Indian Chick-Lit : Smug and selling

Swati Kaushal

Anuja Chauhan

Meenakshi Reddy

The romance of the quick and spicy chick-lit (ingredients and flavour totally desi) is spurring the Indian market to buy and read like never before. And it is the pretty-young-things with their saucy, smug and sexy writing that are accelerating the sales into dizzy new highs. In most other genres—a struggling, breathless 3000 copies are applauded by publishers as best sellers while this savvy, in- your- face lit is instantly pulling readers and pushing over 10,000 copies per month. Aha, what have we here? Even as Indians writers are snatching worldwide attention with their heavy-weight literary fiction, it is this emerging breed of young authors that is likely to laugh all the way to the bank. For decades, Indian readers with an inclination for chicklit had to make do with the import of romance rapidly fleshed out by Mills &Boon, Harlequin etc… Neither the location nor the TDH (tall, dark and handsome) protagonists of these books quite belonged to the landscape of the Indian mind. Karthika V K, publisher and chief editor of HarperCollins, who has always enjoyed chick-lit (she hid them between text books and read them during class hours, I can vouch for that!) says, “The market is expanding and there is great scope for commercial books. With about 10–12 chick-lit titles put together by all the publishers in the Indian market—we have the right books at the right time. And these authors are writing books that have strong story lines. They are also extremely promotable authors, who are very visible.” The two titles published by HarperCollins—Almost Single by Advaita Kala and The Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan have become bestsellers and HC is planning to publish another 2-3 by next year. Interestingly even unknown authors are doing extremely well. “Yes,” agrees Karthika, “because it is packaged differently and the cover is designed for popular read.” As for You Are Here by Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan— despite an iffy plot and wild meanderings, the effusions of this much hyped blog-writer of The Complusive Confessor blog— the chronicling of mundane stuff that is nowhere near as effervescent as her blog, sold over 12000 copies in the first month. The younger readers rave about the book. Says Swathi M, “I find the book interesting and I can identify with it because she has written about the people in the metros who are aping the western culture and trying to get there.” (However, when I read the book, I pondered how the complexities of a miserable heartache could be elevated to such profound inanities. Oh boy! And I am truly grateful that expression does not come with a six pack!) But not all chick-lit is as complex in its meanderings as You Are Here. Piece of Cake (Penguin) by Swati Kaushal did well and her latest work A Girl Like Me is wellwritten and is poised to do better. Says Abhinaya Chakirala, an avid chick-lit reader, “There is a lot of sarcasm and humour in chick-lit. I really enjoyed Piece of Cake because I could relate to the central character, who had a career and a family and it was almost real. I look forward to reading her new book.”

Says author, Swati Kaushal, “I think in India, chick-lit is a very new phenomenon. The market has really grown for books that reflect the lives of confident and modern young women. There is however, the danger of too many me-books, with similar story lines and that’s when the attractiveness of a genre like chick-lit will start to fade. I think the market for well-written, accessible novels with contemporary themes is here to stay and will only grow.” As for those who want to achieve this success—anyone can try their luck at chick-lit provided you come up with the right formula and do the research, Says Diya Kar Hazra, managing editor & rights manager, Penguin India, “There’s tremendous scope for writers because there’s great demand for chick-lit. Essentially what is required is good writing: a racy narrative, a sound plot, strong characters and a good style. A strong sense of dialogue and characterisation help.” It seems like finally English chick-lit writers have found romance on Indian soil. And this is only the beginning of the deluge of novels we are about to see. Anuja Chauhan, the executive creative director and vice president of JWT, Delhi and author of The Zoya Factor speaks to What’s Hot. “The book took me one year to write—in which time I worked on it full time for three months, and part-time for nine months while also holding down my full-time day job. I wrote it because I wanted to really stretch myself out. Advertising writing is fun but there’s always a product to be sold, a story to be told, which is not mine. There are durations and budget constraints. There are other people involved—clients, directors, movie stars. Everybody has a point of view, and they should too, that’s the way advertising functions! But I wanted to write something in which there would be no constraints whatsoever. And in which there would be no one to call the shots but me. Writing a novel gave me that freedom. The writing process was wild giddy fun from start to finish. I had a total blast, people kept asking me if I was expecting while I was writing, I had a glow. The book’s been received very well! Much better than I would’ve imagined in my most optimistic dreams. Ninety five percent of the reviews have been raves. I’m very flattered and very excited. We’ve sold seventeen thousand copies in less than two months! I have some very exciting movie offers too. And yes, I am very wary of being pigeon-holed. Now if there was a genre called damned-good-book-ya-mustread-ya-couldn’t-put-it-down-ya, then I would love to be classified in that!”

