Rockstar of ragas!

These days a certain Carnatic musician who goes by the name T M Krishna (TMK for short!) has caught my fancy as a subject of study.  And, for good reason too. He is a member of the youth brigade (1976 born, Aquarian) in the Carnatic music world and appears to be on a mission to change the game.

Well, these are not words that you would use when you refer to Carnatic music. Traditions are paramount in the performing arts in India and musicians see themselves as custodians of practices that have been handed over many generations. But to put TMK in the same bracket of musicians would be doing huge injustice to the man for he has sought to retain the traditions while breaking boundaries - real and imaginary - in his own style, but not for a moment diluting the core of our cultural heritage.

First of all, look at the way he dresses. Would you have looked at this picture and thought for a moment that this guy is amongst today's better known and well regarded Carnatic musicians? He looks like any other youngster. But the paati (grandmum) marvels at his talent and sees the divine in him; the maami (aunt) indulges him and wishes that he were her son or at least her son-in-law and the thangai (little sister) would giggle like a silly teenager when thrown in front of him.

This is far removed from the image of Carnatic musicians who sported the trademark white dhoti and kurta and would always be seen in shades of white of the same dress combination. TMK is equally comfortable in his jeans as he is in a dhoti and kurta, it seems. There are pictures of him on the internet sporting colourful kurtas with bright embroidery or zari for embellishments. So, he somehow does not fit the image of a Carnatic musician in my eyes......At a recent concert that I attended, he wore a brown shirt that had white lotuses, in different sizes, printed on them - very Balinese prints. A rasika recently seeing TMK's shirt was prompted to wonder "yenna avar sofa cover thuni vechi sattai techuindurukar" (he has used upholstery material for his shirt!). 

And, then he dons a kadukkan (ear stud). Well, there is nothing novel in it and it has always been a practice for men in TMK's community to wear one. But he has turned the kadukkan to a fashion accessory. They come in different designs on his ear. One fan mentioned recently that he was inspired to pierce his ear and sport a ear stud after seeing TMK with one.

Now look at his face - his beard is here now, it's gone now......and, the newly acquired moustache has a distinct handle bar like look. Recently he has begun wearing spectacles to his concerts. A lady who was sitting next to me at the concert was caught scribbling a brief note to her friend which said "I don't think those glasses have any power, they are merely for style......". Since the time when MS' Kanchivarams were discussed, do you remember a time when an artiste's appearance has been a topic of conversation amongst the Chennai music aficionados? That would have been blasphemy. So, he has managed to stir things up and for good reason too. I am sure that will bring him closer to the younger rasikas.

On another note, I would urge you to listen to TMK sing with your eyes closed or open. I say this because the experience is different and yet the same with your eyes closed or open. If your eyes are closed, you will find yourself transported to a different world - a world that is pure, creative and evocative. If your eyes are open, you cannot miss TMK's mannerisms and idiosyncrasies as he renders beautiful music. He keeps time with both hands (a no-no amongst the traditionalists, I am told), he fiddles a lot, his face is frequently in contortions as he is one with the music that he delivers. But what touches you is the virtuosity and emotion in his singing. That is what gets to you through all the mumbo jumbo.

Another remarkable aspect of this gentleman is that in a concert, he is always commending the performance of his accompanists. He encourages them, jokes with them, takes their inputs when deciding on songs and shares the limelight with them. So, his concerts do not seem like that of a star which outshines the planets that revolve around it. There is a certain wholeness to the presentation in which everyone has a role to play. Individually and collectively the team stands out.

He reaches out to his fans and followers. He is pretty active on Facebook. He takes questions from his fans, advices wannabes, takes a stand, argues vehemently and acknowledges comments. His music reaches thousands of rasikas through webcasts. He has a tastefully designed website. He is technology savvy, it appears, as he relies on numerous gizmos for his concerts. I understand he is particular about the sound system in the halls where he performs. He is known to support several causes and is associated with many social organizations. All these would have been quite unthinkable for musicians of yore and many of them chose to maintain their distance from their fans as they sought to raise their stature by staying aloof.

He is known to be ready for a good fight. Not one to easily suffer insults and ignorance, he takes on the mighty - the sabhas, N Ram and many more. He cajoles his audiences who rise to leave during the thaniavarthanam (solo percussion interludes) to stay, he requests a minute from rasikas who are making a beeline to the exit as he starts the Mangalam (concluding thanking prayer). He is willing to put a fight and not take anything lying down. And, all for a good cause. I believe it is to put classical Carnatic music where is belongs, rightfully - up there, not to be messed around with.

TMK has a reputation. He is supposed to have loved and married a married lady, a fellow performer. He appreciates good single malts, I understand, from an interview of his that I read a few months ago. And, when the new restaurant serving Greek cuisine opened its doors in Chennai, your truly was indeed surprised to see TMK amongst the patrons. These are behaviours and indulgences that do not sit well amongst the so-called traditionalists. Not for moment has any of this rubbed on his reputation of being an erudite and scholarly practitioner of musicology. With him you always feel reassured that this art form is in safe hands.

Disclaimer: I have written the above based on some research, little hearsay and opinions, mostly my own. So, I do not vouch for its entire truth.There is a curiosity about TMK and I have conjured this piece to satisfy that. The pictures for this article have been downloaded from the internet and are not my own.

2011 - Annus Mirabilis!

We ushered in 2011 on the banks of the river Kabini in the Karnataka. Returning from a cousin's wedding in Kerala, we decided to take a short detour to spend New Year's eve at the cosy lodge in the tourist country. Ringing in the New Year with us was an interesting family, originally from Goa, and now spread all over the world. It was a quiet and peaceful beginning to what would be a year to remember!

We stayed over in Bangalore for a couple of days before driving back to Chennai in time for the school reopening. January is at the fag end of the Chennai Season and I was able to catch many of the classical dance shows at the prestigious Music Academy in the city. I spent several days in the Academy auditorium with no client calls to answer or deadlines to meet. Separately, I also caught some matches at the Chennai Open where I witnessed the team work of Lee and Hesh, the power of Somdev and the energy as they all came together. I was savouring my new found freedom from my job of 13 years - mostly glad, partly sad and somewhat nostalgic.

February saw me get a little interested in exploring "what next" in terms of a job. By now I was really in the thick of the "state of unemployedness" which went in tandem with a life that was slow paced. Mistake me not - this state may sometimes be referred to as "drifting" and that can leave you feeling very unsettled! I was also trying to come to terms with not being in a high pressured job and the losses of various kinds that come with it. It made me think about what I wanted from my life and what the many things that we normally take for granted - family, health, security, peace - mean to me. Such soul searching is often called "mid life crisis" for someone my age.

Pilates came to my rescue as I grappled with issues of my weight. Many months later I am amazed at my own ability to twist and turn myself to the instructions of my Yoga teacher. A dear friend recommended a dietician who turned out to be a star as she put me on a regimen that took little away from my plate but added perspective to how I should eat. Having shed 8 kilograms and several inches since then, I think I have found eternal buddies in Pilates and Yoga.

With March came the first signs of my wanting to get back to work and I believed I had found the answers to many of life's questions and dilemmas. With renewed self assurance, I plunged into entrepreneurship hoping that I would be able to call upon my skills and experience as a professional manager to run a company that I could call my own. It was with great pride that I signed the cheque for the capital investment and handed it to my partners as I embarked on the next chapter of my professional and possibly, personal life.

