Guess who's back?

Dear blog, long time no see...

You will be happy to know that much travelling has happened during that time. You and the world wide web were not missed, not remembered. Don't fret, though. I am back from the land of the dawn-lit mountains and I have stories to tell, stories to show and a strong urge to leave you again for those very mountains.

Don't hyper-ventilate, I didn't miss you but I did miss the small things in life like returning from work and retiring in my own bed with my familiar pillow and a book. Boo, the graceful pariah dog, the pair of bulbuls that visit my balcony every morning and demand banana bits. The list is long. I am rearing to go gallavanting again, but not just yet.

Such is my duality, that I did miss all these things, sorely. But I am eager to travel again. Meet new places, visit new people. Do the work I do best and do it well. In my last post, I wondered where I would travel next and it turned out to be of all places, the magical, mysterious, Arunachal Pradesh.

Dare I wonder where I'm going next?

Anticipating a weekend

Last night, delirious with sleep and exhausted after a week of research, I collapsed on my bed. As the warm red cushion blurred, I had an aakashwaani of sorts, some very wise travel philosophy. Unfortunately for me, almost immediately I also passed into a deep slumber, woke up late today, burnt some toast and barely reached work on time. Of course in all that fracas, the loss of those beautiful lines was felt this evening as I anticipated a weekend of laid-back breakfasts.

What a way to be jerked back into reality!
I wonder where I am going next?

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.

Old articles for TOI

Alas! Mysterious disappearances have left me with only a few photocopies of my almost-three-year stint as a freelance journalist. Luckily for me, these include some of my favourite articles. Since the copies are muddled and fuzzy, I recommend opening them in a new window for a better read.

Wonder what she is up to now?

It all started with the difficult job of trying to get my little sister to read!

Loved researching this one. Meeting the pets and their owners.

© Bennett Coleman & Co. Ltd 

I rehearsed, I convocated

31st Convocation ceremony at The National Institute of Design

1,2,3...OK smile...smile...and smile we did. Even though it was just a rehearsal for what was to come the next day. The two hundered odd men and women, boys and girls of The National Institute of Design. Us lucky numbers graduating on the Golden Jubliee of my beloved alma mater! Hooting, laughing, delirious; partly with the joy but mostly with the sharp noon light strategically aimed at our faces with giant reflectors. Posing for a photograph that will be handed to us tomorrow by none other than the Vice President of India, Shri M Hamid Ansari. Lo and behold! With my photograph will be a paper that says I now have a Post-Graduate Diploma in Design.

Who thought that as I stood there trying to smile acrobatically for six seconds (because thats how long the exposure was set for) while standing still and keeping my hair from flying astray with just my will; that I would feel like Alice, peering through the looking glass praying to be plesantly surprised. Who knows what is in store for this young designer?

All I was thinking was how tumulous and eventful the NID journey has been. I have grown, made friends and found suddenly that I am part of this family we call NID community. It is all too soon that I must leave. Bye-bye NID community, bye bye my beloved birds and dogs, bye-bye frisbee gang, chai-gate, edit lab, animation studio, bye-bye! See you next year at garba!

Photo courtesy: The National Institute of Design, India.

Mallu-land visually speaking

As it transpired, the trip took place over Oct and Nov 2010

Ode to all the fried fish

NH 17

The male gaze was a little persistent for the two female backpackers

Such relief to find good food

At this place

Ajanur beach is...well...

...quite pretty!

Animal sacrifice is common at Theyyam performances, animals are obviously oblivious to that fact

One of the temples outside which a Theyyam is about to take place

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery mundu, too much chooru and fried meen

Kerala called. It said, “Aiyoo Da!” and much else but all I knew in Malayalam at the time was the expletive 'poda patti!' (stupid dog!) which would not have been a very nice reply to a friendly call.

So, I packed my bags with clothes that covered all skin; like kurtas, dupattas, salwars, jeans and thats it. Ahmedabad to Mumbai. Mumbai to Kanhangad. Kanhangad onwards, my Malayalam education took a sharp turn. I was alarmed at the varieties of 'L' sounds a language could incorporate. The series of corrections of my view of Mallu-land began with the pronunciation of Kanhangad which was not KAN-HAN-GAAD as I had assumed but KAN-UUNG-AAD. Phew! Atleast I had fried meen to comfort me.

Or so I thought. The fried fish and pappadums presented themselves on my banana leaf much to my joy. I discovered I loved pulisheri. But to my dismay, the much-loved, much-needed chapati was never available anywhere. I found shawarma in Malabar and Narsu's filter-capi in Palakkad; but all I was offered when I asked for roti was porota which is a fancy-looking, tava-fried, maidawala naan from every angle.

Sigh. Bad times.

My rendition of Ajanur beach.

The actual Ajanur beach: Kanhangad

Sigh! The good kinds also happened rather frequently. The beaches of Kanhangad and Bekal offered unusual beach experiences. I witnessed, photographed and videographed Theyyams of all kinds in one night. From the costume-making to the dancing-on-coal and the chicken-sacrificing.

Food happened to me over and over again. Extremely good food, like rice in all its forms: ediappam, idli, puttu, chooru...Maade! (Enough!) Just the memories of stews, injipuli, tapioca and toran have me salivating!

In case you are wondering what happened to the mundus. I found them. Regular mundus, Narsimha mundus, Shabrimalai mundus and disco mundus. I only bought the Narsimha mundus. What skirts they will make!

The search for perfect mundu led me through Palakkad town. Gold-filled are its streets, has anyone ever mentioned? Even with shades at seven in the evening I was blinded by the bling of the multi-storeyed jewellery shops selling gold. I almost walked into one of the jewellery “malls” till I took stock of my situation: dirty jeans, faded kurta, empty wallet...

Mystery mundu, too much chooru, kappa-meen in Mallu-land,

The tharavad of Kanhangad, The starfish in Bekal's sand...

For more photographs and sketches from this trip click here.