Konachi wadi? (whose wadi?)

Poster for my film

Accidental wrong turns on the streets of Mumbai often lead to surprises. A few very specific turns in Girgaon, the old heart of Mumbai elicit a gasp from even the toughest critics of the city. For, just beyond these turns lies Khotachiwadi; a quaint urban village. A cacophony of curving-winding lanes, colourful Burma-teak houses with verandas, chawls and Art-deco buildings all inhabited by generation upon generation of the same family. This Mumbai-unique village is one of many. These villages are a testimony to the layers of history that this city is steeped in. Each of its unique features a remnant from every era lived through. If only these spaces could speak. 

Konachi wadi? is a film that tries to give a voice to Khotachiwadi. It explores the definitions of what can be defined as a wadi. Is a wadi just a tumble of gallies and buildings or does it have something more to it? The call of a fisherwoman, the couple that fell in love across balconies, the chapel with its neon cross and the house next to it where someone strums a guitar while the beer warms with droplets of condensation and dusk becomes night.

This 35-minute documentary film and supporting research was my Diploma project. This project was funded by the NID-Ford Foundation Scholarship and was completed in September 2010.

Watch this space for more on Khotachiwadi!

Ahmedabad on Uttarayan

All businesses closed

Goats on streets, almost no people

New clothes, jewellery

Everyone was on terraces

Till dusk.

These photos were clicked on Uttarayan, 2009.

Pre-NID photography portfolio

When I had appeared for the NID written test (early 2007), I had one thing going for me. Complete faith in the fact that I was not going to get admission there. I think that was what made me write that test with full abandon and no fear.

I clearly remember the day I checked the short-listed candidates for studio tests. My name was among 30 others. I had not expected that and I walked out of the IT room of my under-grad college (Ramnarian Ruia College at Matunga) in silence. I told noone. I was happy, ofcourse, but worried as well. What was I going to show in the interview? Surely, a portfolio would be expected. All the way home, I fretted in the train. After consolidating my position, these were the photographs that I mounted and presented.

My neighbour Ravin. He is all grown up now!

Bhutta

Giant wheel

A hair-clip vendor on the local train in Mumbai

A common house lizard

Reflection

A street in Pune at 2.00 am

Susie Q. She still lives in the yard of my parents' home

Sasan Gir

I did too

My room in Sinh Sadan, the Forest Dept. guest house

Sometimes there was a dog on the roof

Other times there were two!

There were crocodiles for neighbours. Very smiley ones at that!

A lane behind the crocodile breeding farm looked took us to the river

While another one took us to Gir

The river flowed through the reserve

On which was the Kamleshwar Dam

A small bridge led into the reservoir of the dam. A watch-tower with an excellent view stood further down with our jeep park in front of it.

A Maldhari settlement as viewed from the tower

Meanwhile in the 'Gir Interpretation Centre' notices like these waited for us

Besides these notices there were animals as well, which was the real surprise!

Chital

Nilgai

The resin glue lioness

That never moved an inch although a bus-load of humans was parked nearby

PAISA WASOOL!

To read my experiences at Gir, click here.

Lion conspiracy

November 2009
4.00am

Grrrrowlllllll...Uggh Uggh Uggh

Me: Goobledegloop...gurgle...slobber-slobber...snore...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

GRRRROWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL UGGHA UGGHA UGGHA UGGHA

Me: Silent. Utterly and completely. Extra wide-awake and cowering under my thick blanket on an antique four-poster bed.

M is already awake but much calmer. Being a light sleeper comes in very handy for M. No nasty surprises. No being woken up afraid to death thinking a lion is in your bed! Not much sleep though, ever, if you can hear rats romancing a mile away on a regular basis.

Me: What in the name...WHAT was that?

M: Lions. Early morning territory-marking stroll, I suppose.

Me: It sounded more like a regurgitation of last night's chital.

M: Well...you never know...

The forest Department's guest house in Sasan (Gujarat) was the nicest place to stay for many reasons; smart planning I called it at the time. M and I were keen on taking a safari into Gir Wildlife Sanctuary which was conducted by the Forest Department and it started at the guest house. So, getting out of bed and crossing the street was all the effort that was needed at that unearthly hour. Waking up could be done in the jeep while heading towards the reserve.

Curiously, the call-time for the safari was a half-hour after the lion wake-up call that had me thoroughly awake and all that 'smart' planning only came in handy when we discovered that the guest house was next to a crocodile breeding outfit (cool factor) or when we found out that the only neat food-joints were across the road. Anyways, at this point I began to develop a conspiracy theory and it started with the thought that some of the lions were on a Forest Department retainer solely for morning alarm duty.

But I digress.

We chose one of several routes chalked out for the safari. Ours took us through a Siddi village and culminated at Kamleshwar Dam which is artificially constructed. A long tale of it was narrated to us by the driver but it sounded so fantastic and improbable that we promptly took it with fists of salt and chose to forgot it. In the few hours that we were cruising like kings in the jeep, we must have seen half the species of birds documented by Salim Ali. An ornithologists dream and bird-watcher paradise it was. The lion, we did not see. This fact reaffirmed my fancy of a conspiracy afoot.

The thing that further confirmed the existence of the said conspiracy and the discovery of a curious fact: that lions can be stuck to a surface with a resin-based adhesive, was a visit to Devalia which serves as a 'Gir Interpretation Zone'. It provided us a lot of digested facts about Gir and its inhabitants; a term that I started using for the animals after a round inside the interpretation park. While we waited for that round, LCD televisions flashed a well-made movie on the reserve. At the gift shop, we asked to buy a copy. It wasn't for sale. That particular movie was made for The National Geographic Channel but we were shown other CDs. We mumbled excuses and sidled away from the sales boy.