A Poetry Soiree

That's Kapil for you-I am sure you can recognize him from behind too It began for Kapil Sibal (Union Minister for Science and Technology and Earth Sciences) quite unintentionally. When he wrote poems for judges who were retiring, the verses were always laudatory—“At the bar, the golden rule, in order to seek discretionary relief, is to be exceptionally laudatory about the judges. I did not, after their retirement want to deviate from this well-accepted norm,” he says in the introduction of I Witness, Partial Observations, his first book of verse. It unleashes unbridled wit and scorn, nostalgia and angst of this lawyer-politician turned poet. At an evening of poetry at Landmark, Kapil Sibal in conversation with Kanimozhi explains, “I never thought I will write a book on poetry. It was result of boredom on long flights that I decided to pen a few thoughts mostly for self- entertainment.” When Kanimozhi asks him how he feels as a poet, he replies, “It would be too presumptive of me to think of myself as poet. That is why I call it parital observations.” Kanimozhi goes on to ask him what makes him decide on a poem. He replies, “I write on what I see around me. And things are changing rapidly. Before people used to write love letters now they send SMSes.” The themes of Sibal’s poems dwell on a wide range of subjects like love, Tsunami, nano, parents etc... The seductive excitement of Twenty20 cannot be more succinctly expressed, “Instant stroke play / without any foreplay:/” But the subjects turn often to the comfort of his core areas—the political and judicial realm. Who better than a politician can poetically describe the ways of a sycophant and his feelings, “I suitably choreograph my way / almost to perfection /” then the poem ends, “My leader is thoughtful and kind,/ makes me feel most wanted; / endangered species that he is,/ I can’t take him for granted. /” There is also a poem devoted to the July 22 vote of confidence, To Trust or not to Trust, and an ode to the other politico-poet A B Vajpayee which is titled Man behind the mask. Sibal’s “thoughts in quarantine” sure did compile them into an amusing and interesting book of verse. Some of the lines get your attention and will soon become part of the quotable quotes. Take the lines from Winner’s Recipe, where he holds forth on elections, “Most electoral victories / an ephemeral illusion. Kapil Sibal has not minced words in his satire of journalists, politicians and lawyers in his poem Defining Moments. So how does this lawyer turned politician see a poet? Kapil Sibal gives an exclusive byte to What’s Hot, “Poets always exaggerate things—all art is an exaggeration of reality. It is not just exaggeration, it is philosophical, it is a veneer of reality. You see reality as you see it, all art is partial. My poems are rooted in contemporary Indian context. The problem with modern poetry is it is too esoteric, too distanced from reality-completely uncommunicative. All art is a form of communication and it should be appreciated by the consumer of art.” Will you be quoting poetry in the courts and for your political speeches like Vajpayee? “There is a time and place for everything. Poetry has its own place in the overall architecture that we are part of. In the context of that I will continue to use it as form of expression as I will prose. I have also two books in mind.”

SINS OF SYNTAX

The Power Of The Glance

The military generals, we are talking about geniuses here, are said to have a certain “coup d’oeil”— roughly translated from French, it means the power of the glance. In the military sense it is “the ability to immediately see and make sense of the battlefield” under high stress. The power of the glance is often undermined and considered to be irrelevant in a world where theory and study hold a hierarchical and privileged position. But Blink by Malcolm Gladwell pares away at those theories and proves that our power of assessing something in the first few seconds—our gut reaction can be absolutely correct, bang on. Interestingly Blink continues to dominate the prime areas on book shelves even though it was first published three years ago. I went into a re-read here because one of the bookshops in the city was having a discount sale and they were offering it for Rs 45 less. This is one book every one should have on their bookshelves, so go get it.

Written powerfully, Blink conveys that humans have an intuition that is often suppressed because “our world requires that decisions be sourced and footnoted.” Gladwell suggests that to get to know a prospective employee, it would be a good idea to check out his house instead of giving him a big fat test. He may pass your test but just may fail the house-peek because his house may reveal things that are quite different from the “deliberate expressions” about how he would want to be perceived by the world. So it is with relationships, there are experts who can tell you, if a marriage will last. Gladwell quotes marriage expert John Gottman, “Contempt is special. If you can measure contempt, then all of a sudden you don’t need to know every detail of a couple’s relationship.” That’s because, if someone you love expresses contempt then it begins to affect the functioning of your immune system. Gladwell tells you how to look at things but that doesn’t mean you cannot get it wrong. But he will tell you where you are going wrong. Guess, that's about all he can do.

SINS OF SYNTAX

Review of Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi

TALKING ABOUT A REVOLUTION OH NO!

Witnessing a revolution can be quite traumatic. In the graphic memoir Persepolis, The story of a childhood—a Bildungsroman—Marjane, a little girl grows up in Iran in the midst of the Islamic revolution. The dichotomy of thoughts reflected on the pages in stark black and white makes it painfully poignant.

Marjane begins her early childhood with visions of God and hopes of becoming the next prophet. In the midst of the religious revolution, Marji rejects God and banishes her “unshakeable faith” from the landscape of her mind. The ten- year-old has already read Marx and the history of Iran ( atleast in comic books) and sees the revolution clearly in the historical context. Her games are not with sissy toys—though her parents don’t let her accompany them to demonstrations—she asserts her grownup-ness in the form of agitations in the garden, dressed up as Che Guevara. The grimness of the situation outside is quite graphically revealed in the shape of her mouth. The smiley curve is not visible on the young face instead it is a downward twist of the mouth—a painful glumness that runs through the entire book often spilling into tears. Her parents Eby and Taji have their hands full, trying to instil the right ideas into their child. But the adults had first demonstrated against the Shah during the revolution and then against the Islamic regime itself, which could confound any child. The outer conflicts merge with the inner conflicts—confusing Marji in the process. She thinks she should hurt a schoolmate Ramin whose father was with the secret police of the Shah. So armed with brass knuckles, she and her friends go to attack Ramin but her mother intervenes. When the guardians of the revolution confront Marji for not wearing her scarf properly she lies to save herself and then one lie leads to another and she cannot help lying to her mother. Is it wrong or right to lie in the times of war is morally unclear and here the government itself officially lies—everyone seems to lie with impunity. The scenes of empty supermarkets, the death of friends, the ‘veiled’ classrooms make for the mundane but overwhelming details of the war. Marji’s hidden “western” habits—wearing nailpolish or listening to music and her outspokenness only add to the problems of her living in Iran and her parents are forced to send her away to Austria. ( Persepolis, the animated film won the Jury Prize at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival.)

Appropriating Gandhiji

Cordoned off in red! With no exit.

