Monthly Archives: April 2014

A Jeelani Twist to the Old

JeelaniDiariesMPOs22apr2014

When you think Hyderabad, you think Nizam and by extension you think biryani. To satiate that palate yet give a new twist to the old, Viva at Vivanta by Taj, Begumpet, has launched the Jeelani Diaries, a unique pairing of Nizami food with cocktails.

The four course menu is prepared by Chef Jeelani, who spent the better part of his childhood in the Nizam’s kitchen along with his father who was an assistant in the royal kitchens. With typical specialities like the Dum biriyani almost considered ‘ghar ka khana’  (homemade food) for the chef who has always been preparing and specialising in the Hyderabadi-Nizam cuisine, the spread is promising.

Besides the chef, what makes the Jeelani Diaries even more of a mouthful is the careful cocktail pairing. Served with the starters, each comes with a choice of two cocktails that complement and enhance the flavours.

For instance, the menu opens with a selection of signature favourites such as the kale chane ke kebab that comes with a serving of falak or pudina while the aloo shikampoor is teamed with mild firangi nariyal or vodka shikanji.

The idea is sip on the drink while you eat, so make sure you don’t down yours before you finish off your kebabs; the elaborate pairing that has gone into the process to improve the flavour will be lost.

Besides a colourful array on your platter, the chefs have ensured a colourful array of the cocktails as well.

Other authentic dishes find their way to the menu, including Bhagara Baigan, Charra Aloo Choti Methi and Jungli Murghi ka Salan. But make sure you end your meal with their rather interesting choice of desserts —  Palak ka halwa, Mirchi ka halwa and Gosht ka halwa.The Jeelani Diaries is open for lunch and dinner at Viva from 12:30 to 3 pm, and 7:30 to 11 pm.

For reservations, contact 040 6725 3642.

source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Hyderabad / by Express Features – Hyderabad / April 11th, 2014

Geared up

Mission on wheels: While cycling to Delhi from Chennai, S. Nagoor Meeran made many friends./  Photo: M. Karunakaran / The Hindu
Mission on wheels: While cycling to Delhi from Chennai, S. Nagoor Meeran made many friends./ Photo: M. Karunakaran / The Hindu

Nagoor Meeran, a tailor, cycled to Delhi to meet Abdul Kalam. Vipasha Sinha on his feat

Neither the merciless weather nor the bumpy roads could stop S. Nagoor Meeran from meeting the APJ Abdul Kalam in 2003. At that time, Kalam was the President of India.

Nagoor started his journey to the capital by cycle from Tenkasi. In 35 days, he rode through Chennai, Hyderabad, Nagpur, Bhopal, Agra. It was commendable for a 57-year old to perform such a feat.

Ten years later, Nagoor shares the story of that journey and talks of his love for cycling.

“The Lion’s Club was planning to do an event to promote world peace. They had different ideas in mind but I suggested that I could cycle all the way to Delhi and meet the president,” says Nagoor, who is a tailor by the day and watchman by the night.

It was an Imam from his town who suggested to him the idea long ago and this seemed like a perfect opportunity. He had also met Kalam’s brother in Rameshwaram and expressed his interest in meeting the head of the country.

“However, when I reached Delhi I was told I could not meet the President. Yet I was hopeful. I wrote about my journey and the purpose of the meeting and left the request in a glass box kept for people who wish to meet the President. Reading it, he agreed to meet me. I quickly changed my clothes ahead of the meeting. Mr. Kalam was kind enough to have lunch with me. We spoke about three things – the need to promote peace and communal harmony, development in his native town of Tenkasi, and my desire to visit Mecca. I also presented a letter appreciating him,” says Nagoor.

He also got a chance meet other ministers and personalities. All that he carried for the journey on a basic Hercules cycle was a small bag and a bottle of water. He says there were many people who helped him complete his quest along the way.

“I would start in the morning and by six in the evening, I would look for a temple or a police station or a forest department office where I could spend the night. Some people would offer food and water. Between Agra and Delhi come these humungous soft drink outlets, I went there and they gave me two big bottles of cool drinks for the journey. Since water was a major problem, I would befriend the truck and lorry drivers on the highway, and they would erect tents where they could rest. I would use their water tanks to clean my clothes and take a bath. There were times when I would go without a bath for days. I also maintained a diary with the signature and names of all the people who helped me during the journey,” says Nagoor, who has to spend around Rs. 10,000 for this trip, which was partially sponsored by Lions Club and Sun Tv.

