Suspicious nannies for writers in FB

Picture credit: www.kevingreenstein.com

Despite the Indian Government’s interference in the privacy of individuals, on the Netzone, fakes, thugs and possible terrorist continue to thrive.

“Currently two government spy agencies — the Intelligence Bureau (IB), and the Research and Analysis Wing (RAW) — plus seven others, including the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI), the Narcotics Control Bureau, DRI, National Intelligence Agency, CBDT (tax authority), Military Intelligence of Assam and JK and Home Ministry — are authorised to intercept and monitor citizens’ calls and emails, under the guidelines laid down by the Supreme Court, The Indian Telegraph Act 1985, Rule 419(A) and other related legislation. (The Hindu, June 21, 2013, India’s surveillance project may be as lethal as PRISM by Shalini Singh. See Link below)

We are all disappointed by this. Our privacy is completely at stake. In fact, we have none. As citizens of India, we are appalled at what we have just read, but as Netzens we are facing another threat, of being exploited for deceitful purposes.

Take for instance, a recent happening when two authors wanting to go that extra mile, sought the services of an editor, found on Facebook. Apparently, the person professed that their skill at editing was good, because they had already been doing it for a while. Besides, they also had self-published books to their credit.

The Invoice sent to from a gmail account was not on a Company letterhead. It did not have an address but did have mobile number. There was no cause for worry it seemed although bills were asked to be made in Company letterheads, for payments to be received. These requests were not fulfilled.

Indeed, it became a matter of high probability that there is actually a ruckus going on, on FB. With all and everyone joining the band wagon as wannable authors, there is good money to be made by independent editors floating around in Social Media.

The modus oparandi , is very simple. For the uninitiated it gives out the stench a bit late though, which is exactly the reason for this post.

Imagine: Someone writes to you and says you have a great book; it’s bold and path-breaking. You respond with a quick thank you! But only if the editing was done better, the stories would have been more powerful comes the quick reply.  You hurry to say, you had too many rejection letters; the manuscript had been lying in your computer for more than 6 years; you needed to allow the book to see the light of day! And of course, you would take more care this time.

You realise that in a sunrise industry, like Publishing in India, editors don’t come cheap. With Indian authors writing in English, Literary Agents have mushroomed like never before. Everyone wants a piece of the pie, so why not your editor too?

After all, as much as they are greedy, so are you. You too want to become an author; a God out there! And they have what it takes to make you one. They can edit, format, help you upload your book on Kindle Amazon.com and then help you with the Digital campaign to increase the sales of your book. No, it does not matter, that there are spelling mistakes, language errors and really you had to spend two days to undo their mistakes, once the ms was returned to you.

Shell out the bucks and make quick bucks yourself, is the overall message.

The Netzone is for everyone. It takes all kinds to make the Netzone work. Even those who might not measure up to your standards, have a place in this Cloud.

Now that my manuscript is protected with my publisher, Contract signed and delivered, I don’t mind sharing a few lessons I learned myself, the hard way.

If you want to use the services of an editor, before you have sent your manuscript to your publisher, you need to watch these steps:

(a)    First and foremost, definitely prefer to go with someone you know, personally, or is recommended by a friend, whom you know well, not only on Social Media.

(b)   Second, the editor is from my city

(c)    Visit them, meet them and talk to them, not only on phone. FB Friends, LinkedIn, Twitter, it’s virtual, not real friends, so you need to watch out.

(d)   Insist on Invoice made out on Company Letterhead.

(e)   In case the editor is out of city and has sent an Invoice in a personal name, address is a must and the address has to be verified by someone living in that city, where the editor is.

(f)     Insist on bills. Pay only to Company account.

(g)    Pay only by Cheque

(h)   Accept no excuse for delay in your manuscript; they won’t accept delay in your payment either.

(i)      Insist on final payments only after you have received your final manuscript, AND, you are satisfied with their work.

(j)     Preserve all documents related to the interaction between you as an author and the editor. Email, is a legal document.

Hope this helps my friends in India, and the world, all of whom have a story to tell.

We need to watch over our work, before it sees the light of day. The Government is NOT the best nanny in this case, we can depend upon always. Nor is the nanny on FB, in wolves clothing.

Good luck!

Links and references:

The Hindu, June 21, 2013, India’s surveillance project may be as lethal as PRISM  by Shalini Singh
http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/indias-surveillance-project-may-be-as-lethal-as-prism/article4834619.ece

Just read: 8 Gmail Hacks That Will Change The Way You Use Email

http://www.buzzfeed.com/danoshinsky/8-gmail-hacks-that-will-change-the-way-you-use-email
Just released news: FB makes the start of verified pages for celebrities; the rest will follow soon: http://newsroom.fb.com/News/619/Verified-Pages-and-Profiles

The freedom to Be - Pandita Ramabai

Book cover Rewriting History

Over two months have passed since I have held two books in my hand. One, more recently, Against the madness of Manu, Dr B R Ambedkar’s writings on Brahminical Patriarchy, selected and introduced by well known scholar, Dr Sharmila Rege. The other, Dr Uma Chakravarti’s Rewriting history – The life and times of Pandita Ramabai. I have not read two books that make me revert back and forth to each other, so often. Both books are extremely engaging and very scholarly. But, today, I will write of Pandita Ramabai, because, she was blessed with parents who broke the cast, and caste rules, and brought up a daughter who cannot be forgotten to the history of women, who were scholarly and independent, who were able to be free flowing and to invent a word –“un-castable”.

Ramabai’s father, Anant Shastri Dongre, was born a Brahmana and lettered in Sanskrit which was a language that could not be taught to anyone outside the Brahmana caste, nor could it be taught to women. However, Dongre broke the first law by trying to teach his wife, Sanskrit but her family came hammer and tong on him forcing him to abort the effort. Many years later, now a widower, Dongre, married the 9 year old Lakshmibai, (Dongre himself was at that time, 44 years old), and found a keen learner of Sanskrit in her. Under much pressure for his non-conformist behaviour, Dongre preferred to move into the forest and start an ashram, which was managed by the couple. It is here that Pandita Ramabai was born, and her first letters were studied in Sanskrit and of course the sacred books of the Hindus. Having gone out of pocket, the family now began their pilgrimage around places, a pauranikars, that is public narrators of the Puranas. This lifestyle also was accompanied by a life of sannyasa, which means, the family lived on alms provided by the people to whom they taught the Puranas. A life of a wandering minstrel brought Ramabai close to knowledge and renunciation, both, at one and the same time. After many years of travel and starvation, Anant Shastri Dongre, performed jala samadhi, a practice by which he drowned himself to be shortly followed by his grief-stricken wife, Lakshmibai. The children, Srinivas and Ramabai, survived, even as the eldest sister passed away and in 1878, arrived in Calcutta.