Soon after committing myself as a Partner, it was time for a holiday. After all, it was my company and I could treat myself to holidays as I wished. Believe me, there is nothing further from the truth that believing that you are your own master in the company that you own. And, I say that from experience. Building your own company takes more than double the effort and energies than working for someone else - it is further heightened by your emotional connect with all things associated with the firm that you are a founder of. Some more lessons for me and ones that I will always cherish.

So, off we went to Bali to experience a holiday of a lifetime. With its natural beauty and heart-warming ambience, the place worked like a balm for my soul. Besides visiting the oh-so-touristy places spread around the island, we ate, spa-ed, cycled, walked, rested and generally enjoyed ourselves. As a person from Kerala, I experienced a strange and inexplicable connect with this island and its people. I would never forego an opportunity to go back to the place.

June, July and August were relatively uneventful and the slow paced life was soon becoming a habit. If I said that I was preoccupied with work, I would be lying. I walked to my place of work, came home for lunch, hardly travelled out of town and found time for the many pleasures of life that I discovered or rediscovered. I was back to reading, prompted by friends from college and with two additional eyes that made reading easier. 

We took a sailing boat in September for a trip along the Chennai coastline. The panoramic view of the city from the sea remains etched in my memory. A tree walk later, I was a wee bit more educated about trees in the city. September also was when I managed to watch the entire Kathakali festival organised at Kalakshetra which was a treat.

We were all very excited when a friend of ours declared his intention to stand for the local Councillor's election. Feeling proud and admiring his courage for getting into the election fray, we decided to help him with the campaign. What an eye opener the experience turned out to be.......It got us up, close and personal with democracy and people's power. It is an experience that I will always cherish. That was October for me.

November was a sweet-sad month for me. My mum broke her right wrist bone and my parents moved to our place as she nursed her injury. Although we live in the same city, my parents and us have retained our independent establishments and freedoms. So, this was a welcome change for all of us. We got a peek into the nitty gritties of each other lives and turned a lot more tolerant and understanding of each others' needs. It was a sad day when the Plaster of Paris cast was taken off my mother's hand and my parents decided to return to their home.

December has been unusually cold this year. I am trying my hand at composting household waste. My brothers are in town. The Season is in full swing - music and dance recitals are being staged all over the place. Dhruv's board exams are fast approaching. Another new year is closing in. I am still searching for answers to the questions that I had at the beginning of the year.

As I look back, I am thankful for the wonderful year gone by. There has been so much happiness. Dhruv is close to 6 feet tall and fitter than ever. Marriages have happened to my friends. Many people that I like have had children. I have earned and learned so much. But sadness also coexists.... Sadness that cannot be shared. Sadness that has to be borne alone. When a few whom I loved, have died.....when dreams die.......when there is no hope......when trust wanes........when silence grows....... when actions do not match expectations......
 
But it's the time to look ahead. To a new year.....To a new beginning.....To new dreams.......To new hopes......here's to a wonderful 2012!

Going gaga over garbage!

Now, don't let the title of my post make you think that I am in love with the piles of garbage that is now ubiquitous in the city of Chennai. Ever since the contractor Neel Metal Fanalca (fancy name, eh?) gave the Chennai Corporation a royal ditch, the city has been turned into a large garbage dump. Any visitor to the city cannot miss the mounds of dirty waste that remains uncleared on main roads and narrow streets. In many places the bins have vanished altogether and when they exist, they are merely overflowing with the stuff and they stand pleading helplessness.

I was inspired to compost by my friend, Ambika. She wrote about her experience in her blog and got me excited. I had been reading about composting for a while now did not want to embark on what I thought could be a daunting task. I was introduced to Daily Dump (www.dailydump.org) via Facebook and read about experiences of various folks who had been advised and supported by this organization. Their website is cool and I would urge you to visit it when you want some meaningful fun.

So off I went to collect the equipment (www.dailydump.org/products) for composting from Soumya. For Rs 1300, she gave me a 3 tier composter, a rake (to stir the garbage for aerating it), a bottle of accelerator (a powdery mix of bacteria and fungi that speeds up the composting process), a packet of cocopeat (which helps absorb moisture from the garbage) and a bottle of lemon spray to keep the fruit flies away and make the garbage smell better! I also got an instruction manual (the only one that I have read every word of!). BTW, though based in Bangalore, Daily Dump sells in several cities (www.dailydump.org/where_to_buy) including in Chile and you can even order your Kambha online.

My three tier Kambha!

Lemon spray and the accelerator

Seeing garbage in a new light!

We started dropping the vegetable and fruit waste generated in our kitchen a few days back. We air the garbage frequently, rake it every now and then, add newspaper bits when the moisture seems excessive and give it a dose of the accelerator every week. The design of the Kambha helps in the composting process. Meanwhile, I met Shardha Vamadevan, an architect and fellow parent at my son's school and now a composting evangelist, who has turned my "go-to person" for my composting woes and offers very practical tips to get the composting right. With her enthusiasm, I will not be surprised to see her at my doorstep one of these days, wanting to inspect my composter. While, I wait for my first harvest of compost.

I have started looking at my garbage in a new light. The other day, I saw orange peels ready for the Kambha and hit upon the idea of making marmalade! And, now when I see the piles of garbage strewn all over the city, I am convinced that I do not have to aggravate the situation. Try it, I am sure you will not regret it.

Man vs. machines?

Last week, I had the opportunity to watch a performance of Contemporary Dance. Alliance Francaise had organised a festival of Contemporary Dance, bringing some of the prominent performers from France and India to the Chennai audience.

I know or have seen little of Contemporary Dance. And, having little knowledge or perhaps, interest, I did not attend most of the shows. But curiosity could possibly the only reason for my attending the show choreographed by Dominique Boivin. Wiki informs me that Boivin is a 1952 born artist from France who has moved to New York. He is considered one of the foremost choreographers and performers of Contemporary Dance.

His piece for the evening was titled Transports Exceptionnels. It was an open air show in the car park at Kalakshetra. I was surprised to see a monstrously large excavator at the centre of the car park.

Through the performance, the dancer tries to master the machine. He attempts to show his superiority over it.

 

For a while, the machine plays along and lets the dancer feel big only to finally display its true colours and responds with an aggression that overpowers and humbles the dancer.

 

Then, the dancer goes on to befriend the machine. He caresses it, seeks shelter and comfort in it and embraces it. The machine drops its aggressive demeanour and plays along.

The performance turned out to be a fine conversation between the performer and the excavator, operated very skillfully by another performer. The agility and grace of the dancer were there to be seen but in the process, the excavator too turned out to be a "feeling" machine.

That a choreographer could find inspiration in an excavator was amazing and extraordinary. I guess, that is what contemporary dance is all about - a dialogue with and about the things that one sees around you. And, one is overwhelmed by the machinery that one comes across in today's world.

It was truly, a dancer's choreographic tribute to the man vs machine debate!

If you are interested to see a similar performance done some time ago, you can click http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1eWKBHXr6k&feature=related

Sartorial politics!

The last few days have been interesting for me. I have had a rare chance to view our election process from rather close quarters. And, one aspect that caught my fancy was the fashion statement that politics and politicians make as they espouse their ideology and proclaim their affiliations.