(Photograph by Rajeev Prasad)

Incredible India: A Shower Stop

A quick shower before the next leg of the journey? Where else? An open platform serves the cool refreshing purpose. (Photograph by Rajeev Prasad)

The Leela, Kovalam, Trivandrum

Rediscovering Kovalam (Photographs by Avran Ittyipe)

The Leela undoubtedly has the best view in Kovalam. Perched prettily on a cliff it has restaurants (for that view with the bite) littered along the steep path down to the beach.

Sky Bar on the way to the beach

The Sky Bar on the slope is breaaaaaaath taking . The hidden infinity pool tucked into the side of the cliff and The Tides restaurant bang on the beach are the big attractions. Forget the food. It is the view sweet that’s going to make you loosen your purse strings mighty quick.

If you ask me the buffet is nothing to write home about. I will begin with the dessert coz it is the most memorable of the whole meal. There is a wide range but I loved the plain vanilla ice cream and the fruit crumble.

The main course: For the sake of eating I kind of twirled my fork through the plate, investigating and dwelling for a considerable time on a surprise- the apple pickle, the safe Russian salad and a delectable rice. Rs 700 plus taxes per head for the buffet.

But we came back for a day time deko. And I cannot help reiterating this is Paradise.

The Tides seafood restaurant on the Beach

On display. To turn into your favourite dish.

Ham and cheese sandwich. Rs 350 plus taxes

Kochi's Housing Sector

You have a choice here: the Highs or the Lows. (Photograph by Rajeev Prasad)

A Strike To Behold

Police ready to strike against the striking public. A Political party had organised a strike to protest against the persistent price rise of commodities in Kerala. (Photographs by Rajeev Prasad)

Syrian Christian Food: Nazarani Tharavad, Pala

Nazarani Tharavad, Pala It is in the geography of drenched greens and coconut palms where the persistent peal of the thundering rains wakes up every dormant seed and jerks it into a tangled mass of leafscape. We are in the Nazarani Tharavad in Pala, a rubber town in central Travancore.

The St.Thomas Church, Pala

The Nazaranis(Syrian Christians) have been around a long time in Kerala. Popular theory suggests Christianity was well established here, at least three centuries before it wore the official robes of a religion in Europe.

The rulers of ancient Malabar gave the Christian community the grant of privileges perhaps for their social and economical eminence and the traces of those privileges have survived to this very day. Some of the privileges granted to them were curious, like the light by day (Yes, the light by day had to be granted and was an exclusive privilege!), the use of the umbrella, the spreading cloth to walk upon, doubling up the end of the banana leaf which serve as a plate etc...

At the Nazarani Tharavad we sit down to lunch and the narrow end of the banana leaf is folded, in keeping with the traditional custom. This is supposed to be symbolical of the privilege of eating from a double plate. The Kerala sadhya on the banana leaf can be likened to an orchestra. The complex process of preparation of each dish can run into hours but what is placed on the leaf, in almost sacred reverence is just a small dollop, just enough to caress the palate, the right note to create beautiful music from the fusion of different flavours.

Dinner Setting at the Nazarani Tharavad

The Nazarani sadhya is a little different from the regular Kerala Hindu sadhya because of the addition of non vegetarian elements to the meal. Kerala has always had an integrative tradition and communities share and adopt ideas from each other and this is true to the cuisine of the region as well.

Fish Pollichathu

Fried fish with onion salad, followed by kallappam (rice pancakes) and mutton stew, duck roast, and then the full fledged vegetarian medley along with meen vevichathu (red fish curry) and erachi ularthiyathu (fried meat) accompanied by rice, dal curry, sambar, rasam and buttermilk is our hostess Thressi Kottukapally’s offering of the complete Nazarani sadhya. The inchi curry (ginger curry) with its pungent sweetness, the sweet neyyappam, fried banana coated with jaggery, the sweet- sour kalen, aviyal balances the hot red fish curry and the flaming pungency of the fried meat. The pungent, the sweet and the sour play out their moments on the taste buds. A wee kiss of the ginger curry prepares me for the banana, curds and the palm toddy syrup at the end of the meal. Again a touch of the ginger curry on my palate helps me to enjoy the climax of the meal- the lentil and jaggery payasam.

It is difficult today to draw the boundary of the cuisine of each of the communities as they are now all part of the Kerala repertoire. The Syrian Christian contribution to the Kerala cuisine has been manifold and the most noted are the hoppers, duck roast, meen vevichathu (red fish curry) and the isthew (stew). The rice flour cakes, hoppers and pancakes use the natural fermenting ingredient- toddy to leaven the batter. These rice flour cakes are versatile enough to be eaten with the ishtews and the roasts, while the soft sweet vattayappam can be eaten as a snack. The mottayappam or the country pancake filled with coconut gratings and sugar is irresistible.

INRI Appam

The INRI appam, an unleavened rice flour cake flavoured with shallots, cumin seed and garlic dipped in pesaha pal (jaggery syrup) is eaten to commemorate the Last Supper. During this solemn occasion the appam and pal (denoting the body and blood of Christ) is shared by the members of the family. Interestingly this custom is perhaps most prevalent in Pala today. The red hot fish curry, which can set the taste buds on fire, goes well with tapioca, a staple of Kerala. The kokum used to give the tartness is of the large yellow fleshy variety, and the dried kokum is a pertinent ingredient for the meen vevichathu.

The duck roast, a ceremonial dish, is a Syrian favourite and graces the festive meals of Christmas and Easter। Thressi Kottukapally who has penned the “Kerala Syrian Christian Favourites”, a recipe book guides me through the process of the duck roast- the duck cooks in the ingredients and then the pieces are perfectly fried. There is nothing quite like this duck roast, I should say nothing quite like Thressi’s duck roast.

