumbai, the Desai family moved base to what was known as Bombay, in 1950. “It had a big-city feel for sure, but Bombay is also this charming place that is so lively,” he reminisces. He also remembers how Mumbai was much less crowded back then, although getting to college was not easy. “We stayed in Versova and my College was in Matunga. But soon I was used to the buses and the local trains. Those were interesting days. I took part in debates, did a few Gujarati plays.”

After his graduation from Ruia College, Desai went on to do his Masters from Bombay University.

However, it was his desire to study further and do his PhD, an aim that took him to the University of Pennsylvania, USA.

He recalls the student days in US with fondness. He shared room with a boy from Andhra. “We cooked all kinds of meals together. It was fun.”

But it was his academic bent of mind that kept him busy with his studies more than anything else. “It was an incredible experience. We had no computers back then, but we had some lovely teachers. It was loads of studies but I loved it.”

A few years later, he moved to the UK and joined the prestigious London School of Economics. And before he knew, the academic culture in the UK had made a big place in his heart and he decided to stay put.

“The quality of students and teacher was seriously good and that is what kept me hooked. I knew if I came back to India I would not be able to work in economics the way I was doing in the UK. It was wonderful being at the LSE,” he says. Desai spent 38 years of his life there — he started the Centre for the Study of Global Governance, and was a founding member at Development Studies Institute (DESTIN). He even led a student’s revolution in the 1960s.

In 1977, he became a naturalised British citizen, but India continued to thrive in his heart — a reason he keeps coming back. In fact, it was in India he met his second wife Kishar Ahluwalia. The couple has a house in Goa, where they spend a considerable amount of their time.

Desai’s love story brings a cheer to his voice that is easy to sense. Interestingly it’s his favourite book that got him to meet Kishwar. He was working on his book Nehru’s Hero Dilip Kumar.

Dilip Kumar has been Lord Desai’s favourite hero and he often connected the actor’s initial roles to Nehru’s idea of a socialist hero. Kishwar was his editor at Roli books. “We met a few times for work and it was lovely chatting with her”, he shares. Love blossomed and the Lord proposed to the Lady over phone from London. “Dilip Kumar and romance, what more could one ask for?” he chuckles.

The most special part about the relationship, says Lord Desai, is the fact that the two are extremely supportive of each other. “I am a lucky man because she said yes, and we got married in 2004. We are partners. We read each other’s books, support each other. It’s an enriching relationship that we share,” he says, the calm in his voice saying it all.

Desai is also a husband who loves to pamper his wife. He often rustles up delicious treats for his lady love. “Well, I love cooking, which makes me the principal cook.”

His favourites include roast lamb, British delicacies, and the Mediterranean cuisine. Of course, it’s his comfort food, pasta, that he loves eating the most.

And to think he finds time to potter around in the kitchen despite a busy schedule. He goes through his bundle of six newspapers every morning, doesn’t miss his walk and is a vociferous reader.

And then there’s cinema — his other love that he has been trying to give more time to. “Oh, I love watching all kinds of movies. I loved Life of Pi. But it’s a shame I haven’t watched a Hindi movie in a long time. Kahaani was the last one I saw and I loved it. Oh hold on, there’s also Chennai Express I saw on a flight and quite enjoyed it.” Next on his list are Vishal Bhardwaj’s Haider and Imtiaz Ali’s Highway.

You can’t watch Hindi movies and not have your favourite actors, can you? “Well, Irrfan Khan is a fabulous actor. I also like Sonakshi Sinha and Deepika Padukone. Of course, Vishal Bhardwaj’s work is something that has been on my wishlist for a while,” he says.

“I am sure I will find the time,” he says. There is optimism in Lord Desai, after all.

CRICKET// Australia outplayed New Zealand by 7 wickets to lift their fifth World Cup. In a fairy tale farewell, the Aussie skipper Michael Clarke hit 74 to register an emphatic win over the Kiwis. He walked into MCG to bat for his country one last time amidst a rousing reception. The MCG witnessed a crowd of over 90,000 spectators when the Kiwis were bowled out for a paltry 183 runs. New Zealand got off to a shocker, after winning the toss and electing to bat first, losing their in-form captain Brendon McCullum for a duck in the very first over. Fast bowlers Mitchell Starc, James Faulkner and Mitchell Johnson shared eight wickets between them to deny the opportunity to score. New Zealand batting crumbled after going into the final as the only unbeaten team in the tournament with eight straight wins. New Zealand showed signs of hope when they removed Aaron Finch for a duck in the second over of Trent Boult. Mitchell Starc was adjudged the Player of the tournament for his 22 wickets at an average of 10.18.