Completing his mission, he took a train back to Chennai. Now, he carries in his small bag a photo taken with Kalam and few newspaper clippings lauding his feat. Ask him why he took that journey, he says: “It was just for the love of cycling.”

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Down Town / by Vipasha Sinha / Chennai – March 29th, 2014

Confluence of ragas

 

S. Kasim and S. Babu, Nadhaswaram vidwans and grandsons of the legendary nadhaswaram exponent Sheikh Chinna Moulana, feel there is no place for ego in music. / Photo: M. Moorthy / The Hindu
S. Kasim and S. Babu, Nadhaswaram vidwans and grandsons of the legendary nadhaswaram exponent Sheikh Chinna Moulana, feel there is no place for ego in music. / Photo: M. Moorthy / The Hindu

Kasim and Babu are the inheritors of nadhaswaram exponent Sheik Chinna Moulana’s musical legacy in more ways than one. Nahla Nainar listens to their story

Grandsons or disciples? “Before we are grandsons of Sangeetha Kalanidhi Sheik Chinna Moulana, we are his disciples,” asserts Subhan Kasim. Speaking about his maternal grandfather and acclaimed nadhaswaram exponent is clearly a matter of great pride for Kasim, who with his younger brother Babu, was handpicked by the maestro to continue the family’s musical legacy.

Kasim and Babu meet visitors at ‘Alaphana’, the 1950s-era house in Srirangam that was formerly Sheik Chinna Moulana’s residence and is now Kasim’s home. A hot breeze stirs up the dry leaves outside, but the mood inside is one of quiet reflection. It will be 15 years this week since Sheik Chinna Moulana died at the age of 74.

“From 1982, after I graduated from college, until Thatha’s last concert in 1999 in Chennai’s Music Academy, where he was awarded the Sangeetha Kalanidhi title, I was performing with him,” recalls Kasim. “Thatha never had a retirement phase, he just kept working, or teaching.”

The Dr. Chinnamoulana Memorial Trust set up by Kasim and Babu will be hosting its 15th Shradhanjali (commemorative gathering) at Tiruchi this week.

Music in the veins

Originally from Karavadi in Andhra Pradesh, the family has over three centuries of experience in playing the nadhaswaram. “Thatha belonged to the Chilakaluripet school of music,” says Kasim, naming the town in Guntur district. “Among his gurus were his own father, Sheik Kasim Sahib, and later, Sheik Adam Sahib.”

Despite emerging as a noted performer in the Andhra style of Carnatic music, Sheik Chinna Moulana decided to explore the Thanjavur ‘bhani’ (school) which allows for greater variations in presenting ragas. “From an early age, Thatha was influenced by the recordings of T.N. Rajarathinam Pillai (1898-1956). He migrated to Tamil Nadu to get trained in the Thanjavur style of playing by the Rajam-Duraikannu brothers of Nachiarkovil for four to five years,” says Kasim.

Sheik Chinna Moulana’s career took off in the early 1960s, and Kasim believes it was the exposure to the Thanjavur ‘bhani’ that helped immensely. The maestro decided to make the pilgrimage town of Srirangam his home. Kasim, who accompanied his grandfather to Tamil Nadu early on, studied at the Srirangam Boys High School, and went on to graduate in Physics, at St. Joseph’s College, Tiruchi, while getting his music education at home.

Babu joined the in-house gurukul in his teenage years, and was educated up to Standard 8 in Andhra Pradesh. “We started our training with smaller versions of the nadhaswaram,” says Babu in halting Tamil, “Then, as we became older and and our hands grew accustomed to reaching all the fingering holes, we were given the regular-size instruments.”

The nadhaswaram, together with the ‘thavil’ drum, are often referred to as ‘mangala vadyam’ or auspicious instruments, showing their importance to sacred music in southern India.

The nadhaswaram’s use as a solely temple-based instrument for daily prayers and processions was slowly introduced to a more public and secular platform by royal families and later, the landed gentry.

“Nadhaswaram is an integral part of our society,” says Kasim. “Few occasions – weddings, housewarming ceremonies or prayers – are complete without its music.”