Recipe for Thressi’s Duck Roast

Ingredients

Dressed Duck : 1kg, 100 gms

Ginger : 20 gms

Garlic : 30 gms

Onions : 300 gms

Pepper powder : 2 Tablespoons

Turmeric powder : ½ Teaspoon

Vinegar : 1 Tablespoon

Salt : 2 ¼ teaspon

For Garnishing :

Potatoes : 300 gms (cut into long broad strips)

Onions : 250 gms (sliced fine lengthwise)

Method of preparation:

*Fry the sliced onions till golden brown.

*Fry the potatoes till golden in colour.

*Keep aside the fried onions and potatoes.

*Clean the duck and cut into big pieces.

*Grind the ginger, garlic and onions to a fine paste in a grinder.

*Mix pepper and turmeric to the ground paste.

*Add the duck pieces along with vinegar, salt and cook till duck is done.

*Remove from fire.

*Remove the duck pieces and fry lightly and keep aside.

*In the same oil add the gravy and cook till the gravy thickens.

*Add the fried duck pieces and cook for a few minutes.

Remove and serve hot, garnished with fried onions and potatoes.

Nazarani Tharavad Tariff: Euro 150 Double/ Full Board

Cookery classes: Additional Rs 1000/- per day. For further information

Contact 04822- 212438, email: nazaranitharavad@yahoo.com

(First published by Spice, India Today)

Buffet Weekends at Casino Hotel, Cochin

(Photographs by Avran Ittyipe) I abhor a buffet. Usually. The endless spread of food and decorations are deviously designed to deceive the eye more than satisfy our gastronomic fantasies. And the process of selecting can be tedious too. Every dish is nibbled at and then without a single thought the entire plate load of food is left to be cleared away, so I can then resume trying the remaining array of dishes. And it is on the third round that I realize there is only one dish that is worth eating or it is better to simply stick with curd rice and pickles. Well, in other words the badly tossed up dishes that pass for most buffets can be tiresomely boring. Forget the wedding arrangements. It is predictably worse when the plate is so godam heavy, the queues long, the seating arrangements are just anywhere you please and your worries about saving your beautiful sari from curry stains are endless; needless to say all this makes the buffet even more unappetizing.

So one Saturday night, when the lights were low and we were wondering where to go, every place in the city has been tried over and over and that goes for Casino too, but nevertheless we landed up at Tharavad Restaurant, Casino Hotel. When the bearer insisted I go for the buffet, I begged off. I really didn’t want to eat a whole lot of junk but he persisted, he said it was good. So I reluctantly consented, a little weary there.

But then there is no denying it was one of the best buffets I have ever had, considering the last good one I had was sixteen years ago, in Goa, and that was a breakfast buffet. Those breakfast pancakes with syrup are still a memory that I relish.

And that was the case here too. I fell hard for the Fish Orley. Crispy and delicious it was one sensation that I helped myself to shamelessly. Three or four times. Even as I harp on Fish Orley let me tell you the rest of the spread was good too. The pork roast, the beef in oyster sauce, the cheese balls, the boston bake and sweet, sweet desserts to top it all off. Every dish was carefully made, not just thrown in for the number, but lovingly done to please the eye and quieten the rumblings of the stomach. Every bite was worth the effort.

Weekend Dinner Buffet for one: Rs. 400 plus taxes. For reservation call 0484-2668221, 2668222

Fish Orley with Salads

Recipe for Fish Orley

Fish: 2 fillets of seer fish or red snapper

Coating ingredients

Flour: 100 gms, Egg: 1, Salt: a pinch, Pepper: a pinch, Chopped capsicum: 1 tsp, Chopped tomato: 1 tsp,

Method: Mix flour, egg, salt and pepper and leave to rise. Add the finely chopped pieces of capsicum and tomato to the flour mixture. Dip the fish fillet and deep fry. Serve with sauce.

In Search Of A Village

(Photographs By Minu Ittyipe)

For quite a while, an unknown malady has raged through my bones and clogged my throat. Any doctor worth his stet would have dismissed it as the evils of excessive work, but that was not the case with me coz for a long time now I have not wholly committed myself to the masochistic pleasures of wearing myself thin. And yet the fever raged on. After much medication I arrived at a diagnosis: it was the habitat, the caged atmosphere that drove me to the stage of rancid comatose. I had to get out of the urban confines and find a bit of breath air. Fresh air. Fast.

So I set out in search of a village, where I can spot a cow instead of the snorting vehicles or I could get to hear a hen announcing that she has laid a nice warm egg. When was the last time you heard a delighted clucking of the hen? Perhaps, you’ve never heard that one before. It’s the kind of music you will not hear in the city. And that is an urban fact. In the urbanscape, I find that I forget to listen to the whisper of the wind or call of the bird. And now I must go in search, like a sleuth, hunt down, track down, those earthy pleasures and my very own nature that I have lost.

Ponds and streams in the Kallanchery Retreat

But I am most often a sloppy sleuth, so I decided on the closest village, the Kumblangi Village that was hardly 20 minutes from Cochin. And I arrived at the village, where the green spell was still in place and the housing sector had not yet gone high rise. Where the fantasies of the village life was not a dream but a living reality.

Lucky Ducky and Gang, Kumbalangi Village

The ducks in the ponds, the hens worrying the worms, the cows mooing to glory and not a sound of the vehicular traffic to sully the air. The Kallanchery Retreat at Kumblangi village was just the place I needed to slip into a hammock and get my breath back.