Older men (as in, those over 50) from across party lines are known to wear dhotis or veshtis that sport their party colours. So, the AIADMK folks have a red, white and black border on their dhoti borders. Likewise, the DMK functionary can be identified by the red and black border. The seniority of the person in the party's hierarchy may be guessed from the angavastram (roughly translated as the shawl!) that they sport which again carry the party colours - more prominently than on the dhoti. And, likewise, the many parties in Tamil Nadu have their cadres draped in white dhotis with the party colours adorning the dhoti borders. Never broad borders - just wide enough to show off their affiliation. It is surprising that I have never caught a Congressman in a tricolour bordered dhoti - but then I have seen very few Congressmen on the campaign trail. The younger lot care little about their dress, perhaps believing in actions speaking louder than clothes. My friend, an independent candidate, wore the non descript jeans and a bush shirt on all occasions. But his campaign team sported caps that bore his campaign colours and his party symbol, the road roller.

But what was an eye opener (indeed!) were the sarees. Two leaves, the party symbol of the AIADMK, strung together like a garland, find prominence as the saree borders of the party candidate in one of the constituencies. Glad that the rising sun was not featured on the opposition candidate's six yards! It may have looked ghastly. I did notice a few lady voters dressed in party colours on the voting day, mostly combinations of red, black and white. I wonder if they planned it deliberately to be that way, or a ploy to mislead......The women generally seemed less inclined than men to carry their political affiliations in their dressing style but don't we all know that many of the women candidates are normally mere proxies, candidates only on paper. Though the party symbols included a top and a mango, there was little evidence of these being put to use in their campaign clothing.

Many men also carried pens with a photographs of their party leader on the pen clip, shown off in their shirt pockets. Good way to beat the campaigning embargo that came into effect two days prior to the voting date! I even saw a politico with a ring which had his party colours and a rising sun (also in the same combination!).  And, golden chains with lockets hung from their necks featuring the photograph of their beloved party leaders were hard to miss.

So, there's a lot more to elections than votes and posts. And, election fashion may provide the extra edge!

Humbled, by democracy!

Today is Election Day in Tamil Nadu. Voters across the state will cast their votes to elect their local governments - at the Panchayat, Municipality and Corporation levels. As a citizen of the world's biggest democracy, I learnt a few things about democracy which left me humbled. Here they are:

1) Election Day is a Festival Day: When I walked near a polling booth early this morning, the ambience was that of a festival. There was an air of celebration and a buzz about the process. Voters came well turned out as if dressed for a festival. It was a celebration of our fundamental right, an empowered citizen. It was a festival of no particular religion - Hindus, Muslims, Christians all joined the celebrations. The fact that it was an official holiday lent to the festive atmosphere. Elections are the festivals of democracy. Let's celebrate them!

2) Right to Contest: There are 32 candidates standing for the post of the Mayor of Chennai and there are as many symbols allotted to them to choose from. As a citizen, I can recognise three candidates. But that does not prevent the remaining 29 from trying their hand at being a candidate. Often I have heard the argument that non-serious/ casual candidates vitiate the democratic process. I guess that is democracy's way of dealing with itself - if the candidates are seen as good, their numbers will be taken care automatically. Democracy means I can be the government!

3) Voter Identity: Voters came with their identity cards wrapped carefully. Many guard it more carefully (in plastic covers, in envelops, etc) than themselves. It gives them their identity as citizens of this country. It is a mere piece of laminated paper that gives them unprecedented power - a power that could not be touched or taken away. They know how to safeguard it and protect it. And, as a voter, use it to make a difference!

4) An Exercise Non Pareil: I have often read that conducting elections in India was an exercise involving mammoth logistics. I realised it too soon. The voters were ready for casting their ballots when the booths opened but some of the electronic voting machines (EVMs) developed snags. Soon, in the most efficient fashion, we saw jeeps carrying alternate machines reach the venue of polling and voting get back on track. So, things work in this country when we set our minds to it. And, elections are something no one - politicians, bureaucrats, policemen, citizens - messes around with. Hope their sanctity remains forever!

5) A Great Leveller: Elections do not distinguish the educated from the uneducated, the weak from the strong, the idealist from a pessimist, the haves from the have nots. As they exercise their franchise, all voters are the same. They come to the same voting station, stand in the same queue, follow the same process and live with the same results. Elections don't discriminate......makes us feel one amongst equals!

All these years, I have remained a passive citizen. This election has been different. I can say, it has changed me.......I have been humbled by my experience of our democracy. I realise the real worth of our democracy.

Teachers' Day

September 5 is round the corner and it is time to think about the teachers that left a mark on what you are today......Like everyone else, I had many good teachers and some bad ones. While it was easy to recognise the good ones from a mile away, the bad ones came out as bad many years after they taught me.....

My earliest memories of an excellent teacher are those of Ms Papali. She was the principal in my kindergarten school. I remember that she made me feel special and that was her charm. And, I believe she made every child feel special.....

As I grew, I had the privilege of having Ms Manali for my Class 3 teacher. To me she was some sort of a genius who taught all the subjects very well - English, Maths, Science - and pint sized too......well, they don't make them like her anymore.

Most teachers in my elementary school did little to make me remember them after all these years. No wonder those years remain the bleakest in my memory and I have few fond memories of my days until Class X.

I met the most wonderful teachers during the two years that I spent at Ida Scudder School. Even the worst of the lot were reasonably good. I began to love Mathematics under Ms Sudarsanam's guidance, enjoyed English Literature with Ms Richard and Ms Oomen, mastered Physics under Dr Parameswaran and took a fancy to biology under Mrs Rangam.Each teacher challenged you to test the limits of your own capabilities. They made you love the subject and love learning itself. All that I consider as my foundation from an academic perspective were laid in those two years. Those were the best years of my academic life.

My next stop was Women's Christian College. Well, teachers morphed into lecturers and professors in college. They also began to seem more distant with their students. In these years, you got inducted into the reality that is life. From the idealism of innocent youth, you were introduced to the cynicism of adult life. My three years at college went like a breeze. I remember more of my non academic pursuits than the purely academic ones..... For one, I made great friends and met some very impressive ladies, some who I still admire and many who continue to fascinate me. A few professors like Koshy put some sense into my head, nothing academic though. Mrs Mohan who never taught me, treated me like an adult and I was taught what responsibility was all about. But that was it.....

The professors at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences were the dreariest of the lot. I cannot remember much of what happened in the classrooms. But living in Mumbai was a lesson in itself which no classroom could substitute. And, learn I did.....lots, indeed.

Teaching is considered a noble profession but there are few takers for a career in teaching these days. Though salaries of teachers have grown in the last few years, it is still not good enough to attract the best. I hear that teaching mostly attracts those that could not make it elsewhere - in engineering, in medicine, in management, etc - which are the chosen professions these days. This trend does not augur well for the country.

I have come across many teachers outside of my own academic world. I see the love and affection that my mother in law receives from her young students, I know how teaching energises her and keeps her ticking at her age (she is nearing 80 and still teaches). I see how excited my sister in law is about her job, her students and her school. She has the undiluted respect of her students and it is evident every time we bump into her student in tiny Singapore. My cousins were known as children of the school headmistress for many years in the village that they lived in - their identity derived from their much admired mother. In his small way, my husband who teaches a course at a city management school revels in the attention that he receives from his students.

Recently I came across a gentleman in his early fifties. He lived on a school campus some 150 kms away from Bangalore. He has been a teacher ever since he completed his graduate degree in Engineering from India's premier Indian Institute of Technology, some 35 years ago. He spoke of teaching in a way that I had never heard before. In the time that I spent with him, I felt tempted to become a teacher. And, what stood out about this gentleman was that he did not look a day older than what he did when he first embarked on his teaching career.

Teaching does not give you grey hairs......teaching retains your youth..........teaching keeps you an eternal student.......

Shouldn't those be good reasons to pursue teaching? I think so.......

Madras Week!