The days of concerts that would start late and go on past midnight are well and truly gone, says Kasim. “Artists today have learned to compress what was being done in four hours, to two-and-a-half. Most of the concerts these days are held from 7 to 9.30 p.m., which is a good duration. It allows more women to attend as well,” he says.

Concert exposure is as important to the artist as getting practical instruction, says Kasim. “I learned a lot about presentation and public relations while performing with Thatha,” he says. “These days, with overseas assignments, the artists must be prepared to interact with people of other nationalities too.”

Above all barriers

Kasim and Babu maintain an extensive audio-visual archive of their grandfather’s music concerts at home. Some video samples, such as Sheik Chinna Moulana and shehnai virtuoso Ustad Bismillah Khan exchanging ideas on fingering techniques on the two instruments, are shown to students of the Saradha Nadaswara Sangeetha Ashram, a school established by Sheik Chinna Moulana and today run by his family in Srirangam.

A typical day for the brothers starts off with breathing exercises (pranayama), and is followed by practice sessions on the nadhaswaram. Afternoons are reserved for vocal music lessons for the students, followed by instrument training in the evenings. “We spend the rest of the day in updating ourselves,” says Kasim. “Unlike before, there are hundreds of compositions being brought out these days, so as active performing artists, we must be familiar with what is going on in the arena.”

As to whether there’s any sibling rivalry during concerts, Kasim replies: “I support my brother when he takes the lead, and he supports me when I take the lead. There is no place for ego in music.”

The success of Muslim artists like Sheik Chinna Moulana and Bismillah Khan in a sometimes exclusively Hindu cultural sphere is a great example of India’s syncretism. Both the brothers, presently the special nadhaswaram artists of the Tirumala Tirupati Devasthanams, feel that music is above matters of faith.

“Thatha often used to say ‘music is my religion; perfection is my aim.’ In northern India, most of the doyens of classical music are Muslims. You have the Kirana gharana, Bade Ghulam Ali, Roshanara Begum and so on. Those who speak of religion cannot ignore the contribution of the Mughal dynasty to the field; ragas like Malkauns, Amir Kalyani and Darbari Kanada all have an Islamic origin. Only those who are ignorant about music object to Muslims in the field,” smiles Kasim.

What is more pertinent is institutional support for classical music in India, he says. “The temple’s day begins and ends with nadhaswaram music. But increasingly, even big temples are doing without these musicians. The government should step in by paying exponents a decent salary and encouraging their employment,” says Kasim. “The backing of sabhas is crucial as well, because it helps in the musicians’ professional growth.”

Tribute to the maestro

The Dr. Chinnamoulana Memorial Trust, set up in 1999 by his grandsons Subhan Kasim and Subhan Babu, will be hosting its 15th ‘Shradhanjali’ (commemorative gathering) at Hotel Sangam on April 13 and 14.

At the event, the trust will be presenting nadhaswaram instruments to six deserving students this year, and for the first time, ‘thavil’ drums to three pupils, as part of the corporate social responsibility initiative of Bharat Heavy Electricals Limited (BHEL). In addition to this, a purse and citation each will be presented to senior artists Pandhanallur P.K. Ramalingam Pillai (nadhaswaram) and Needamangalam C. T. Kannappa Pillai (thavil).

Concert performances include a vocal recital by T.K. Krishna on April 13, and a nadhaswaram rendering by M. Sivadivel the next day. The event is being organised in co-operation with Rasika Ranjana Sabha, Tiruchi.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus / by Nahla Nainar / Tiruchirapalli – April 11th, 2014

Young minds behind Rizwan’s online footprint

Volunteers working at Rizwan Arshad’s war room. (Left) Congress candidate from Bangalore Central, Rizwan Arshad along with MLA Dinesh Gundu Rao campaigns in Gandhinagar on Wednesday —R.Samuel
Volunteers working at Rizwan Arshad’s war room. (Left) Congress candidate from Bangalore Central, Rizwan Arshad along with MLA Dinesh Gundu Rao campaigns in Gandhinagar on Wednesday —R.Samuel

Bengaluru: 

The Karnataka Pradesh Congress Committee (KPCC) office stands proud on Queens Road, with larger-than-life posters of Rahul Gandhi gazing down on the busy street. However, all the election time action is happening elsewhere, in a narrow bylane nearby where the party’s back office is located, invisible to those who are not in the know.