For the intellectual imaginative cream in Calcutta, Ramabai, unmarried and knowledgeable became the symbol of the return of Maitreye and Gargi, who followed their husband Yagnavalkya, to the forest to seek Knowledge, leaving all possessions behind. On the behest of Keshav Chandra Sen, who founded the Brahmo Samaj in Bengal, Ramabai, began to study the Vedas, which were gifted to her by Sen. The Vedas, Upanishads and the Vedanta, and the Brahma Sutras were texts which were not allowed to be read by women, even if they were Brahmanas, which she was.

“IX.18. Women have no right to study the Vedas. That is why their Sabskars (rites) are performed without Veda Mantras. Women have no knowledge of religion because they have no right to know the Vedas. The uttering of the Veda mantras is useful for removing sin. As women cannot utter the Veda mantras they are as untruth is”. (Quotation from Manu, Against the madness of Manu, selected and introduced by Sharmila Rege, p.121)

Indeed, the reading of these texts caused much dissatisfaction in Ramabai, because it became clear that the status of women and low caste men, were seen very poorly. Her engagement with Bengal’s intellectuals about uplifting women became a focus. The Hindu religious texts were an eye-opener for her. She saw the dominance of Brahmana patriarchy through them. It is at this juncture that she met with another tragedy in her life, that being the death of her only surviving sibling, Srinivas, to an illness. Alone, in the world, she accepted the marriage proposal from her brother’s friend, from Sylhet, now in Bangladesh. Bipin Bihari Medhavi, was a sudra, and her marriage with him in the Civil Court, proved another slap on the face of Brahamanical tradition, of endogamy and marriage by performing religious rites. In her own words, “Having lost faith in the religion of my ancestors, I married a Bengali man of shudra caste” (Rewriting History, The life and times of Pandita Ramabai, by Uma Chakravarti, p. 310) The marriage lasted for only 3 – 4 years and Ramabai was left a widow, with a daughter to fend for. She returned to her place of origin, this time with child, in 1882, when the reformists in Poona, Maharashtra called her back. But in orthodox Poona, as a widow, engaged with talking of uplifting women in Public discourses, the scorn of the Brahmana community in Poona was not far. Indeed, even the wives of reformers like Justice Ranade wrote with unabashed venom, fearing that, she might now convert to Christianity, far worse than marrying even a sudra.

“We cannot tolerate such sacrilege. What an accursed thing. Her father had turned her into a devotee and wedded her to the heavenly bridegroom Shri Dwarkanath. And yet, this wretch married a Bengali baboo and polluted herself. And did she build a home for herself after all? No fear. She brought utter ruin on everyone connected with her and is now out to pollute the whole world. (Rewriting History, The life and times of Pandita Ramabai, by Uma Chakravarti, p. 313)

It is at this moment, having seen through the Hindu texts and also being completely alone in the world along with her daughter, that Ramabai, began to feel the dire need for a personal God. In Father Goteh, a Chitpavan Brahmana convert himself, Ramabai found an answer, in Christ. Egged on by the involvement of Miss Hurford, a missionary, who introduced her to the Bible in Marathi, she found her peace with Christ, when she converted to Christianity on her visit to England, in 1883, despite the fact that her companion to England, Anandibai, having nearly throttled her, before she herself committed suicide in St Mary’s Home in Wantage, for fear that, the outlandish Ramabai, would yet again do the forbidden, that is to convert to Christianity.

An outcry followed in India, as soon as news came in of the conversion. They damned her as ‘fickle’, ‘peculiarly female’, meaning she was sentimental and not rational, as her scholarly mind should have made her.

Leave that as it may, she was about to encounter patriarchy in the Church as well. In September, 1884, Ramabai joined the Women’s College, Cheltenham, as a student and teacher of Marathi language. She was to teach the language to young English boys and women but the Bishop of Lahour and Bombay struck it down causing Ramabai to react sharply. She was not going to accept these racist rules, which forbade her, an Indian woman to teach English boys.

“I have a conscience and a mind of my own. I must myself think and do everything which God has given me the power of doing...I have with great effort freed myself from the yoke of Indian priestly tribe so I am not at present willing to place myself under another similar yoke by accepting everything that comes from the priests as authorised command of the Most High...” (Rewriting History, The life and times of Pandita Ramabai, by Uma Chakravarti, p. 322)

In 1886, Ramabai went to America and stayed there for two years, leaving her daughter Manorama with the sisters at Wantage. In these two years she travelled almost 50,000 kilometres across America, addressing hundreds of meetings, lecturing, writing, speaking, entertaining, thinking and raising funds for an upper caste widow’s home in India, because the plight of the higher caste widow in India was pitiable.

If as Dr B R Ambedkar, in his paper read out first before the anthropology seminar of Dr A A Goldenweiser at Columbia University, New York, on 9 May 1916, concluded in ‘[14] Thus the superposition of endogamy of exogamy means caste.’(Against the madness of Manu, selected and introduced by Sharmila Rege, p.86), [16] The problem of caste, then, ultimately resolves itself into one of repairing the disparity between the marriageable units of the two sexes within it...The husband may die before the wife and create a surplus woman, who must be disposed of, else through intermarriage she will violate the endogamy of the group...Thus, both the surplus woman and the surplus man constitute a menace to the caste if not taken care of;...’ [18] First: burn her on the funeral pyre of her deceased husband...[19] The second remedy is to enforce widowhood on her for the rest of her life.’(Ibid, pp 87 - 88)

This enforced widowhood, was pitiable, both in terms of the fact that the period of this widowhood could be long due to child marriage and the restrictions imposed on the widow, were inhuman. Thus, in March 1889 Pandita Ramabai, inaugurated the first Home for widows of upper caste women, called Sarada Sadan in Bombay, where widows could come to stay instead of remaining back in their families. This Home would be a place where women would be encouraged to have a new understanding of themselves, bringing the joy of new life, unlike the joyless life, widows were expected to lead, by Hindu society dictates.