This year I was not excited about the Madras Week celebrations. Well, I cannot claim to have been super excited about the celebrations in all the past few years that the city has celebrated its birthday......I am definitely proud of the long history of the city and even prouder of the zealous citizens that celebrate the city.

However, this year was different......I was indifferent to the announcements about the Madras Week programmes. My mind was distracted by all that I did not want my city to be but has become...... How could I celebrate the city which did not stay true to the image that I had of it? Let me tell you what bothers me so much about the city these days......

1) Mounds of garbage: Every street, especially in the locality that I live in, is a street of garbage. The garbage bins are overflowing. The space around the bins are full of waste. And, in most cases, garbage encroaches on the roads, leaving little space for vehicles and pedestrians. Garbage has not been cleared from the streets for many days now. I sometimes feel that I live in a city that is defined by the heaps of garbage.

2) Potholed roads: There was a short period earlier this year when we praised the road surface in the city. Most of the roads were relaid and the roads took on extra width. The medians were covered with lush vegetation and it was a pleasure to drive on the roads. Then, all of a sudden, potholes appeared and the roads are back to being hellish for any driver. Add to that the rains that we have been experiencing, I do not have to describe the nightmare of navigating through the city's main arteries. Why can we not make durable roads? Why cannot our roads remain good?

3) Chaotic traffic: Well, haphazard and chaotic traffic is the hallmark of any Indian city. Till recently, I believed that the road user in Chennai was a bit more conscious of road rules than his fellow citizen in other parts of our country. Not any longer.....I am appalled that Chennai is now witness to the same road sense that I see in a place like Gurgaon. Cutting traffic lights, driving the wrong way along one way streets, weaving dangerously across lanes, insensitive honking, focussed on your eyes headlights - you name it, we have it. Can we ever reclaim good road sense or is it only going to get worse? I wonder.......

4) Airport: A city's airport is said to be its gateway, bringing visitors in. I have not been able to figure out what our airport is going to look like when it is ready. And, most importantly, I do not have a clue when the airport will be ready after all the makeover. Cities like Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore and Hyderabad have modern airports. Will Chennai ever have one? Will Chennai be able to maintain them like they do at the private airports? We will have to live with a bad sarkari airport and even worse sarkari service.

What's the use of celebrating a city's past when the future looks bleak, I argue to myself.....I see the city losing its status amongst the major metros of the country. Bangalore and Hyderabad are gnawing away at our position. Pune is undergoing a major transformation that could leave us behind. And, I believe, Ahmedabad is a secret waiting to reveal itself.......We will find ourselves playing the catch up game always.....with the expectations and needs of our citizens galloping away faster than the government can act. And, when the government acts, we will be lumped with facilities and infrastructure which will be outdated.......

So, can we celebrate a Madras Week that will serve as a wake up call? If this city needs my loyalty, it better.....

Road names!

I live on Kalakshetra Road. It is named after the world renowned school of Indian classical dance and music, Kalakshetra. which is where the road leads to.

Walking home the other day for lunch, I was stopped by a father and daughter asking for directions to Kalakshetra. Judging by the violin which the young girl carried on her shoulder, I assumed that she was going to the school for admissions. For someone who had been living in the neighbourhood for over a decade, I was surprised that,anyone would need directions to get to this institution.

Which got me thinking......an institution (world renowned, I presume) does not have directions to their campus. Or, they do not believe that it is required. They possibly feel that it should be easy to find the place.....or, they want to keep low key.....which actually speaks volumes about the institution! And, the city administrators also see no point in marking the road and providing directions to a heritage institution!

On the contrary, see this - here is a hotel that opened its doors to the public recently and one can make no mistake getting there.....

Sign board on a lamp post

Pinned to a tree

Dangling from another tree

A standalone sign post

No tree is spared......

I would hate to live on a street called Katti Maa......Keys Street would be bearable but definitely not at the expense of Kalakshetra Road. There is a huge danger of this new hotel - Katti Maa, taking over the identity of the road. And, Kalakshetra Road could become the victim of an identity theft!

Biking in Bali!

One of the first things we did on arriving in Bali was to sign up for the Batur cycling tour. Little did I know what I was getting into. Done with the booking formalities, we were told to be ready in the hotel lobby at around 9am on the appointed day. We were taken in a minivan along with a Japanese family - a husband, wife and two young children, both below 10 years on a longish drive.

The drive itself was enjoyable - we took winding roads through Balinese villages, listened to streams gurgling and cut through lush tropical forests and green rice fields. On our way, we passed villages that sold Balinese handicrafts - masks, wind chimes, statues and figurines, batik and ikat (yes, Bali has a flourishing Ikat industry and the woven material looks like the Sambalpuri material that we see in India) and all kinds of knick knacks.....

Mount Batur at a distance - don't miss the black lava!

Lake Batur in the background

The drive took us to a hotel which gave us a panoramic view of the volcano, Mount Batur and the adjoining Batur Lake. You can feel a nip in the air at the hotel. Mount Batur is over 5000 feet high and you can clearly see signs of its last eruption, which happened in 2000, in the form of a river of black lava right along the slope of the volcano. It periodically shows volcanic activity and such activity is constantly monitored.You can trek up the volcano if you are adventurous enough. Lake Batur on the other hand, exudes serenity. It is considered a good source of fish and you notice indigenous fishing apparatus near the shores of the lake. What stands out is the greenery all around the volcano and the lake and I must admit, it is a treat to the eyes. We were treated to a light breakfast of Balinese items - many of which reminded me of old Kerala snacks eaten many years ago and since forgotten. Refreshed after sipping flavourful Balinese coffee, we were ready for our adventure. We were introduced to our guide who went by the name "Skinny" and had a cheerful and happy air about himself. He gave us our initial instructions and led us to the minivan which was to take us to the starting point of the cycling tour. Back in the van, I felt a churn of emotions as we were led closer to what could end up as a test for my fitness and endurance.

At the starting point, we were greeted by a line of cycles in different sizes. The guide helped us to our own bikes, helmets, riding gloves and water bottles. He gave us the riding and safety instructions to follow for the trip, repeating some of them for added emphasis. I was surprised to see the two Japanese children all kitted for the 26 km ride along with their parents. How many Indian parents would allow this?

Ready, steady, go......

The 26 kilometer long ride was mostly downhill and or on flat plains. It felt easy and nice as we went on village roads, mostly well covered with tarmac and a few, potholed. We jostled with hens and stray dogs for space on narrow paths. We passed by lush green paddy fields, waiting to be harvested. We crossed groups of school children walking to school in the villages and on mobikes in the towns. The workers in the paddy fields were mostly elderly men and women. Villagers of all age groups sitting by the roadside, waved and cheered us along. The sound of gushing water in the streams that border the rice fields was music to the ears.

We made a few stops during the tour. The first one was on a bamboo plantation where the guide explained to us about the varieties and the ways in which this grass was used extensively in Bali. So, it was bamboo leaves for making offering baskets, bamboo poles as scaffolding, bamboo for construction, young bamboo shoots in cooking and so on..... Then, we took a dirt road which led us to a Balinese farm - small areas which had mixed crops - pepper vines, cocoa bushes, papaya trees, orange bushes, arecanut palms - all growing side by side in no particular order. The farm also had a few cows. I was left wondering how similar the Balinese fields were to the ones in Kerala, in terms of the size of the farm as well as in terms of the crops grown. The next stop was by the side of a village temple. It was one of the larger ones that I had seen in Bali - but similar in terms of architecture and layout. We could not enter the temple since we were not appropriately dressed. Our next stopover was a typical Balinese house - complete with its own temple, a house for the grandparents (pretty dilapidated), the parents' home (much used) and the new and fancy house for the younger occupants (swanky, ornate and somewhat tastelessly done). We could see the animal barns on the rear side of the house as well as the wood fired kitchen still in use. We were treated to some freshly made sticky rice crisps and they tasted yummy. The house obviously belonged to a rich man and it had a rice granary to show for his prosperity.