About 30 people sit inside the quiet office, slaving away at their computers. Youtube videos, social networking and Website content are generated here, and the group is responsible for the Congress party’s strong online presence.

These are volunteers who have put their regular jobs on hold for Congress’ Bangalore Central candidate Rizwan Arshad, vowing to ensure that he wins the election.
Inside the ‘op centre’, people from different teams don’t interact with each other directly.
“The campaign is never fully revealed,” said a source. “That’s the best way to keep it a secret.” Even so, the pieces come together to form a well-knit campaign, titled “One Among Us, For Us.”
“I heard of this through a mutual friend and I think Rizwan is a great guy. Besides, being part of the campaign gives me a high. I have been doing this since the last three elections,” said Bhagath Reddy, a marketing professional in his thirties. “I make it a point to volunteer for someone or the other.”
The group of volunteers, he said, comprises people between the ages 18 and 32, some of whom work on the campaign full time and others who come in on weekends. “It’s interesting to see these volunteers here, because in today’s world, people barely know who the candidates are even in their own constituencies.”
At this point, Muzaffar enters the room. The 34-year-old businessman says he and Rizwan are childhood friends and have been together since school.
“I’ve been campaigning for him since college,” he said. “We’ve been together through thick and thin.” Although he has been closely involved with local politics and his loyalty to Rizwan Arshad has never faltered, he has no political ambitions himself.
That seems to be the case, though, with all the young volunteers. The involvement of youth in politics seems issue-based. Anushree N., who does content, and Shruti Das, who handles graphic design, echo this sentiment.
“I want to understand how the system works,” said Shruthi, in response to why she volunteered for this. “I’ve never done political writing and I wanted to give it a try. It’s been a great experience so far,” said Anushree.
Whatever their reasons, for the youth, this is more than a battle between political candidates. This is a chance to shape the India they want to see. //
source: http://www.deccanchronicle.com / Deccan Chronicle / Home> Nation> Politics / by Darshana Ramdev / April 10th, 2014  

I am… S. Amjad Ibrahim – Watch and spectacles seller/repairer

S. Amjad Ibrahim says sometimes business is dull and sometimes there is no business at all. / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu
S. Amjad Ibrahim says sometimes business is dull and sometimes there is no business at all. / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu

On some days, I earn around Rs.150-200. Sometimes, there’s no business at all. Then I just sit here and watch the world go by until it is time to go home

It’s just been a few months since I set up my mobile stall here; before this I was selling agarbatti (incense sticks) and attar (fragrant essential oil used in perfumes). I also offer lucky birthstones and sunglasses for two-wheeler users.

Customers can both buy watches and get them repaired by me.

Usually it’s nothing more than a battery change. But watches stop working when they get wet. The water cuts off the battery wire within and also rusts the metallic buttons.

Most of the parts are electronic these days, so they can be replaced piecemeal without damaging the entire watch.

It takes me around 20-30 minutes to repair a watch. And there are days when a watch refuses to work despite all the time I spend on it – I put it away and return to it after a break.

I usually charge Rs. 10 or 20 for watch-repair. Of late I have taken to selling spectacle frames as well.

Shops charge in the hundreds of rupees for a single frame – I buy cheap frames and used ones as well, and sell them for around Rs.20-30 to people who cannot afford the pricey ones.

I push my cart from home, around 2 kilometres away and reach here (Bharatidasan Salai) by 10 a.m.

The traffic policemen often complain about vendors like us being in the way – but as you can see, I’m just minding my own business without troubling anyone.

There’s no breakfast, just a cup of tea at home. For lunch, I usually have a serving of ‘kool’ (porridge) from the stall nearby. It keeps me full until sunset, when I pack up my cart and push it back home in time for dinner. It’s good exercise for me.

On some days, I earn around Rs.150-200. Sometimes, there’s no business at all. Then I just sit here and watch the world go by until it is time to go home. I have six grown-up children, three sons and three daughters.

Most of the watch spares are easily available in Singarathope – you have to ask for ‘China movement’. I’ve spent roughly Rs. 6000 on my stock; I do hope I’ll be able to earn a profit soon.

I’ve dabbled with many other jobs and businesses before – I used to own a grocery store once, but had to close it down because I couldn’t manage it alone.