In the same year she returned to India from America, then she moved to Poona, in 1890, where her work was looked at with much suspicion especially because by now she was seen as a convert, who in D K Karve’s words, “From the orthodox point of view, even the remarriage of widows was not so objectionable as their conversion to Christianity”. In her later years at Mukti Sadan, Kedgaon, the inmates were visited by a Pentecostal preacher and for a period began to ‘speak in tongues’ as if experiencing an ‘awakening’. This however was short lived and the girls trained in many crafts and lettered too, went back to singing Marathi kirtanas composed by the Christian poet Waman Narayan Tilak and printing the Bible in Marathi.

Ramabai died in 1922, suffering yet one more loss in her life, that of the death of her only daughter, Manorama. By now she was entirely deaf. But had changed the plight of widows in India and fought for equal rights for them. Indeed, the best obituary was from D.K. Karve, who had married one of the first widow inmates of Sarada Sadan.

For history to obliterate her name or to put her in the backburner would be equally participated by Hindus and Christians alike, for Pandita Ramabai, followed her heart and proceeded to a life free of both patriarchies, whether born and bred in the Hindu texts or in the Christian Church. In a way, she Indianised Christianity for the benefit of Indian women and widows in particular, in another way, she westernised the Hindu scriptures and societal dictates for the same group of women. And in that she stood on her own stead.

It would be impossible for women to do the same however, and notwithstanding what patriarchies in any domain do to erase or forget by omission, Pandita Ramabai, as women, we will not commit a heinous crime, like sati, or a forced widowhood, from the clutches of which she worked tireless towards and succeeded to make the difference. 

(c) Julia Dutta June 16, 2013

To buy:

Rewriting History – The life and times of Pandita Ramabai by Uma Chakravarti
http://www.dialabook.in/books/rewriting-history:-the-life-and-times-of-pandita-ramabai_1_18944.html

Against The madness of Manu by Sharmila Rege

http://www.bookadda.com/books/against-madness-manu-sharmila-rege-818905953x-9788189059538

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Bhoolbhuliaya baba, tujhe laakh salaam!

Nestled behind the Qutab Minar, within walking distance from Mehrauli DTC Bus Stand, is the Dargah of the 13th century, Sufi saint, Khwaja Qutbuddin Bakhtiar Kaki. This is the venue for the annual Phoolwalon-ki-sair Festival.

Khwaja Qutbuddin Bakhtir Kaki, said to be in the same line of Sufi Saints from Ajmer Sherif, lies quietly in the dargah. People say about him, “You, love silence”, the “you” meaning to refer to the Sufi Saint.

The road, to the Dargah is lined with vendors and food stalls. And people, quintessential as they come. Unlike both Ajmer and the Dargah at Nizamuddin, in Delhi, the Dargah of Qutbuddin Bakhtiar is quiet and not hounded by too many people, although, many from India and abroad visit him regularly.  

Women are not allowed inside the dargah and must be satisfied to pray through the exquisitely carved in marble, windows, which allow the women to see the dargah, without being visible to the men from inside. So yours truly too, joined the women and prayed holding the marble veiled window.

 The dargah complex houses graves of later Mughal emperors, Bahadur Shah I, Shah Alam II, and Akbar II, in an adjacent marble enclosure. To the left of the dargah, lies Moti Masjid, a small mosque, built for private prayer by the son of Aurangzeb, Bahadur Shah I.

The Slave Dynasty ruler of the Delhi Sultanate, Balban's tomb was constructed here in the 13th century. It is architecturally important structure as it is the first true arch in Indo-Islamic architecture. Another tomb, that of Balban's son, Khan Shahid, who died before he could be crowned, is also located nearby in Mehrauli Archeological Park.

A baoli or stepwell known as Rajon Ki Baoli was constructed in 1506 during Sikandar Lodhi's reign. It was used to store water though it is now completely dried and is now known as Sukhi Baoli (dry well).

The Jamali Kamali mosque was built in 1528,in honour of the Sufi saint Shaikh Hamid bin Fazlullah, also known as Dervish Shaikh Jamali Kamboh Dihlawi or Jalal Khan. The saint's tomb built in 1536 upon his death is adjacent to the mosque.

The Adham Khan's Tomb was constructed by Emperor Akbar in memory of his foster brother and general Adham Khan in 1566. The tomb, also known as Bhulbhulaiyan, as one could get lost in the labyrinth of its passages, it was later used by the British as a residence, rest house and even as a police station. Close to Adham Khan's tomb, lies that of another Mughal General, Muhammad Quli Khan,later it served as the residence of Sir Thomas Metcalfe, Governor-General’s Agent at the Mughal court. The Mehrauli Archaeological Park spread over 200 acre, adjacent to Qutb Minar site was redeveloped in 1997.

Much of the matter you have read above is thanks to Wikipedia. What is not possible to capture in words is the experience of the dargah as well as the old world feeling that go with this dargah.

My effort has been to capture that for my readers. Enjoy!

See more: https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/118112130944380341626/albums/5882511926650687057

Rituparno Ghosh: Shaking you out of your comfort zone

Miss not the quiet by lanes of Kolkata, for oft they conceal great minds; although, if you ask, even the paan-bidi wala, he will lead you to their home. Nor must your eyes overlook the aesthetically done with beautiful antique furniture and large paintings, dimly lit dark rooms, whose walls tell stories, no less than half a century old.  In one such home, resides, India’s pride, the brilliant film maker, Rituparno Ghosh.  His name and work go far beyond the domain of the ordinary to reach out to the sky, where freedom of expression weds the colours and hues of human relationships, in its diverse alternate shades.

Engaged with presenting human relationships from two points, loneliness and companionship, finding a friend in unlikely places, indeed, all of Rituparno Ghosh’s films talk recurring same subject and bring the viewer to address realities they do not acknowledge consciously. Questioning the institution of marriage, it’s happily ever after cover which hide deeper schism between couple, the film maker’s representation of the urban middle class families is unprecedented on Bengali screen.

“I was the first at least in Bengali films to deal with the urban middle class home in a manner that some poignant truths of their lives came out which have not been spoken of before. For the first time the audience was watching things that had remained buried within them; in fact, there was a denial of this truth. So in a way it was some kind of getting into the unchartered waters, at the same time dealing with loneliness and companionship and questioning the whole notion of the two.”