Everything on the menu

We ordered lunch, everything seafood on the menu (how I love anything from the sea). Eat your vegetables is a nagging reminder, okay so a few plates of that too. The fare is simple and home cooked.

A Fishing I must go.....

Siddharth, a guest caught a fish and shows off. “Last time I caught three.” He said. He is one small veteran in this area.

Then I lay in a hammock in the retreat’s coconut grove and surveyed the stillness of the backwaters that seemed to extend in silvery tones to the right and to the left of the grove. What else was there to do in such a dreamy state except to enjoy the rice, curry and seafood and read awhile.

With no interest in conversation, I just lay back and took it all in: a slice of paradise.

Contact: P. R. Lawrence

Kalancherry Retreat, Kumblangi village

Phone: 0484- 2240564

E-mail: mail@kallancheryretreat.com

Book Review: An Autobiography Of A Sex Worker by Nalini Jameela

I am 51 years old. And I would like to continue to be a sex worker.” This is how the candid and defiant opening statement in Nalini Jameela’s autobiography in Malayalam, Oru Lymgika-thozhilaliyude Atmakadha, goes. It at once throws a challenge at society’s double standards — harsh on prostitutes and soft on the clients. Nalini Jameela, who is the coordinator of the Kerala Sex Workers’ Forum, reveals her sordid story with no trace of compunction.

Nalini was a 24-year-old widow when she entered the profession to feed her two children. At that time she did not think about the repercussions of her act. She writes, “I was earning Rs 4.50 at a tile factory near Trissur. My mother-in-law served me with an ultimatum to either give her five rupees a day to look after my children or leave the house. I recounted my woes to a friend, who introduced me to Rosechechi. Rosechechi promised me Rs 50 if I spent time with a man. The first thought that came to my mind was that my children would be looked after for the next 10 days. So I went with her to Rama Nilayam, a guesthouse in Trissur for vip politicians. There was a senior police officer there. It was a farewell gift for him as he was getting transferred. When he asked me to remove my clothes I refused. I could not bring myself to stand naked before him. Rosechechi pacified him saying that I was from the villages and it was the first time that I was doing it. When he heard this, he was thrilled. After the police officer finished, the driver wanted to sleep with us but we refused.”

Nalini’s first foray as a sex worker gave her an inkling of the double standards she would face in this line of work. Next morning, when she left the guesthouse with Rosechechi, a police jeep picked them up and took them to the station. Nalini was given a beating. She screamed out in pain and anger, “The police are there to sleep with us at night, and beat us during the day.” The force of the beatings only increased. The question she asks to this day is, “Why wasn’t the guesthouse raided when we were there? Why did they wait untill we had left the premises, to arrest us?” She points out that there had been many instances like this when they got picked up afterwards so that the clients could be protected.

It didn’t stop with the police beatings either. Hearing of the incident her family decided to banish her from the area forever. “I was told by a friend that I would be chased away, so I left the place and never went back.” With her back against the wall, no place to stay and no job, Nalini was compelled to rent a house along with Rosechechi and continue in the trade. She managed to send money secretly for her children, through a friend, to her mother-in-law.

Nalini’s story, which is retold by I.Gopinath also traces the formation of the sex workers in Kerala into an organised forum that now meets openly to discuss their problems and demand their rights. What is also interesting is the change in society’s attitude towards prostitution over the years. In the early years of her profession Nalini seemed to be happy in the so called “company houses” in Palakkad district. “I was lucky that they were not like the brothels of Mumbai. These houses were old tharavads where only a few women resided with a bodyguard and a broker in charge, and I was able to live comfortably.”

Nalini describes those tharavads. “There were some cows at the house. On the pretext of buying cows, brokers would bring clients. While the value of the cow was decided outside, the clients would come into the house and the actual business would take place. The cow business was only a front. Even though people knew the truth, they never bothered us.”

Gopinath, a CPI(M) activist-cum-journalist, who has spent many years working for the upliftment of sex workers, both in Mumbai and Kerala, comments, “ The culture of Kerala has changed rapidly in the 80s and the 90s. A prudishness associated with a convent upbringing has spread through Kerala and sex is considered a sin. People do not have any tolerance towards sex workers. To cite an instance, when we organised a protest against waste dumping by the corporation in Laloor, near Trissur, sex workers were also invited to join the march. The other marchers refused to walk with them. We had to send the sex workers back.”

To escape the life of prostitution Nalini married twice more but she had to return to it time and again for her survival. Her third marriage lasted for 12 years and it was her entry into prostitution for the third time that saw Nalini actively work in the Sex Workers’ Forum. With the help of a social worker, Maithreyan, she was sent to Thailand for a video workshop for sex workers from five developing countries. There she was given a camera, and her first eight-minute documentary One day in the Life of a Sex Worker evolved. In 2003, she was commissioned to do a second one, A Peep into the Life of the Silenced. She now wishes to do a feature film.

Nalini points out that one of the most pertinent problems facing society in its fight against aids is the way it addresses the target group. She says that the Partnership for Social Health, aids cell, focuses only on the lower income group. “Our clients also come from the middle-class and the higher income group. Because they are not targeted we have problems convincing them to use condoms. They just refuse to use them.” According to Nalini, there are about 8,000 sex workers in Kerala and all of them are aware of aids.

She says today she has the freedom to choose her clients. Her youngest daughter and son-in-law give her moral support. “When my daughter was 17, I entered this field for the third time. I had to tell her what I was doing. Even if she was apprehensive about how society would treat her, she understood why I chose to do this. We had no other means of living. My third husband had taken another wife and for three years we begged around temples and mosques.”