Balinese coffee plant and beans

Entrance to a village Pura (temple)

The last stretch of the adventure turned out to be the most difficult - there were some six uphill climbs to negotiate. The first one was difficult but the remaining ones turned out to be easier as the technique to maneuver them became obvious. The cycling expedition ended with lunch where we were treated to items from local Balinese cuisine in a restaurant overlooking a paddy field.

Entrance to a Balinese home

Lush green paddy fields.....

Bicycle carrier!

The bicycle ride turned out to be very memorable. Besides opening up to me unknown facets of Balinese life, it got me to appreciate local values and beliefs. It gave me a glimpse of day to day living on the island as it exists now or perhaps, how it existed many years ago. For someone like me who can be considered minimally fit, it was a fitting outdoor adventure. Sore and painful legs and a sunburnt body notwithstanding, it is a trip that I would recommend to all my friends who are eager to take in Bali - in the raw. At the end of the tour, it didn't seem like the twenty six kilometers that it claimed to be. And, what better motivation than to have two young ladies cycle the entire distance, without a whimper.

Rice fields, again.....

My Sunny Balcony!!!

My apartment has a balcony that faces the East. At first, rays of the golden sun stream in through trees and buildings that stand in front of the balcony. Soon the entire balcony is enveloped in yellow.

Over the last 10 years, I have tried to make my balcony green. As we moved in to the apartment, I lugged flower pots that I had acquired from our days in Pune, Bangalore and Hyderabad. I was apprehensive about having enough space to line up my collection but fortunately, they all fitted pretty well.

I have a couple of ferns in my balcony. They are pretty sturdy and grow well in the balcony. You can bring them inside the house once in a while and they provide an instant makeover for the room. I use cuttings from the ferns every now and then to add the zing to my flower arrangements.

The plant on the right here taught me a thing about maintaining plants. Being fed with "pure" reverse osmosis water for many years, it refused to flower. Then one fine day I requested my help to use normal tap water and as if to acknowledge my decision, the plant flowered soon after. Frangipani, it is in miniature, I think. They have a strong identity of their own and can stand on their own any time.

Anthuriums - very tough to grow on a balcony - and very pretty when in flower. I am yet to master the technique to make sure there are plenty of flowers through the year and for some reason, the flowers always appear limp in my balcony.

Of late, I have been adding to my collection of small potted plants. I find that they are easy to move around and they can easily be shifted to add to the decor of our apartment. Besides, these days, one can find very interesting containers and I have grown fond of making a collection of them too.

That is my green corner. It has a variety of plants - all indoor varieties. The corner is cosy and looks like an evergreen patch in my sunny balcony. I sometimes let the creepers trail on the balcony wall and they do make a beautiful picture. Recently when we painted our apartment, we were forced to pull down the creepers. I like the wrought iron furniture that I have in the balcony. And, I make sure that the furniture always have colourful upholstery to provide the contrast. Please do not miss the mask hanging on the wall. Gifted by dear friends, it has found its perfect place in my little forest.

Mother-in-law's tongue, this plant is called. I do not see any connection. It is hardy and pretty easy to grow. They easily outgrow the container and have to be repotted. They have a graceful look and I like the lines that these tough leaves make.

Here is another nice green plant which can allowed to creep on walls, on moss sticks or just along the ground. I like the freshness in the green of this plant. Again, a very hardy plant, it is easy to grow and you can use cuttings of this plant and multiply them easily. I have seen people grow this plant in a water medium and it looks very classy.

This plant adds some colour to my green balcony. The purplish-maroon leaves are pretty to look at. Again, this is a plant that can add to the atmosphere in any room. It looks majestic but does not overpower with its presence when kept in the living area.

Here's my attempt at making a terrarium! It ended up being anything but a terrarium. I have a habit to collect pebbles from places I go to. Once when I got back from a river rafting trip in the Ganges, I had a bagful of pebbles collected from the sacred river. The security staff at the airport were amused at what I was lugging several thousands of kilometers. My son always brings at least one pebble from the places he visits and my collection continues to grow..... The cement plant holder has cacti, aloe vera and a thorny plant. These plants flourish in Chennai's heat making sure that there is always some greenery in the balcony. I have kept two wooden ducks that I got from a speaking engagement in the container. It is a little sad but the ducks get very little water.

 I have a Tulsi in my balcony. I think it will add to the good vibes in our apartment. However, I have learnt that the Tulsi plant is quite temperamental. It grows well but wilts all of a sudden. So, this is my nth plant and I get a regular supply of tiny Tulsi plants from my mother's garden. I hope to have a traditional Tulsi container one day - one with Lakshmi on one side and a lamp holder on the other. I am still looking for the ideal one!!!

I have one hanging plant - the common money plant. It appears to be growing well. I hope it will one day, grow till it touches the ground. I have a smiling sunny face hung from a springy wire which was picked up from the footpath in Warsaw. And, you can see one of the two mirrors that I have placed on the balcony. This one was from presented to me by my assistant after a trip to Rameshwaram. It has a frame made of sea shells. The other mirror adorns the opposite wall and has a terracotta frame made by the famous potter from Kerala, Jinan.

I owe this green balcony to two people - Shekhar, who drops in once a month to tend to the plants. He changes the soil, adds manure, loosens the mud around the plants, repots them as required and makes sure that they are all in good nick. Prem Singh waters the plants regularly although he does err every now and then when he overwaters them. I love the greenery and hope the plants will stay green forever!!!

Passport pains.....

Summer holidays were approaching and we were considering holiday options. A holiday abroad did seem like a good idea. Which meant research had to be done, tickets and hotels booked and passports readied..... It dawned on us that our son's passport would expire in the last week of March and our own passports would run short of pages for the forthcoming holiday abroad. So, off we started the work on renewing our passports..... Renewal of our son's passport was the priority. Additional pages could wait for our return from our vacation - we could just about manage with what we had.

We had heard that the Passport Offices across the country had been computerized so we felt a high degree of optimism about getting our passports renewed rather easily and quickly. Our enthusiasm and positiveness was short lived as we found out otherwise over the following days and weeks. Here is our own story......

It all started with three faces peering into our respective computer screens to read the instructions for renewal of our passports. Don't know if it was an Indian quirk but all three of us ended up with different interpretations of what was required of us for the process of renewal. For one, our son had turned 15 in end February which meant that he would be eligible for a passport with a 10 year validity. However, the website did offer the possibility of having it renewed for just 5 years with lesser documentation. So, we opted for the latter. As for additional pages, the website does not differentiate the procedure for this from that required for a renewal on expiry of the term so we had to go all the way as if it were a regular renewal.