It’s important to keep earning something, no matter how old you are.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus> Society / by Nahla Nainar / Tiruchrapalli – April 11th, 2014

Drumming up a legacy of 32 generations

Artistes gather this weekend to remember Ustad Karamatullah Khan, who carried a legacy of centuries, Yogesh Pawar reports

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An unbroken lineage going back to the 12th century: that’s the legacy of the late tabla doyen Ustad Karamatullah Khan, who passed away in 1977 after a lifelong commitment to music.

“To carry the weight of the legacy of 32 generations and do it ever so lightly is no joke,” says renowned octogenarian sarod maestro Buddhadev Dasgupta. Though frail in health, his spirits pick up as he remembers Farukkhabad gharana’s Karamatullah Khan, who passed away when he was just 60.

“Just the mention of his name brings memories of his divine tabla,” he adds while addressing a gathering on the occasion of a special tribute to the late legend at the National Council of Performing Arts, Mumbai this weekend.

In fact, there was a time in the 50s and 60s when no top artist would perform without him, remembers well-known vocalist Ustad Rashid Khan, part of the line-up at the event.

“Imagine his formidable talent that he would be the accompanist of choice for the late sarod maestro Haafiz Ali Khan saheb (father of Ustad Amjad Ali Khan), sitar maestros Enayat Khan saheb (father of the late sitar maestro Ustad Vilayat Khan), Pt Ravi Shankar and Kathak legend Pt Birju Maharaj,” he points out. “These are giants in their arts. If all of them insisted on him, can you begin to fathom his exceptional greatness?”

International Kathak legend Pt Chitresh Das, who grew up in the Kolkata of yore, sheds more light on the man. “I grew up watching Ustad Karamatullah Khansaheb performing in all-night concerts in Kolkata. I also saw his father perform. I danced with Ustad Karamatullah Khan when I was just 20 years old at the grand New Empire auditorium in Kolkata. (Karamatullah’s son) Sabir was just three years old then. It’s a great feeling to have performed with three generations of this family,” Das says.

Vocalist Begum Parveen Sultana echoes him. “Music is the only way to pay tribute to a soul as great as him. We can only hope and pray dua for a man who was an exceptional guru, musician and human being. In classical music, the main requirement is surrender and complete bhakti for the art. Without that, there can be no sukoon in your art like the kind Ustad Karamatullah Khan found.”

In this, Karamatullah was taking a leaf from his father, the late Ustad Masit Khan, the unparalleled tabla legend of his time who also performed with most if not all top musicians, such as vocalist Ustad Fayyaz Khan saheb and Ustad Haafiz Ali Khan. In fact, he was primarily responsible for popularising the tabla in West Bengal through disciples like the late Pandit Jnan Prakash Ghosh and, of course, his son who brought in a new dimension as he blended his tabla technique effortlessly with vocal, instrumental and dance, not to mention his solo performances with equal ease.

As India’s top names from the world of classical music come together on one platform, his son and heir to the Farukkhabad legacy, Ustad Sabir Khan, who will a lead a tabla quartet with his three sons, admits to being overwhelmed by the love and respect for both the gharana and his father. A tinge of bitterness escapes him though.”I wish some of this had come in his lifetime. Despite being a pioneering artiste and composer, he never got his due.”

Stating that his father was so devoted to his art that he barely had time to chase honours like the Padma awards, the son says, “But the fact that he is remembered and recognised by music lovers for the unparalleled rich legacy he has left behind is perhaps the best possible award.”

This is not a son’s indulgent hyperbole. Other tabla legends like Ustad Zamir Ahmed Khan point out how no tabla player in the world can be free from the Farukkhabad gharana influence. “Many others have hogged the limelight and become media darlings but the true connoisseurs know when they begin playing how much they borrow from our gharana’s teachings.”

The Farukkhabad gharana of tabla was created in the 12th century by a Rajput court musician, Akaasa, who later converted to Islam and changed his name to Mir Akaasa. Sabir Khan credits him with introduction of bols into percussion. The first bols introduced were tat-dhit-thun-nan. “It began with pakhawaj and later these techniques were brought into tabla too.”