Paradoxes abound in the small state of Kerala — a sex worker who had no freedom of choice because of her economic conditions, today speaks about the other freedoms that she enjoys. Even as the media revels in the glossiness of sexually tinted advertisements, and serials portray empowered women, the reality is pretty skewed in Kerala — it is not safe for women to go out alone after eight at night, and the sex scandals that rock the state compete hotly with serials on a regular basis. Nalini says that sex workers seem to have more freedom than ordinary women in this progressive state. She asks, “In Kerala, can other women walk alone on the road as bravely as we can? To some extent, sex workers have more freedom in matters of sex as compared to the ordinary married woman who has to take her husband’s beatings and abuses all her life. The sex worker has the freedom of choice not to go with a client that she does not like.” Perhaps there is some truth in her reasoning.

(First Published by Tehelka)

Book Review: Unsung By Anita Pratap & Mahesh Bhat

Unsung Text by Anita Pratap & Photographs by Mahesh Bhat

Changla artificial glacier: The highest watershed project in the world. It feeds several villages down stream in Ladakh. (Photograph By Mahesh Bhat)

In the raucous market place (read the globalized world), glam exteriority has encroached upon our consciousness and conquered every available space- be it the media, our sartorial sense, our attitudes, purchasing habits, culture etc.. . As a consequence the traditional Gandhian values, which were not sexy enough in the first place, have slowly been obliterated from our perception of what holds good. Who frankly has the time for concepts like selfless giving shorn of fame and media attention? It is so passé. So the book “Unsung” by journalist Anita Pratap and photographer Mahesh Bhat comes as a big surprise. The duo has chosen to capture the lives not of famous actors or cricketers but of ordinary people from different parts of the country. These unknown, “unsung” people have selflessly given of their time, energy and their lives to the happiness of others.

The story of Subhashini Mistry, a vegetable seller from Hanspukur, near Kolkata, who saved small amounts of money for twenty weary years to start a hospital for the poor, is heart rending and it ceaselessly nags you for your selfish stylish ways. Subhashini was married off at the age of twelve to Sadhan, an agriculture worker. He earned just Rs. 200 and with four children the couple struggled to make ends meet. In 1971, Sadhan was rushed to the Government hospital in Tollygunge, Kolkata for gastro enteritis. But the nurses and doctors refused to treat him because he was poor and he died as a result. A familiar story right? The story did not end with her husband’s death. Subhashini wowed she would build a hospital for the poor. And despite being dirt poor with four hungry children, she saved small amounts of money- Rs.100, Rs.50 towards her dream. Twenty years later she bought a plot and put up a shed and begged doctors to volunteer their service. Now after years of knocking on doors, the hospital has grown into a two- storied building which is absolutely free for the poor. She says, “What’s the use of material things like bangles and saris. We cant take them with us when we die. But the happy faces of the cured poor people have given me such joy and meaning in this life.”

George Pulikutiyil: "My mission is to make justice administration a mass movement. Protection of human rights should be part of people's culture." (Photograph by Mahesh Bhat)

Closer home the book focuses on George Pulikuthiyil in Thrissur. George Pulikuthiyil was formerly a priest but the priestly life of listening to the usual ritualistic confessions bored him and he felt “distanced from the everyday struggles of the ordinary people whom he yearned to serve.” So he gave up priesthood and looked without the walls of the church to find God and he took up a new cause to defend the defenceless. He studied law and started Jananeethi, an NGO to provide justice for the poor. Through Jananeethi, he fought for the rights of all sections of society, irrespective of caste, class and creed. He says, “My mission is to make justice administration a mass movement. Protection of human rights should be part of a people’s culture.”

Changla artificial glacier

The book even journeys to the cold hazardous terrains of Ladakh to showcase a man who makes artificial glaciers. If you thought “only God made glaciers” you are dead wrong because seventy-one year old Chewang Norphel makes glaciers to provide water for the water starved region of Ladakh. “Melting snows generate millions of gallons of water but it goes waste because it comes too late to Ladakh.” Cultivation in Ladakh is limited to a short season of spring and early summer but Ladakh receives water only in June and nothing grew in Ladakh till Norphel came up with his plan.

The book showcases people like Norphel and Pulikuthiyil- ordinary people with extraordinary ideas and a will to carry it through. Says Anita Pratap, who travelled to the four corners of the country to research these ordinary heroes, “Mahesh and I have chosen people who have dedicated their whole lives to the service of others. And we have ensured that there is a fair representation of geographical, religious and different causes in the book. What is interesting is that many of these people spoke about Gandhiji and his book “My story of experiments with truth.” I feel the book should be introduced to students as compulsory reading material. It took us three years to put Unsung together and it has been worth the effort.”

“Unsung” is a slim book, easy to read and the photographs by Mahesh Bhat in stark black and white are powerful and create the right tone. It is an inspiring read for both adults and adolescents. The proceeds of the sales go to the untiring efforts of these Unsung Heroes.

(First published by The New Indian Express)

BooK Review: Diary Of A Bad Year By J.M.Coetzee

Book Review: Diary of a Bad Year by J. M. Coetzee

Knowing no other, one assumes it is in the natural order of things to read a book from the top of the page and then slowly scroll down to the bottom (it should be stressed here the language in reference is English). But given a chance it would be interesting to upturn that dull route and begin at the bottom or even bang in the middle of a page, read a paragraph then ascend to the top, read another para and then plunge to the bottom. And interestingly J.M.Coetzee’s new novel “Diary of a Bad Year” affords us that change – to take a detour from the only path we have perseveringly trodden since the advent of the novel or since the beginning of the written word.