In Dahan, the first film that talked about marital rape, or the National Film Award winner, Unishe April (19^th April) depicting the stressed relationship between a divorced couple, and the strained mother-daughter relationship, Utsab, which show complex set of problems in a family who have gathered for the annual Durgapujo, or Shubho Muhurat,  showing parallel relationships running from past to present, a sleuth and a victim find companionship in each other, even as a medley of human emotions, compassion and empathy come to the fore and leave the audience with much food for thought, there is no right and wrong, no judgment made at any time. This reflects Rituparno Ghosh’s own aspiration as non-judgmental. His films, in Hindi, English and Bengali, are his voice to artistically reach that destination.

When asked whether he thinks a committed live-in relationship is better than a marriage, he is wise.

“I don’t condemn marriage nor is it something I am immediately elated about; it is how you want to conduct yourself, and we can’t preempt our behavior at any stage. Marriage is not about two individuals; it is two families. When you are staying together there are certain odds you are facing. Are you staying together just to challenge the institution of marriage, or are you really living together happily? Quite often, just because, we have chosen to live together over marriage, there is an extra effort to prove that we are happy, which may be artificial at times. In the face of being marginalized for living lives that do not conform to society, it is entirely upon our fortitude and patience, our  ability to complement each other that make the relationship last.”

Rituparno Ghosh (49) is blessed with fingers that give away his parents’ profession as artists. These long, perfectly manicured hands learned their first lessons in film making with his father, who made low budget documentary films, converting the family’s dining table into his editing table! Further, his love of cinema took a serious turn when at 12, in 1975, Doordarshan Kolkata started airing Hindi and Bengali cinema on Sunday evenings. ‘It was then only a matter of scale,’ he says when armed with the technique of making films and ten years in advertising experience, the final push came while shooting a documentary, Vande Mataram with Shabana Azmi. She suggested that he take up making films for the larger screen. Hirer Angti, a children’s film, was his first.  He was young and hungry for fame and recognition. With Unishe April, his second, he rose to become one of India’s best known film-writer and Directors.  From 1994 to 2010, almost year on year, Rituparno Ghosh won Awards at the national and international level.

With his latest film, Chitrangada (A), released in Kolkata, in August, 2012, now available across India, on DVD, from 11^th February, 2013, Rituparno Ghosh has ventured upon a yet again widely discussed subject of same sex relationships and the Sex Reassignment Surgery (SRS).

“After Article 377, it has actually given visibility to homosexuality and there is a clear line drawn in the minds of people between homosexuality and heterosexuality. What lies with the entire gender matrix of various kinds of sexual desires had not been discussed before on screen. Chitrangada wanted to talk about the liminality of one’s desire to belong to a particular sexuality and the entire debate of gender and sex and the need to have an altered body, which everyone can wish to have. We are all working toward sculpting our own gender identity; women alter their bodies at Beauty Parlours, men get six packs. No transformation is actually over, it is a process; it is fluid.”

Clearly, Rituparno Ghosh’s mind is larger than life. The world will confer, in life and on the silver screen. 

This article by Julia Dutta was first published in Atelier India, March 2013 Issue of  the magazine. If you are not in India, write to: Creative Nest Media Pvt. Ltd, M-66, Punj House, Outer Circle, Connaught Place, New Delhi - 110 001 Email:info@creativenestmedia.comAdd caption

Madhulika Liddle: Engraved in Stone

You might have looked hard at the Jaipur Book Festival for her, or even expected her to be seen at book readings in Delhi, but she is best found in Wikipedia prominently figuring as the author who created  the 17^th century, detective Muzaffar Jang, placed historically in the Mughal period in India. With her debut novel in The Englishman’s Cameo, Madhulika Liddle secured her place in the history of the literary world of Indian authors writing in English, to give India its first detective placed in a period.

Liddle (40) began writing when she was 6 years old!

 “My mother used to subscribe to Femina and I thought it was the perfect magazine, a story here, a recipe there, some fashion and so I emulated it and had my own Madhu’s Magazine, which had a story, a grotty recipe, some drawings, it had a bit of fashion with little swashes of material hanging out...!”

The journey with words had begun but it was much later, in her late twenties that Liddle began to look at writing more seriously.

Into her third book featuring Muzaffar Jang, the latest being Engraved in Stone, Liddle’s books sell even before the launch. The sheer romance of a period equals the love and addiction people have developed for her main character. The language is excellent and the plot so engaging that the reader is kept hooked till the end.

Madhulika Liddle studied Hotel Management. But it was her historian older sister who became her source of inspiration for writing in the Maurya period. Besides, when her brother-in-law, passionate about historical detective novels brought into the family, trunk loads of novels, Madhulika Liddle got hooked. It is then she decided that she was going to create one herself.

“When I read these books I found that in almost every period of history there is a detective - there is a medieval Chinese detective, a Welsh monk, an Egyptian eunuch and I thought why not one from India? If there has to be one, then, I must create one.”

And bingo! Muzaffar Jang was born! The enormous amount of literature and research material available on the period helped to write stories placed in the Mughal period.

The creation of a detective placed in a period, is not the only first that has graced Liddle. The first prize at Femina’s thriller contest with her story, Silent Fear, now a part of her latest humour short story collection, My Lawfully Wedded Husband was followed by a first at The Commonwealth Broadcasting Association, with The Morning Swim; again a first at Sulekha.com, Crossing Paths. A Suitor for Saraswati was the second runner-up in The India Smiles Contest. Also, in Zubaan  21 Under 40 short stories collection All this added a philip to her confidence and she realised that she could write stories that people liked to read.

Madhulika Liddle  is a prolific writer and has four published books, a few short stories, and plans to create a series of books placed in Delhi between the period of 11^th CE and 1947.when India got its independence.  She wishes to carry on her Muzaffer Jang stories, the first of which, The Englishman’s Cameo, was also published in French by Editions Philippe Picquier, as Le Camée Anglais. Indeed, Muzaffar Jang is an extension of Madhulika Liddle, with his love of books, birds and curiosity. But he may begin to sulk soon as his creator aspires to publish another series of detective novels with a different central character! Madhulika Liddle has her mind full with a number of other books and stories she wishes to write in the near future

“I would like to be known as an author who writes stories in different genre and not only one, including socially relevant stories. The story which won the CBA competition is one such. I am hoping to bring out a collection of stories which showcase this aspect of my writing.”