Armed with knowledge that we gathered independently from the website, we completed the form available online and arrived at the Passport office at around 11am on the appointed (by ourselves) day. We were shocked to be received by a sea of people in different queues lined up all over the office - in corridors, on stairways, beyond the entrance - snaking rows of Indian citizens, in their quest for that powerful document. The document that would give them an identity as a citizen, the document that would enable them to fly across the seven seas, the document that would make them stand out as an Indian in far away lands. There were toddlers and senior citizens, mothers with babes in arms, husbands with wives, families, students seeking higher qualifications, sole breadwinners seeking brighter opportunities, professionals looking for better careers, devout in preparation of a religious journey and so on..... We had not anticipated this. After all, we had imagined that the systems had been computerised and hopefully, streamlined to reduce such crowds and bring in appropriate efficiency into the administering the process. Surveying the office premises and the crowds that had gathered there, we made a few enquiries and decided to head back home. On the way, we argued about what could have been done better or differently and ended up having one of those inconclusive and pointless discussions that families often have. We also spoke about taking assistance for getting the passports renewed, from an agent with the requisite experience to traverse Indian officialdom.

Having made some crucial decisions, we approached a local travel agent operating from a dingy office close to our home. Family members had on previous occasions taken help from the agent for booking airline tickets (at a time when online portals were absent from our lives) and had spoken about their efficiency and responsiveness. Armed with whatever documents we had prepared, we sat down to hear the lady at the desk issue a set of instructions. She spoke with an air of authority, with no emotion, as if the process had been etched in her brain so deeply that she could rattle it off even when in deep slumber. She did not pause to take questions, she fished out papers from here and there to show us examples of formats and wrote down simultaneously on a sheet of paper the list of documents and items required for the renewal process. Through her explanation we realised that the online process was actually restricted to 1) getting an appointment for a particular day for submitting your papers and 2) for taking a print out of the passport application form. Phew! That was a big revelation......

Considering we had attempted to complete the renewal application form ourselves, we were armed with several documents that were to be submitted along with the application form. For the additional documents, we all had to scramble for the next couple of days. My son had to get a bonafide certificate from his school along with an identity card. My husband had to call his friend who was a well placed officer in the Revenue Department asking for a Verification certificate and I was left to handle inputs like birth certificate, bank passbook, old passports, referrals, demand drafts, etc. We worked as a team and the documents required for the applications were lined up for scrutiny in front of little Miss Efficient at the travel agency. She compiled the documents in proper order, double checked for completeness and made a bundle of each.

Tatkal facility which involved a higher fee but a quicker turnaround of the process for reissue of the new passports.

As we stood in the queue, we made friends with people who were ahead of and behind us. They spoke of their experiences with the passport application process. We exchanged notes on what we heard of the process that awaited us. We spoke of the need to privatise the Passport Office. We discussed the inefficiencies of the government in providing basic citizens' services. It was the story that most Indians could relate to or had heard for years now. We spoke about our families, our work, our homes, our children and our backgrounds.....

We were waiting in this queue for a token to be affixed on our application form which would serve to put us in sequential order for a brief appointment with a staff at the office to whom we had to submit the application. No government office opens before 9.30am in India. And, given the punctuality record of government staff, it would be 10 by the time they appeared at their seats for carrying out their duties. There was a commotion around 10am followed by an expansion (people resting on ledges nearby joined the queue) and then contraction of the queue (early arrivers were released with stickers on the forms) which indicated that the token issuer had arrived and was at work. It was a rather quick process and we were allotted token numbers C 26 and 27. Please note that all along one had to contend with people who crossed the queue or interrupted the progress of the queue by posing sundry questions to anyone willing to provide an answer besides security staff who performed duties that went beyond providing for the safety and security of the visitors to the office premises.

During our 3 hour long wait, we had been told that the sequence number would roughly indicate the likely time of day when we could be called for the interaction with the passport official. Making a quick estimate of the wait time, we decided to step out of the office, get some fresh air and treat ourselves to breakfast at a nearby cafeteria. In no hurry to get back to the office and with time on our hands, we ordered well and enjoyed the meal.

We got back to the office for another wait which lasted close to an hour before we saw our token number flash on an electronic board. We submitted our papers and eagerly answered questions posed by the lady at the counter. To us she seemed intent on finding fault with the application and the information furnished. She had a pen with red ink which she used to scribble on the application. Every scribble felt like a wound. She found a couple of items overlooked in our application which she wanted us to redo. She directed us to some other office for confirmation of certain details. But importantly, she returned both applications confirming that they were not ready to be accepted for processing. The heart sank...... Through all of the cursory scan of our application, the lady was interrupted several times by other applicants who shouted out their queries and doubts from the side, her cellphone which she answered time and again and lastly by her colleagues who had very important information to convey from time to time. She was impatient to answer our queries, snapped when we tried to get more clarity on what was expected and raised her voice when we were persistent. It was close to 12.30pm by now and the crowds, the heat and the dust, the unhelpful attitude of the staff besides the process itself were beginning to hurt.

Gathering my self, I decided on the next course of action. Handing over my son's application form to my husband, I instructed him on what needed to be done to make sure we submitted it on the same day itself. He proceeded to act on it while I moved to another queue to make the payment for the renewal fees on my application. Now that queue was longish too but it gave me time to collect my thoughts on the next course of action. After a relatively short wait, I was able to deposit the fee and get an acknowledgment for my application form. At least one task was completed on that day.

I waited for my husband to return after what he had been assigned to do. He called me to inform me that he would be done in a few minutes and I took a place in the queue again to resubmit the application. I once again handed the documents over to the lady at the desk. I pointed out that all she had asked for was addressed, repeated that this was a routine renewal application with no change in details from the earlier passport, trying hard to make her see that it was a straightforward case for renewal. She seemed willing to listen this time round, made some marks in red ink again on the application before transferring it to the office file for processing. Having gone through the process before, I asked my son to hurry across to the queue for the payment of the renewal fees. As it happened, the counter closed for lunch just as my son stretched his arm to submit the fee against this application. We had to wait another half hour for the staff to return from lunch before the fee was accepted and a receipt returned to us. It was 2.30pm by then.

8 hours for mere submission of the two applications. And, then the wait for the passports began. It has been Tatkal applications so we have been told that the renewed passports would be dispatched in a fortnight's time.

We returned tired and broken at the end of the exercise. Every time I mentioned our experience to a friend, he or she would tell me that they spent only about half an hour in all at the Passport office. Or, that I should have mentioned of the renewal to them and they would have put me in touch with so and so.....

I wonder if and what we had done wrong.... Could it have been avoided? If so, what would we had to do? And, at what cost?

As I think through these questions, I wait for the postman who will bring our new passports......

Thinking about Stuff

Ever since I left my job, I have been going through and sorting out stuff every now and then....

Stuff, that has been collected over the last 40 plus years. Stuff, that have been boxed and put away in the loft. Stuff, that has been gathering dust. Stuff, that has been lying untouched and unseen. Stuff, that has been forgotten. Stuff, that had been bought on a whim. Stuff, that was gifted on an occasion. Stuff, that was picked up as souvenir during a visit. Stuff, that reminds you of an incident that has been quietly tucked away in the corner of your memory. Stuff, that evokes a lot of emotion. Stuff, that makes you cringe. Stuff, that has been kept aside for the future. Stuff, that you need to work on one day. Stuff, that you thought you had lost or consumed. Stuff, that you feel like giving away. Stuff, that you want to discard. Stuff, that will make place for some other stuff. Stuff, that makes you feel stuffy at home........

Strangely, encountering all these stuff reminded me of my own mortality.... I calculated at the back of my mind that I had enough of certain things to last my lifetime. And, some (in good measure) that would outlive me and probably, my son too. There was a lot of stuff that would be useful for someone else. And, there definitely was loads of stuff that had to be simply thrown away.......

Which leads me to the questions:

• Do I know, remember and care for all the things that I already have?
• What is it that I really need?
• How much do I need?
• Is there someone who needs it more than me?

And, that will make one less thoughtless consumer in the country........and, I am happy in that thought!