Each page is divided into three distinct sections in “Diary of a Bad Year”. The top portion occupies the opinions of a decrepit writer named JC, the ostensible purpose of the book. The protagonist JC is one among six writers from different countries commissioned by a publisher in Germany to pronounce “what is wrong with today’s world.” The mid- section of each page is devoted to the narrator JC’s thoughts on Anya. JC hires Anya, a young woman who lives in his apartment block to type his manuscript titled: Strong Opinions.

JC, unwell and old, feels that perhaps Anya will be the last of his infatuations before he leaves this earthly abode and so he hires her to be close to her. However, JC goes on to construct Anya as a stereotype: a dumb woman with a perfect derriere. “There are times when I stare at dismay at the text that she turns in.” And he derides her enthusiasm for shopping. “What Anya mainly does to fill the dead hours is to shop. At around eleven in the morning, three or four days a week, she will drop off the typing she has done. Come in, have a cup of coffee, I will suggest. She will shake her head. I have shopping to do.”

But ironically in the third section, the narrator is Anya and Coetzee uses her as a tool for self criticism – to give the perspective from below. Says Anya about JC’s writings, “There is a tone- I don’t know the best word to describe it- a tone that really turns people off. A know- it- all tone. Everything is cut and dried: I am the one with all the answers, here is how it is, don’t argue, it wont get you anywhere.” These jabs at his own writings are amusing and there is even a suggestion to treat his decrepit opinions a little lightly as he meanders from the Origins of the state to National Shame to pedophilia to Avian Influenza. He covers a wide of range of topics in his Strong Opinions.

The reading gets a little complex as it tends gallop at full speed in the lower half of the page while on the top, reined in by the highbrow stuff it slows to a trot. The braiding of non fiction and fiction, the prurient thoughts and the intellectual engagement on a single page proves to be an interesting but taxing exercise for the reader.

But this kind of experimentation is not new for this Nobel laureate because Coetzee is a master of experiments. In his previous book “Slow Man” Coetzee had foisted a protagonist-writer Elizabeth Costello of an earlier novel onto the Paul Rayment in “Slow Man”.

In “Diary of a Bad Year”, Coetzee hints that he is perhaps too old to attempt another novel and he expresses regret at having spent his entire life clawing to the top at the expense of not enjoying his life enough.

(First Published by The Sunday Express)

Walking Through Jew Town, Cochin

A perfect place to rummage and chaffer for fragments of history- truncated tales that one calls antiques, is the quaint old Jew Town at Mattancherry. The overwhelming melancholy of a town abandoned by its own people-the Jews, makes a walk through it is as fascinating as discovering bits and pieces of history to pack and carry back home. The long warehouses abutting each other spill out into narrow alleys and on the other side the tranquil backwaters merge with the roar of the Arabian Sea.

No one knows the exact date when the Jews first came to Cranganore, Kerala but somewhere in the fourteenth century they began fleeing Cranganore and wandered into Cochin. And Jew Town was built on the site granted to them by the Rajah of Cochin in 1567. After living in this town for almost four hundred years, trading prosperously and even waging wars with the Portuguese, in the 1950’s the Jewry began to migrate to Israel and by the 1980’s they were only a handful left in this town.

History's Junkyard

At about that time the first antique shop called Indian Arts and Curios was opened by a non- Jewish resident M P Isadore near the magnificent Paradesi Synagogue that was built in 1568. Slowly the pepper and ginger trading in the warehouses was displaced by the antique shops, which proved to be a far more lucrative business. The string of antique shops has a welter of objects piled precariously and the disorderly array of pieces make it truly history’s junkyard.

It is amusing to walk through the narrow streets and find what constitutes antiques and it is just not antiques but exact replicas too that jostle for space in the crowded shops. If our great grandmothers were alive they would be tickled to find that varpu (utensil for cooking payasam or halwa), chembu (utensil for cooking grains), spittoons, wooden spoon holders, old cash boxes, para (rice measures), spice boxes etc. now occupy pride of place as treasured antiques. The reason being that in haute style, drawing rooms are appropriating old kitchen utensils and showcasing them as objects of virtu!

Varpu and urulli, both round cooking utensils made of bronze are uniquely Kerala in character and when filled with water, flowers and floating candles it adds the dash of ethnic verve. You can pick up both the old and the new vessels and the price varies from Rs 450 to Rs 600 per kilo while the antique ones with motifs sends the costs accelerating further. The world’s biggest varpu is on exhibit at the Crafters Antique Shop and it draws thousands of curious tourists. Weighing 3184 kilos with beautiful motifs this three -year old varpu is not for sale.

The cash boxes with brass inlay sends a frisson of excitement down the spine when intriguing secret compartments are discovered within. Cash boxes and mundu pettis are increasingly being used as coffee tables or stools to enhance the traditional look. And very innovative idea is the use of Kerala’s ayurvedic massage platforms- modishly reinvented as longish coffee tables and the new designs are far more striking than the traditional ones. At Pappali’s Antiques Shop, the Kerala palanquins and the Kerala doors with shutter and frame with the intricate manichitrathazhu are heavier pieces that can be accommodated only in large spaces. The Jew almirah with coloured glass, an eighteenth century riveting piece of workmanship is here for the taking.

The Indian Arts and Curios has a fairly large collection of Chinese Jars that are mute testaments of a bygone trade. Long ago before the colonial crowd arrived on these shores the Chinese were peacefully trading with Kerala. The Cheena valla (Chinese fishing nets), Cheena Bharani (Chinese Jars), Cheena chatti (Chinese wok) etc. left behind by these traders are the remnants of a trading activity that took place over five hundred years ago. The Chinese Jars made of porcelain and clay are beautiful collector’s items and the big Chinese glazed jars with dragons embossed on them are period pieces that cannot be exported. It is believed that the Chinese brought water and oil in them and the bigger jars were used to balance the galley ships and on their return they carried spices. Every old Kerala home had the big and small Cheena Bharani, which were used to store salted mangoes, tamarind, salt etc. Ranging from Rs. 700 to Rs. 12000 or more, these jars are a great buy. While the Dutch left behind ink jars and alcohol bottles that are not as expensive but their lovely shapes make great objets d’art.