Liddle follows a strict discipline. She does at least 1000 words a week day. She reads a lot, does not watch Television and writes throughout the day. She also writes frequent on her blog on cinema, before 1970.

She regards her husband, Tarun Bhandari as her greatest support. It was he who stood by her when she decided to leave her job to pursue a career in writing.

“He is the sweetest thing in life,” says Liddle coyly. “Actually I would not have been an author today if not for him. He is my first level editor, and the in-house marketing person for my books.”

Cheers to Tarun for supporting the lady’s success, as India’s first historical detective novelist. Indeed, Madhulika Liddle’s name is engraved in stone for giving birth to Muzaffar Jang, from India. 

The article by Julia Dutta was first published in the March 2013 issue: 

Atelier Diva, write to: Creative Nest Media Pvt. Ltd, M-66, Punj House, Outer Circle, Connaught Place, New Delhi - 110 001 Email: info@creativenestmedia.com

The Skinning Tree by Srikumar Sen

Amit Chaudhuri is wrong when he says, The Skinning Tree, which won The Tibor Jones South Asian Prize for 2012, is ‘About Calcutta in the 40s’. Indeed, the story is placed in that period, but is not the whole story. Further, the book publisher, Picador India uses Chaudhuri’s brief one-liner to market it, by placing the statement at the back of the book. But the content of the book goes way beyond these narrow confines, to make a compelling read.

I am sure everyone who is a sports buff, would have heard of Srikumar Sen? If not, then, both the Award and his book, The Skinning Tree, have placed him firmly on Top of the reader’s mind.

 Written about the historical period in India, mainly Calcutta and Gaddi, The Skinning Tree revives memories of the past, 1940s. It showcases the life of educated, affluent Bengali families, who were closely associated with the British. It tells you about, how, these families needed to keep up with the Jones by ensuring their children went to schools run by the British, although they ensured their own children went to schools, exclusively meant for them. And most importantly, it opens up, perhaps for the first time, the Pandora’s Box, on what went on in these all-boys boarding schools where Indians from affluent backgrounds sent their boys and how they coped with it.

Nine year old Sabby, is sent away to boarding school in Gaddi, because, his parents fear that the Japanese are going to occupy Calcutta. Established Journalists of those times, the wining and dining that keep the couple busy by day and night, are happy their only son, Sabby is at home with his grandmother and joyously going to his Elementary School. Propelled by their fear, though, they decide to send Sabby away to the boarding school, so he is safe. But this measure is ill received by Sabby who hates his new school and dreams his parents will come as promised during the Easter holidays and take him back, from the harshness of school. Run by the Catholic Fathers, they are strict disciplinarians, who do not spare the rod. His heart breaks when a letter arrives from home saying that his parents, caught up with their lives, now that his grandmother has suddenly died too, would not be able to come to see him after all! This undoubtedly dashes his hope of escape the school. Thanatos takes over the young boy as he runs on top of the high wall that shuts off the world outside from the isolated school, from which, if he fell, there would be only death, the final escape from this hell. Caught by his friend, he has been saved from dying but not from the disciplinarian whip, of the Father, who lashes out on him, for breaking the rules.

At this juncture, Eros, takes over Thanatos, and young Sabby makes another escape from the hell within, by giving himself to the new life he is living in boarding school, altering his perception of it and taking it on, whole heartedly. His home in Calcutta and his dear ones are forgotten / replaced by friends in school. The pages of the book become testimony to what is true friendship among boys, put away in boarding schools. He begins to learn and use the language spoken by the boys, quintessentially punctuated with words, only familiar to them. He begins to participate in acts that indicate how the boys at school have learned to cope with the administration - the rigorous, often, violent disciplinarian actions, teach them to release the anger and violence received from the authorities by giving it back in equal measure, if not more, to things, persons, animals, birds and bees, anything that is vulnerable and cannot retaliate back. Killing and skinning snakes, squirrels and birds, only to dump the dead on The Skinning Tree, which becomes the emblem of destruction. The helpless tree standing just outside the boundary wall, bares the pain and the strife, the misery and the misplaced hatred, from the boys. Finally, though, one day, as if in connivance with young Sabby, she changes her stance from a silent victim to retaliate, by giving way when moments after, Sabby fearing  strict disciplinary action for breaking rules, fails to heed a plea for help, and the skinning tree unable to bear the burden of giving support, gives way.  Consequently, a lesson from life is doled out to a figure of authority - what goes round, comes around. Violence is met with violence, alright!

The book is autobiographical and bears testimony to an act that remained to trouble the psyche of the writer and while putting the book down, the reader hopes that, by writing it, the guilt so long held close in the crevices of the mind, or the remorse, might have found its peace. Although, it is quite possible to see that Sabby could not have been blamed for his last minute refusal to help, for had he cared to listen to his heart, that evening, the dreadful whip would not have spared him at all.

Throughout the book, the reader is witness to the struggle of life and death, of Eros and Thanatos, at many levels, with many people, but no matter what, victory is always Eros’.

Although it is death that has the proverbial, last laugh.

My observation, not only related with this book, but of late being discussed in many circles, is, it appears to be that most debut novels are autobiographical in nature. So, in a way, the audience is made to read books that are essentially a confession. This is both an advantage as well as a disadvantage. At one level, the author has decided to take pains to externalize events in their lives to make a compelling read for an audience out there. On the other hand, it is quite something to be able to lay one’s life in the hands of readers to be constantly analyzed, critiqued or applauded for.

The life within is like a mirror, which one can hold to see one’s own reflection. At the same time, it is also like a shadow, one can never really get away from, and which stays with the author, like a devoted partner. And if that is shared with many, it is for the reader to judge, what h/she wants to take, or wants to leave out.

I prefer a story that shows me, survival, at its best. The power of the human mind to transform an adversity to an opportunity is for me the most profound moment in a human life. The poignancy of each word that make it the story, well written, is life changing and unforgettable. The Skinning Tree certainly deserved the Tibor Jones South Asia Prize for 2012, and to become a part of your personal library.

Tibor Jones South Asia Prize 2012

Publisher: Picador India
Author: Srikumar Sen
Price: Rs 499
Hardcover, 222 pages
ISBN139789382616009

Altered body; altered mind

 

Psychologists have said that parallel thinking is perhaps the most lasting therapy for survivors of abuse. What this means is that, in order to overcome the trauma of abuse and look at one’s self in a new light, it is best to reconstruct one’s identity, change the way one looks and behaves, indeed, change the ideas in the mind and get into a brand new body of thoughts which finally affect the person, inwardly, and outwardly. Thus, the guilt and shame carried in the mind of the abused, which were in any case, the burden carried forward from the mind of the abuser, is laid to rest in the back burner. And the survivor of abuse lives happily ever after.