Sumptuous Buffett!!!!

The "Oracle of Omaha" is visiting India these days. He invited his customers for a free lunch and urged more to buy his products if they wanted to listen to him. He visited Taegu Tec, the low profile tool maker that he has invested in, while in Bangalore. Customary meetings with the Chief Minister and government officials followed. And soon, he along with close friends Bill Gates, will speak to rich folks in India to influence them to make pledges to give away their wealth in charity. Overwhelmed with the hospitality that he received in India, he said, "They treat me much better in India than they do in the United States."

Warren Buffett, aged 80, has been the only good news in the Indian media for the last few days. The blitzkrieg unleashed in Libya, the noise over the Wiki leaks revelations, the upcoming assembly elections, the poor display by India at the World Cup have made for a generally depressing morning newspaper read. In the midst of all this gloom, I found Buffett a refreshing change. His words were very pithy and yet so wise. He had a unassuming manner about him. He spoke in a self effacing manner at most times. He seemed to give little credence to "one of the wealthiest in the world" status. This was all in the face of wide eyed reporters (who seem to know everything) and all knowing stock analysts (who seem to be able to predict everything)....

I have been mostly amused and somewhat tickled by some of things that this gent said. "I am a retard for coming to India so late", he said as reporter after reporter quizzed him on his investment plans in India. So, where did all the brains for those marvellous investment decisions come from? He further added, "I don’t have to be smart about everything; I didn’t deliver my wife’s baby!" He definitely did not see himself as an all knowing guru that people were making him out to be....and note, he came to the interview carrying a can of Coke, the company he has earned much from.....that's what you call - putting your money where your mouth is!!!

In response to questions about his philanthropy, he merely said, "Money has no value to me but has value to other people so it makes sense to give it away." He added, "Personally, I would much prefer not to be born rich. I would like to be born with "certain talents" that are useful to the society so that I would lead a good life." So, money did not matter much to him too.....

When eager beaver investors and stock brokers asked for tips on investing, he responded, "The best investment one can do is to invest in yourself. The more you understand yourself, the better is your judgment." Now, that was an answer none in the investing community would have ever expected! He also blunt trigger happy investors with sage advice - "Invest in what you understand...don't go outside your circle of confidence...don't just buy and sell." To add to that he had the gall to come to Bangalore and say that he did not invest in Information technology because he understood very little of it, adding that he had a mere 100 shares in his best friend's company, Microsoft. And, when questioned on the rationale behind his recent purchase of a chemical company, Lubrizol, for a whopping USD 9.7 billion, he said in a rather matter of fact manner that as long as goods had to be produced, machines would be required and as long as machines needed to work, there was a need for lubricants to keep them functioning smoothly...... simple, isn't it?

On a slightly sombre note, reflecting on his success, he said, "I have been enormously lucky. I had very, very lucky genes. I was born in 1930, a 'wonderful time' to be born in. Had I been born in a different society and also as a black, I would not have same chances." 1930 - a wonderful time to be born? Ask anyone who lived in the United States in that year, they would never agree with him what with the Great Depression looming large........soon to be followed with World War II. And, he trailed off......."Life's about planting trees for others." Wonderful sentiment......

Still unhappy with him for not generating the "breaking news" kind of sound bites, our media men prodded him further to share the most interesting aspect of his life and all he said was, "And so far as I can tell -- after being a parent -- it's the most gratifying job on earth." Lovely thought!

Buffett is the man after my own heart......he brings good and simple values to the fore and highlights the importance of commonsense, which seems to be in short supply these days.

Attending an Unconference

Have you attended an Unconference? Well, I did.......

Trawling through the Internet one lazy Saturday afternoon, I stumbled upon an invitation to attend an Unconference being organised by ChennaiCityConnect (CCC). Curious and jobless as I was, I registered as a participant. And, it turned out to be a fun experience.......

CCC (www.chennaicityconnect.com) is a non governmental agency working to bring together various stakeholders involved in dealing with the challenges of being a rapidly growing city. The organization aims to bring together, on a single platform, different bodies that are working for the improvement of the city - laudable goal!

To highlight the issues of urban transportation, all participants were asked to use public transportation to reach the Indira Nagar MRT station. I decided to trek to the venue. I left home at 2pm for the station, an umbrella in hand to protect against the blazing sun (and undesirable fellow walkers and unpalatable city sights!) towards the metro station. Through most of the 2 plus km long trek, I was surprised to note that the road was flanked by reasonably wide footpaths. But, the footpath was hardly available for the use of the pedestrian - it was unevenly laid (or rearranged) in several parts, occupied by vendors selling this and that, converted into a home by a group of gypsies, covered with rubble from nearby construction and of course, used a lavatory......But the good news was - there was a footpath through almost three quarters of the distance that I walked. Now, that I am told is good news for urban planners and transportation managers. Space has already been set aside for the poor pedestrian.......we only need to give the space back to whom it belongs.....

What waited for me at the Indira Nagar MRT station was not something that I was prepared for. I followed the neon sign board indicating the station entrance only to be led into a vacant hall, with broken windows, rusty grills, puddles of water, row of clothes being dried and a heap of construction material. The cobwebs and the streams of light added to the effect! I mustered courage to walk through the wide corridors to find the real entrance to the station. It was surprisingly cleaner and better maintained and the escalators to the train station were actually working! Now, it must be mentioned here that the Indira Nagar MRT station will bag the first place for the most ugly building in Chennai. It almost seems like the builders were called to war at short notice and left the building incomplete as they went away to attend to more pressing matters. So you will see steel rods used for its construction jutting out in every single direction and the bricks left uncemented - well, could make for some interesting city art!

After gathering at the station, we were to proceed to an office across the prestigious Rajiv Gandhi Road (we definitely suffer the leadership vacuum - not too many names to choose from!) to the actual venue of the Unconference. We made a beeline for the sky walk (yes there is one for those who care!), including one of the participants on his cycle, to reach the other side of the road. I decided then and there - if ever I had an office on the IT Highway, the MRT would NOT be my choice of transportation!!! I would need to recover from my journey before I set out to work.....

The Unconference itself was an experience. Kiruba Shankar (www.kiruba.com), the evangelist blogger and the guru of social networking was present to anchor the event. He explained the moot idea behind an Unconference - the combined wisdom of the audience is greater than that of the presenter/ speaker. So, Unconference is all about participation. As he spoke, he pulled out of his small rucksack, various equipment for use at the Unconference - a camera with a tiny tripod to capture the proceedings for publication on the net, an audio recorder (not a microphone!) for recording the discussions, again for uploading on the net - and handed them over to the volunteers from the audience for use. He asked one person to take notes too - I suppose voice recognition is still not at a stage where paper and pencil could have been avoided! There were talks on rainwater harvesting (www.raincentre.net) and CCC's recommendations for the Chennai Metro Rail Project. Cool......this was a good example for the democratization of knowledge......everyone got an opportunity to speak! I returned home (I cheated, I took an autorickshaw for the ride back home, but come on, autos are public transport too!) feeling good about what I had heard, learned and experienced....

Resigned to reactions.........

When I decided to resign from the company where I had spent the last twelve years of my life, I did not anticipate that a decision that look rather commonplace would evoke a range of reactions......and, in fact it got me thinking of "ME" and my decision in a new light.

The overwhelming response to my decision, to my surprise, was of course, relief!!! Many of my colleagues in the firm were happy to see the beginning of the end of what was considered an unbreakable relationship. A few of them actually kept asking me, repeatedly, if it was for real and if I would stick firmly to my decision. And, in doing so, they made sure that I was unwavering in my resolve to break the tie.