With much trepidation we boarded a bus full of Gujarati tourists for a 20-minute round in the park. Post the dreamy safari, we weren't expecting much. Two minutes in and we spotted a nilgai. Five minutes in and our bus was parking itself after several faltered attempts, a few feet away from a pair of satisfied lionesses. I was just about done gaping when two things happened. One: the entire Gujarati contents of the bus exclaimed and moved towards the side of the bus that faced the lionesses. Two: I noticed the fence!

Some Gujju man meowed, another barked for the attention of the lioness. The bored cat didn't budge or even move. My theory: Resin glue.  So, this was a glorified zoo where the visitors could walk into the cage. I was about to concede to it being an ingenious idea when the bus started roaring unanimously,
"Paisa Wasool! Paisa Wasool!" (We got our money's worth!)

I did some mental mathematics:
Ticket for a single seat in the interpretation bus- Rs. 75/-
Jeep rental for a safari of a few hours- Rs. 1500/-

I loved the safari, even sans the lion.

For paisa wasool pictures of Gir click here.

Ananya- a limited edition book

Ananya is a book conceptualised and executed by The National Institute of Design (NID). It was commissioned by the Ministry for Women and Child Development, India. It was created and launched in the year 2009.

The making of this book was unique. A workshop was organised by the core team. It was attended by an assortment of individuals like the faculty members of NID, their children, students and alumni of the institute across disciplines. From this one day workshop came ideas, illustrations, stories which became the content of the book.

Here are some images of that day shared with the participants by NID: 

Shilpa Das, faculty at NID giving the brief along with Akhila Krishnan (NID Film alumna) and Merryn John (then Graphic Design student). All members of the core team.

The workshop participants...well...participating!

Sharing the day's work with the group

The core team

The spread below is my contribution. The text is by me which has been transcribed and the illustration is by an NID alumna Navleen Kohli.

LET ME SEE THE LIGHT

My first feeling is of floating,

A comfortable, warm inertia.

But you won't let me be, will you?

I hear you. And you don't sound happy

You'll make me go 

Before I've even arrived.

PLEASE LET ME BE

LET ME SEE THE LIGHT.

So, I go someplace else,

A place where they let me be born

I wail and wail 

Till I get my lungs full of air

But before I open my eyes,

I hear your angry voice again.

I am not surprised, when engulfed in white;

My lungs no more my own, are like liquid lead

O, WHY DON'T YOU LET ME BE

AND LETME SEE THE LIGHT?

© Illustration: Navleen Kohli, NID alumna,Animation Film Design,2009.

© Text: Shraddha Sakhalkar,2009.
© Workshop images: The National Insitute of Design,2009.

Morning raga, quite literally

R: "I can hear the Mridangam! Can you hear that Mridangam?"

I could hear no Mridangam. I am sure though that it must have been playing. I simply could not hear it because all my faculties were busy gaping. If Malgudi was a village of Tamilian Brahmins settled in Palakkad district of Kerala; it would look much like the place I was strolling in currently. 

I must have looked quite the odd animal to the residents, camera dangling by my side, walking, gaping, staring quite stupidly. All this was happening because of some occurrences I could not wrap my head around. Occurrences that were very ordinary and everyday in these parts and centered around two things: Waking up at unearthly hours and practicing at being extremely talented!

Kalpathy Gramam (village) did not live up to the stories I had heard about it but it was indeed a surprise. Even before the break of dawn, the village awoke. Sleepily, the front yards were washed by the women of the household and a small motif was drawn on the doorstep with rangoli. The motif waited to be a part of a larger rangoli while the women bathed, made Narasu's filter-coffee and cleaned their homes while lovely bhajans mostly in the voice of M. S. Subbalaxmi created a very reverent atmosphere in the background.

In rapid succession, the members of each household bathed and prayed. The women stepped onto the yard and drew elaborate, beautiful, free-hand rangolis. Each home resounded with riyaaz. Different musical instruments playing as if in tandem. Voices belting out raga after raga. Nothing co-ordinated but the whole village resounding as if it were one orchestra.

R: "This is not the full glory of Kalpathy"

Me: "Mmmm...I finally found Narasu's filter-coffee!"

R: " Lets just go..."

Kalpathy might not be in its full glory now. The younger generation is either moving out or renovating the traditional homes with misplaced modern touches. But it still is a curious place. For starters, the village is a perfect formation of right-angles. Almost each square has a temple. And every second village-square  startles you because when you turn the corner, BAM! Chariot in your face!

Like all places, the things that make Kalpathy are better experienced than read. Some, I have managed to capture on camera. 

Click here to see Kalpathy.

Most mornings in Kalpathy

The sun shines first on the temple and slowly a chariot is outlined

If you are a mere mortal, regular transportation is all you get

Temple at each end of this lane

Rangoli-making in progress

These rangolis are free-hand drawings

This lady was a little late, what with the sun already up

A finished rangoli

While the ladies were busy...

A peek into one of the temples

Some of the detailing on the roof of a temple

A couple returning home from the temple

Gramps is all done and is now observing the goings-on in Kalpathy

Some surnames in Kalpathy

A collage of moments

Go here to read about my experience at Kalpathy