Or so it seems.

In another instance, especially in India, one can see hoards of men and women who leave their homes to join a spiritual path, leaving behind their families, cities, village or whatever, to start a life of penance with the hope of ultimate salvation and breaking the cycle of birth and death. The mendicant leaves behind and never revisits his/her home, village, or even talks about the past. Ask a sadhu, about the past, the answer is met with silence.

Here is another instance of putting aside an ‘inheritance’ by birth, to alter the past and accept a new mind and body, shaven of hair and over indulgence of the body, by care, to focus on altering the mind with severe and austere spiritual practice. Whether the goal is met, is only known to the person itself, but having once spoken to a Naga sadhu long ago, it seems it is.

“Where do you come from? Where are your parents?” I had asked, green behind my ear, for I learned later that, that is not a question one ever asks a sadhu.

“I am from a village in Bengal,” he volunteered kindly, ‘but, neither I remember my parents and they too may have forgotten me, for it was so long ago, when I was a boy, I ran away from home.’

His altered body, with jata, his scanty clothing exposing a chocolate dark athletic body, tanned by the sun, was not the body he had earlier I am sure. But, I do remember, wondering about his obsession with the chillum he smoked almost at half an hour to forty five minutes causing me to believe, that it served two purposes, one, to forget his past, or manage the guilt, if any, for suddenly disappearing from home, and of course, as a Shiva bhakth, a life lived in imitation in pursuance of his goal, single minded concentration and focus, which is the end of all spiritual practice.

In my recent conversation with renowned film director Rituparno Ghosh (see Atelier India, March 2013 issue), talking of his latest film, Chitrangada he believes that the alteration of the body, is a constant, otherwise, Beauty Parlours would not exist.

“We are all working toward sculpting our own gender identity; women alter their bodies at Beauty Parlours, men get six packs. No transformation is actually over, it is a process; it is fluid.”

The question therefore is: does an altered body, mean an altered mind? Does the external change of the body induce an inward change of the mind? Can one really change one’s identity and settle for a new, or induce one to become a reality, so that one can believe that this new identity is the new self? Going back to what psychologists say, parallel therapy has met with success, is it possible to be and live an altered self?

The recent release of the book by Dr Kanchana Natarajan, (see http://juliadutta.blogspot.in/2013/03/book-release-transgressing-boundaries.html ) brings to light, for the first time in English, the life of a woman saint, in 17^th Century, Tamil Nadu, India, the fact that it is possible to leave one’s painful, Brahminical widowhood, to pursue the path of salvation. Would she ever face the same question I am posing today, does an altered body make for an altered mind?

Does not the past lie in waiting, in the subconscious mind, waiting to raise its head at any given moment? If not, then why the tautness of the body, which speaks for itself, hiding its struggle to release itself from the demons of the past?

Would sitting silently, doing nothing, but allowing the thoughts to rise and pass, developing the habit of not holding on to those thoughts, or allowing them to take hold of one’s mind, not silence the thoughts in time, thus, not having to alter bodies, but remaining in the same? Does the mind hold the body or is it vice versa, or both? Is effort really necessary?

Even sitting silently, doing nothing is an effort. But, submitting, resigning to acceptance is not.

What is the answer then? What is the real face of truth – an altered body results in an altered mind? Or an altered state of mind causes the nullification of the body? And everything attached to it, good and bad experiences?

Or as Bertrand Russell once said, no matter, never mind! 

 

                         

Book release: Transgressing Boundaries by Kanchana Natarajan

Transgressing Boundaries: The songs of Shenkottai Avudai Akkal

Shengottai Sri Avudai Akkal, a remarkable eighteenth-century woman saint from Tamil Nadu, was a self-realised advaitin who sang passionately about the spiritual union with the Absolute.

A desolate and stigmatized Brahmin child-widow, she was initiated into Vedanta by the great Master Tiruvisainallur Shridhara Venkatesa Ayyawal. Her songs, a radical elision of the metaphysical sublime and personal devotion, are narrated through existential tropes sourced from daily life, and also offer a powerful critique of the oppressive orthodox socio-religious practices of the period.

Composed in simple, colloquial Tamil, and bringing hope and solace to women in general and widows in particular for almost three centuries, these songs by Avudai Akkal were preserved within the oral tradition by Brahmin women of Tirunellveli District of Tamil Nadu, who sang them on all occasions. The songs were documented in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and have appeared in many Tamil publications. However, they appear in English translation for the first time in this book. Each song is accompanied by annotations and themed essays.

The book, dedicated to all the anonymous widows and other women of Tirunelveli and Madurai districts who sang and still sing Akka’s songs, preserving and sharing a sublime spiritual treasure, has been handled with some excellent editing by Smriti Vorha. The book will be available on bookstores in India, by March end.

To book your copy(s), you may also write to the publishers of the book.

Author: Dr Kanchana Natarajan
Publisher: Zubaan
an imprint of Kali for Women
128 B, Shahpur Jat, 1^st floor
New Delhi 110 049
Email: contact@zubaanbooks.com
Website: www.zubaanbooks.com
Price: INR 695

About the author: Dr Kanchana Natarajan teaches Indian Philosophy at the Department of Philosophy, University of Delhi, India.

Also read: Avidai Akkal, the 18^th Century woman Vedantin saint in Tamil Nadu, short review in 2010

http://juliadutta.blogspot.in/2010/01/avudai-akka-18th-century-woman-vedatin.html

Dil, really jalta hai!

I have never been fond of the renowned singer, Saigal, with his nasal voice which reminded me of a man struggling with his ablutions! More so, after I was told and then heard with my own ears, my dear father’s voice which was just like him.

The man sat with his harmonium in the company of his friends, all playing different musical instruments. The saga started with the musicians first, tuning up and then setting forth with a medley mix of sounds that blended into each other, to make some musical sounds, until my father let out a sound emanating from somewhere deep, which probably was his large intestine and allowed it to find relief in the vocal exhalations, punctuated by a few ups and downs, like the choir singers at the Vatican.