There were many who were shocked. These were people who had strongly associated me with the firm and I was considered an inseparable part of the organization. I was variously referred to as antique, fixed asset, dinosaur, etc at various points of time and in their minds my identity was intertwined with that of the organization. That I could take such a decision was an impossibility for them.

There were others who were ready with opinions, suggestions, recommendations and views on what I needed to do next. Start off on your own, give up corporate life for good, go on a vacation, partner for a new venture, work for a non profit, blah blah......I was in no mood for any advice and nodded my head to all that was being suggested......

My parents had been hearing of the recession for the last several months and had come across many people who had left their jobs (taken a break!) and were cooling their heels. A few of their friends had children who were suddenly relocating to India.......and this trend was regarded suspiciously in their circle. First and foremost, my parents wanted to make sure that the decision to leave the firm was mine rather than that of my firm. Having convinced themselves of the true reason for the separation, they were worried if I would find another job in a market that was characterized by dwindling job opportunities......

My husband was ambivalent about my decision to part ways with my employer. While encouraging me to take a decision based on "merits of the case" and not get swayed by emotions, he has been flitting about in the background while I try to figure out my future.

My son is not one to show too much emotion or reaction. I cannot make out what he thinks of me and my decision and I think I am better off not delving too much into it!!!
 
My brother was only keen to know what my next port of call would be - would I look for an international posting, would there be travel, what would the pay be, would I have some awesome responsibilities....in that order!!! He seemed a bit in a hurry and completely oblivious to my need for a break!!!

My extended circle of relatives heaved a sigh of relief when they got news of my resignation. They said - it was high time - and wished I would concentrate my energies on running my home and caring for my husband and son, rather than spending time in airports, aeroplanes and foreign lands! One high flying cousin who heard of the decision rather late was aggrieved that I had beaten him to it - I have heard him talk of retirement since the time he finished management school!!!

Some of my dearest (and nearest!) friends were happy for me.....and possibly for themselves. They knew we could have more lunches together, get more cinema on working days and generally have a good time. And, the rest of them were plain angry - they asked why I was chucking it all away while the going was good.

My boss's reaction has been the most endearing. He still thinks it is a nightmare and that he will wake up to a happy ending. He firmly believes that I will return soon.......

My help at home made a face showing happiness and worry as I told him that I was jobless. I have been snooping around the kitchen and giving him grief. He does not fail to ask me everyday if I have found a job yet........

In the meanwhile, I enjoy my self imposed holiday hoping that I will discover a new ME!!!

Tinkling anklets

It has been a dream of mine - I longed to attend the Annual Dance Festival at the Music Academy in Chennai - for so many years. Work schedules and holiday plans always came in the way. This last season was when I was finally able to fulfill my wish - though I missed attending every single performance showcased at the festival. And, how much I enjoyed it! I got to see different artists perform - The Dhananjayans, Malavika Sarukkai, The Nrityagram Ensemble, Orissa Dance Academy led by Aruna Mohanty, Jayaprabha Menon, C V Chandrasekhar and Dominique Delorme. It was a wonderful week and here is my take on their performances. I missed Alarmel Valli, Darpana and Kalakshetra and also some of the up and coming artistes like Urmila Satyanarayana and Sheejith/ Parvathi Nambiar. I hope I can see them perform soon.

It seems like I am not to excited by traditional dance items. A nayika pining for a loved one is pretty stale for me. While I am open to seeing a fresh interpretation of a traditional piece, I feel that I enjoy artistes who take up new and contemporary themes for their shows. And it seems that there is a lot that is being explored by artistes, particularly the younger ones, these days. I also seem to relate better to such ideas rather than listen to the lament of a lovelorn damsel.

The other aspect of a live performance which to me has seen a significant change is the accompanying music. Artistes are increasingly using recorded music of very high quality for their shows. Besides the quality of singing at the dance recitals seems to have to improved dramatically and the singers are definitely adding to creating the appropriate mood and feel at a dance recital.

Shantha and V P Dhananjaya

Let me start with the Dhananjayans. I have had the privilege of being a student of theirs and have always admired them for their discipline and staunch adherence to methodology of dance as espoused by their alma mater, Kalakshetra. They performed a single item, the Nrityopaharam based on episodes from the Ramayana. A brilliant piece of choreography, it brought together nritta and abhinaya in combination. For a man born in 1939, rendering an item for the entire hour and 30 minutes without a break, was in itself a great achievement. And, the fact that he did justice to the composition was very evident. Shantha on her part is no young lady. She was as graceful and perfect as I remember her 30 years ago. To me they embody the idea of Ardhanareeshwara, maintaining their individual identities and yet complimenting each other.

Jayaprabha Menon

Jayaprabha Menon is a relatively recent convert to Mohiniattam. She started off as a student of Bharatanatyam and was drawn to the sensuous dance of Mohini after she watched Bharati Shivaji perform. In the past few years, she has concentrated on honing her skills in this dance form and she is considered a performer to watch out for. Her performance combined traditional and contemporary pieces from the dance's repertoire. One particularly noteworthy item which she presented was based on the story of Yashodhara, Sidhartha's wife, who laments her husband's decision to leave the palace and his family in search of enlightenment and calls herself the "Sidhartha" for having accepted her husband's decision to forsake his worldly responsibilities. I hope to see more of her in the future.

Malavika Sarukkai

Malavika Sarukkai never fails to impress me. She seems an embodiment of grace and finesse and her statuesque figure is very striking. Her performance was based on a very contemporary theme - terrorism and she juxtaposed the idea of sacred spaces (our temples) against the chaos and destruction that violence causes. All the items followed this central theme and the entire performance stood out as an artiste's call for lasting peace. That she is a story teller par excellence through her dance is a no brainer. She has the power to transport the audience to the world that she creates and I can vouch for this experience.

Surupa Sen and Bijayini Satpathy

Surupa and Bijayini are like two peas in a pod. When the Almighty created them, he created one in the image of the other. They are like God's chosen twins - ever synchronised and in complete harmony but without losing their own individual personality and talent. They are supremely blessed and I am sure Protima Bedi must be smiling at them. They presented traditional pieces, but their choreography and presentation came like a whiff of fresh air. There was something ethereal in their rendering of "Sridevi" and their presentation "Om Namah Shivayai, Om Namah Shivaya" was nothing short of divine. The fact that I had seen these presentations on an earlier occasion at Kalakshetra did not take away from my enjoying their performance and I am sure I will continue to follow them closely.

Aruna Mohanty

Aruna Mohanty is my find of the season. I have been so impressed by her and her dancing and researching her, she has led me to discover the Orissa Dance Academy. I first came across Aruna during a recent performance at Kalakshetra and she was mind blowing. I was surprised and ashamed not to have heard of her before. She has an expressive face, particularly her eyes and she managed to get me to experience her feelings, emotions and moods conveyed so eloquently through her dance. I loved the choreography in both items presented - Navarasa and Kripanidhaana - and the artistes from the Academy were outstanding. The highlight of the performance was the perfection in their execution. Again the evening had a contemporary and traditional piece but was stood out was the freshness in how they were presented. I will not miss an opportunity to see more of this group and Aruna in particular and I hope there will be more occasions soon.

I also attended two sessions featuring a Frenchman, Dominque Delorme and much acclaimed guru, C V Chandrasekhar. I do not have anything specific to say about their performances - that is not to belittle them but their performances did not move me at all.

Dominique Delorme

C V Chandrasekhar