The colourful wooden Cow Heads that are used in temple processions on the 28^th day after Onam found in the Ochira region and the plainer white Cow Heads from the Palakkad are exclusive to Kerala. The originals with vegetable dye paint are a rare find but the replicas are widely available and even on close examination it is difficult to detect the difference. If it is Cow Heads that arrests your attention Epic Craft has a good collection.

Politically Inclined Derriere?

There is something here for everyone even for the hardened politician. When the electronic age with its voting machines beeped in, the sturdy old ballot boxes were jettisoned without a second thought and now one finds these curiosities only in the realm of antiquity. You can pick up wooden ballot boxes at the Indian Arts and Curios shop to either showcase them or use as seats for your politically inclined derriere!

Tips for the buyer

1. Never buy broken or welded pieces. They do not have resale value.
2. The proportions of the furniture should be right.
3. Make sure all the compartments of boxes are there.
4. The patina on the bronze and brass indicates the antiquity.
5. Look out for natural distinguishing marks.
6. Make sure the locks and keys of cupboards and tables are in good condition
7. (First published by India Today-Home. Some Changes have been made.)

The Lost World

(Photograph By Rajeev Prasad) Hey! Hey! What's happenin here? Can't a guy have a room with a view anymore?!!!

The Spectacle Of Silence: For Culture Tourists

(Photograph by Rajeev Prasad) There is no telling when a bandh or a hartal will be bestowed on the Kerala populace. The tourists in Kochi forced to take a detour from their planned itinerary try to comprehend this unusual but popular culture of the place. Where else can one witness the frequent spectacle of silent cities? Only in Kerala! Asianet Business desk reports that Kerala makes a loss of 650 crores on a single bandh day.

The Idukki Dam In Kerala : Upto The Brim

(Picture By Rajeev Prasad. Click on it to enlarge.) The Idukki dam rising to dangerous levels. A beautiful but potentially catastrophic scenery.

Book Review : The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid

Book Review: The Reluctant Fundamentalist By Mohsin Hamid. The Reluctant Fundamentalist it is not about the hyphenated identity crisis where the emigrant longs for his roots- plenty books have dealt with that in plenty tired ways. Here the voice of the narrator - a tense monologue -reveals the dilemma of the Self as the Other sees him. Post 9/11, a Pakistani in America is viewed with suspicion and fear. The “fragile identity” of the narrator slowly merges with the image the Other has of the Self. The slow change of the protagonist from a self assured executive to the image of the “fundamentalist stereotype” manufactured by Americans is angst ridden and tense. Satre’s theory of Existentialism points to this effect: “The Other has not only revealed to me what I was; he has established me in a type of being which can support new qualifications. This being was not in me potentially before the appearance of the Other, for it could not have found any place in the For-itself….. ”

The protagonist Changez is a 22 year old Pakistani in the US, after an education in Princeton, he is employed by Underwood Samson a valuation firm. It’s a rosy life. Then 9/11 happens and the American attitude changes. The idea of the religious fundamentalist, a potential terrorist, is manufactured right down to The Look: A beard becomes a symbol to fear. The suspicion and antagonism of the people and the government on the roads, in the airport, in the office sends Changez through an “inflective journey”. He begins to study the position of himself as both a Muslim and as a Pakistani as America wages war against Afghanistan. And Changez views himself as a modern day janissary. “There really could be no doubt: I was a modern day janissary, a servant of the American empire at a time when it was invading a country with a kinship to mine and was perhaps even colluding to ensure that my own country faced the threat of war.” (“Janissaries were Christian boys captured by the Ottomans and trained to be soldiers in a Muslim army, at that time the greatest army in the world. They were ferocious and utterly loyal: they had fought to erase their own civilizations, so they had nothing else to turn to.”)

It is not easy to walk away from a cushy job and a comfortable life and return to Pakistan, a third world country, on the brink of war with India. I will not divulge more. Though I must mention here that the treatment of Changez’s American girlfriend Erica is both sensitive and interesting too.

In a lighter vein: Ah, the Booker Prize once again has us waiting without taking a loo break. Cant afford to dash in there in case we miss their silly announcements. Remember in 1997 the prize winning author went to the loo to relieve herself at the precise moment when the prize was announced. How do I know that you would ask? Well Silly, the author coolly revealed that on NDTV and poor Prannoy blushed to the roots of his…….

While in some years it is The Man Booker prize decisions itself that are made in the confines of the crappy loos. Take for instance last year when the prize went to the Inheritance of Loss By Kiran Desai. The big judge had perhaps taken it to flush it down the pot but seduced by the large Indian market had quietly come out and given away the prize to the goody Little Miss Muffet.

Little Miss Kiran Desai has nothing to say and says that becomingly well. And it was for that pertinent reason she was bestowed the prize. It just underlines the fact that everything is governed by the market forces and that SEDUCTIVE WHORE called MONEY. Compulsions are that the prize has to go the Indian way once in a while: even if the book is trash: the Indian market is obscenely too large to deny us the grand prize.

I have not attempted here a full fledged review of the Reluctant Fundamentalist. Just a few random thoughts. The book is worth the Read and our precious time. I hope this year the judges do not make their decisions in the loo and Mohsin Hamid gets the Booker.