This practice made me ponder on the meaning of deep itself, as to the physiological origin of the word, in a man’s biology. Arising out of this contemplation, came the realization that in so far as anything is concerned, which has to do with my father, my efforts would match his voice, to produce what I termed as the ‘Saigal Effect’. This meant that I would have to let out a similar pained sound out of my gut, or wherever, every time, I dealt with anything to do with him.

Now, I am not exaggerating I can assure you. Most of the people who know me, are aware of the strained relationship between my late father and mother and how there was no taalmil, compatibility between the two which resulted in one writing her own story and the other singing his own song! I stood on the periphery watching the tamasha, circus, as most children do in such cases and decided to take to my mother’s passion, which was words of poetry and story, precisely why I am here now to tell you the story of the latest version of the ‘Saigal Effect’ which  took over my life, only recently.

On my way to visit his place to sell a plot of land, which he so kindly left behind for me, only in his death, I was told at the eleventh hour, that the sale was not going to happen after all, because, the buyer, a man of the soil, who had been working on many other acres of my father’s land, when he was alive, did not have the money ready. But had he not told me, only in the morning and many times over in the last two months that the money was ready? Yes, of course, he had, but who can ever escape the long term adverse results of the ‘Saigal Effect’? Plans must be foiled; the family must do its bit to protect the land from going out to people who were merely labourers on my father’s land; how could they become owners; I who grew up with other pursuits of life must learn the hard way, that the zamindari system, the private ownership of land, is here to stay, as much as the caste system is, and that all efforts to sell the land, will meet with negation. And I must pay with time and money for being challenged enough not to understand that even my inheritance from my father, is necessarily, not mine, but belongs to my paternal house and all or a few male members of the family.

Yes, at these times, the ‘Saigal Effect’ does hit me hard and I know, where the frustrated, constipated sound came from – not from the gut, nor the intestine, nor what one might have held sacred as to cause anal retention, but way, way beyond that. The ‘Saigal Effect’ has its origin in a lost battle with sense and sensibility, fought by me and my mother, our whole life, with our counterpart, that being my father and his family.

Dil, really jalta hai! The heart really burns!  

Feedback from an author about my book

Available on Amazon.com

RA: Hi Julia, I'm reading "Until Death Do Us Part". What a wonderful, bold collection! You should seek out more reviews for your book. It deserves more visibility.

Julia Dutta: Thank you! Be the first to review, especially if you can put it up on Amazon itself. It counts there. You know, I do my job; it is for others to review/talk about it etc. But even a note from you, fulfills the purpose of writing. The book has touched one heart. I believe it has many. My job is over.

RA: Amazon's been discouraging reviews by fellow authors, which is why you should seek out other book reviewers. They've taken down quite a few of these even for me.

Julia Dutta: I know that they have been refusing to allow those who downloaded the book in the Kindle Free Download Offer to comment. The book will find its destiny, as they always do. Somehow, I feel very strange about promoting my own work. Finally, I am advertising professional - have you seen people in that profession scream and shout about their campaigns? I am grateful for your suggestions. I do take them very seriously and tweet about them.

RA: Even mainstream authors are required to promote their own books now, and you and I are self-published. I promote my book by offering it to book bloggers who blog in my genre. Have you ever seen me tout my book on any groups? I hate in-your-face marketing, as well.

One thing I would recommend for your book is the hiring of a professional editor next time before you send your work to a publisher. The book is very well written, though.

Also, the readership for your book will be necessarily limited because the shades of lesbianism will make people uncomfortable. I see you have not listed a category for your book. Want to try gay and lesbian literature/romance to see if you can find more readers/reviewers?

Julia Dutta: Thank you so much for your engagement with my book. The book has been published by Xynobooks LLC, USA. I have not self published. Regarding the editing, I agree with you totally; next time I will send in the text for professional editing before I send it to a publication. What I have found in this one is, like all good Editors, the publisher/Editor interferes very little with the manuscript and they do not add much to the text. So on my next one, I have been careful, done a lot of work myself. I can suggest to my publisher to add, Lesbian, gay, CSA etc. As you can see the Publishers have targeted Women as a category, to market to. "Stories of women from India" they said. Some of the stories are as old as 1985! Others are as new as 2011.

I am part of LinkedIn writers group and everyone there seems to have Self-Published and they do market their books very well. My publisher has said that the comment on Amazon is BEST and also talking about it on Twitter, as the book is naturally targeted to reach the hungry for India stories, NRI possessing Kindle, iPad, Tablet etc. In India, it is yet a far cry, the Kindle I mean.

RA: Btw, The formatting could have been better. The text being centered in my Kindle, is very hard to read. I format books, so I know this can be done better. People often will not read a book if the formatting is bad.

Julia Dutta: Do you mind if I told my publishers about the formatting? Perhaps they need feedback too to improve on their software too! Thanks a ton for talking to me.

Cheers!

An eye for an eye

On the 11^th February, 2013, as I stepped out of the train at 12.30 pm, I received a call from someone living in a village in West Bengal. She was in a state of panic. “Mita (name changed) has just got murdered by her nephew, at 12.15!”

At first, the words did not sink in. But once on the way to my Office, I called back again and listened to the events that lead up to the murder. The nephew, just married a year ago, was living in Mita’s house with his widowed mother, when recently, the family was asked to leave the house, because, Mita wanted to sell the house. Having risen from abject poverty, Mita, had made a living for herself, which fetched her enough money to own two small houses, one in her village and the other in Pune, Maharashtra.She also had a comfortable income and had become a celebrity in her village, because of the power of her pocket. People in her family vied with each other, to be named the nominee of her wealth. I suspect, no less, this nephew may too have nursed the same greed in his heart.

On the fateful day, Mita had returned from two days away from her house in the village and was countered by her nephew, as she entered her house. A spurt of violence ensued between the two and at 12.15, that afternoon, he picked up the vegetable cutter called ‘bothi daa’ and struck her neck with it, causing her to die instantaneously. Suddenly realizing what he had done, he hid inside the house, till the rest of the neighbours broke open the door and pulling him out, beat him to death, with their bare hands. In a span of one hour, two killings had taken place; the police were called in only later.

Mita was an exceptionally bright woman. In ’73, she came to stay with us, to look after me, when I came to Bombay, to stay with my maternal aunt. We were very close to each other, quite naturally. She learned her letters while staying with us and later went to Hong Kong, and earned herself a lot of money. In her early teens, she had been married to a transvestite, who tortured her and forced her to leave himher. She later took diksha from Asaram Bapu and lived in Pune, in her own flat. In all, she spoke 5 languages, English, Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati and her native tongue, Bengali. She taught herself to read the Gita, the Hindu religious book; she read English minimally and wrote it for Banking purposes. She was an enthusiastic learner and it was a joy to teach her.

Ashis Nandy, in his chat with Moushumi Bhowmik and Sukanta Majumdar (The Hindu, Saturday, February 16, 2013, The archive of separation) says, referring to the Delhi gang-rape, “I don’t see anything as disjunctive but as part of a continuity. Murders, the gang rape, the protests, all are part of a continuity. To me those youth at the India Gate shouting for death sentence for the rapist, suggesting death by torture, there is continuity. There is violence in the air in India, even those who were protesting displayed the culture of violence.”

A few years ago, Prof Amartya Sen, called Kolkata the safest city in India, based on a study of Government generated crime report, which showed that Kolkata seemed to have the least crime. Needless to say, as we all know, most crimes against women go unreported and hence, the above statement does not hold water. Furthermore, in cases like the one cited about Mita and her nephew, which is not a case in isolation, what are we supposed to believe?

Does violence exist as an integral part of our society? Can we take the law into our hands? Does, an eye for an eye, serve a purpose, without the intervention of law enforcing agencies? After all, if the Government’s machinery is slow to act, or indecisive, then can we say that acts of violence may best be met with violence, tatastu, here now?

The dreadful news has still not sunk in. I regret that there is futility in the conversation, except for only reasoning purpose.

And for coming to terms with the fact that Mita is no more. Does it really matter how she died?

Read also:

Violence Against Women in India: Three Things to Know

http://www.cfr.org/india/violence-against-women-india-three-things-know/p29784

Mission Junoon: Sanjna Kapoor talks of her latest passion

She is what dreams are made of: beautiful looks, elegant, mysterious with a mind that has inherited the best of both worlds, where east meets west and blends perfectly, creativity flows from theatre and cinema, and a vibrant intellect pursues what only passion, perseverance, imagination, rigor and discipline can achieve. Yes, her name is Sanjna Kapoor, India’s most loved diva of the world of theatre.

Recently, her resignation as Director of the very elite and intellectual Prithvi Theatre in Mumbai, caused a flutter in the industry, but as she says, she needed to move on to do something more, to add more fuel to her already existing passion, to impact the environment in more ways and to begin her own trist with destiny, Junoon Theatre. For more than 22 years she had carried the challenge of Prithvi Theatre, started by her parents, Shashi Kapoor and Jennifer Kendal. It was both her passion and her learning grounds. When she put the sceptre down, she felt it needed other eminent people to carry the work forward, while she took the experience of Prithvi Theatre, to hoards of Indians out there that wanted and dreamed of making theatre an integral part of their daily lives, as natural as taking a walk in the park.

Contemporary theatre, which is all of 200 years, exists mainly in urban and semi-urban areas. Inaugurated on February 29, 2012, Junoon Theatre, with a core team of four, wants to break that trend. It desires to create multiple platforms of creativity by using the large network of people in the field and make theatre accessible, welcome and engaging to a wider mass of youth, children and adults across India, through workshops, Plays, interaction, discussion and going beyond that space. Like what exists in many countries abroad, Junoon Theatre hopes to increase the total theatre ‘experience’ from booking to finale, and raise it to another level, never experienced in India before. It envisages involvement of masses by building capacity, through its network, so that the experience becomes a social movement, a junoon, as it were. She dreams of an India, where theatre is woven into the very fabric of society in a manner that it becomes a way of life.

This creative unrest to affect the total experience of theatre has its root in her grandfather, the late Geoffrey Kendal, whose Shakespeareana Company brought the bard, William Shakespeare to Indian schools, who had never heard of him before. For thirty years, the extraordinary theatre personality along with his wife Laura and daughters, Filicity Kendal, and Sanjna’s own mother, Jennifer Kendal, toured the country taking Shakespeare to schools, public halls, places of maharajas and every nook and corner of the country. It can be said quite accurately, that Junoon Theatre is not only a transition as Sanjna calls it from Prithvi Theatre, but an urgent compulsion of her genealogy to spread the fire of imagination across the country, widely.  

Sanjna Kappor, the theatre and film personality is an able administrator; she may have the fire of her grandfather and the history of Indian cinema in her DNA, but she is careful, diligent, patient, slow, but sure. Her footsteps are small and gradual, and while she has big dreams for Junoon Theatre, she is careful not to go, so fast that she can trip on her own ghagra skirt. Through the India Theatre Forum, of which she is a founding member along with six others from the same field, she undertakes, legal, copyright issues, food and nutrition, insurance, Policy decisions affecting theatre personalities.  

Going out to the theatre has become as lucrative as going for a movie, because nothing comes close to a stage performance, for both audience and dramatist - so intimate, so engaging and responsive, such a fulfilling experience is live performance. As buying power of the people increases, Universities, parents, children are looking seriously at making a profession of Management in Arts and Theatre.

Finance is always a concern though. Sanjna is working on a Sustainable Economic Model, which will cater to premium pricing, and go to make the 25% reserved for the masses, possible. While there will be ongoing smaller shows and workshops in schools, and Plays, the yearly major event will bring in the best talent from across the globe and India, and tour India in true Shakespeareana Company style.

Sanjna Kapoor admits she has no life outside theatre. Perhaps she means what Sheakespeare had said  - all the world’s a stage – for there is her 10 year old son Hamir, who is the apple of his mother’s eye, presently passionately engaged with Sports cars, a far cry from his mother’s passion for theatre or his father’s passion for tigers! Her husband Valmik Thapar, is a prolific well-known writer and tiger enthusiast, with many books to his credit.

In a way, both Sanjna Kapoor and her husband are engaged with the eco-system around them, the former with the world inside, the power of imagination of the human mind to create, sustain and evolve newer ways of evolving itself, while the latter with the preservation of India’s national animal, the tiger. And their little one is on a fast track, but loves drama and must approve all stories his mother tells the world outside.

Such a cute drama queen!

The article written by Julia Dutta was first published in the January 2013 issue of Atelier  Magazine. To buy  write to: Creative Nest Media Pvt. Ltd, M-66, Punj House, Outer Circle, Connaught Place, New Delhi - 110 001 Email: info@creativenestmedia.com