Mir Akaasa died in 1189 AD. He was succeeded by nine sons and a daughter. He passed on his legacy to his eldest son, Ustad Bilawal Khan, who in turn passed the torch of the gharana to Ustad Ali Bux (famous for his kran bols). This tradition continued till the 26th descendant, Ustad Haji Vilayat Ali Khan (1779-1826). It was he who named this gharana after the province he settled in — Farukkhabad.

Soon after his seven pilgrimages to Mecca, Haji Vilayat Khan gained fame for his famous battle of tabla gats with Ustad Salaali Khan saheb who had challenged Ustad Bakshu Khan saheb of the Lucknow gharana. In order to save his pride, Bakshu Khan saheb requested Haji saheb, who was also Salaali Khan saheb’s uncle, to fight the battle with Salaali Khan saheb, on his behalf.

A fortnight-long battle ensued where many gats (authentic compositions of the gharanas) and jodas (pairs of such compositions) were exchanged, Haji saheb played a unique gat (gat of Gazi) whose joda Ustad Salaali Khan saheb could not come up with. Haji saheb was declared the winner.

As a reward, Ustad Bakshu Khan saheb gave his daughter in marriage to Haji saheb, who in return gave Salaali Khan saheb his own daughter in marriage along with 14 authentic gats known as jahezi gats as dowry. Ustad Sabir Khan — the 33rd generation of this unbroken lineage is followed by his sons Arif, Asif and Ameen Khan who take after him.

There is a huge variety in the repertoire of compositions owing to the tremendous creative output of great composers such as Haji Vilayat Ali Khan, Ustad Nisar Hussain Khan saheb, Ustad Nanhe Khan saheb and Ustad Karamatullah Khan. This is of course discounting the huge number of new gats.

Little wonder then that the oldest school of tabla has such a rich and varied repertoire.

Earlier known as the purbi baaj (eastern style), characterised by an extensive use of resonant strokes the playing style contains similarities to the techniques of the pakhawaj certain bols, such as dheredhere, takataka.

Medieval pandits
Mir Akaasa (founder) (1132 – 1189)
Ustad Bilawal Akasa (1151 – 1208)
Ustad ALi Bux (kran) (1182 – 1255)
Ustad Bairam Khan (1204 – 1260)
Ustad Dhamman Khan (1236 – 1292)
Ustad Tajalmulh Khan (1260 – 1297)
Ustad Bunda Khan (1284 – 1329)
Ustad Asgari Khan (1306 – 1348)
Ustad Ali Raza Khan (1331 – 1371)
Ustad Ali Ahmed Khan (1355 – 1398)
Ustad Ramzan Khan (1378 – 1438)
Ustad Bakshu Khan (1397 – 1508)
Ustad Ali Asgar Khan (1425 – 1480)
Ustad Neyaz Khan (1450 – 1525)
Ustad Daulu Khan (1496 – 1548)
Ustad Waheed Khan (1517 – 1565)
Ustad Altaf Khan (1534 – 1574)
Ustad Jannesar Khan (1546 – 1609)
Ustad Dilawar Khan (1570 – 1646)
Ustad Yawar Khan (1602 – 1653)
Ustad Nasru Khan (1628 – 1677)
Ustad Bhurey Khan (1648 – 1691)
Ustad Enayat Khan (1676 – 1732)
Ustad Murad Khan (1705 – 1747)
Ustad Inam Ali Khan (1731 – 1790)
Ustad Shetab Ali Khan (1759 – 1816)
Ustad Aman ALi Khan (1779 – 1826)
Ustad Haji Vilayat Ali Khan (1803 – 1873)
Ustad Nesar Hussain Khan (1824 – 1877)
Ustad Nanhe Khan (1847 – 1902)
Ustad Masit Khan (1872 – 1974)
Ustad Karamatullah Khan (1917 – 1977)
Ustad Sabir Khan (1959)
Arif Khan (1986)
Asif Khan (1990) Ameen Khan (1992)

source: http://www.dnaindia.com / DNA / Home> Lifestyle / by Yogesh Pawar / Place:Mumbai, Agency:DNA / Sunday – April 13th, 2014

Creative collaborations

The father-son duo may not share the same calling, but are not averse to sharing notes on their respective artistic pursuits

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It was going to be different. This meeting. Artist Yusuf Arakkal, famous for his all-black attire as he is for his intense paintings, was dressed in pristine white kurta pyjama. “Don’t I look good?” he asks, leading the way to his large studio bathed in white light from huge north-facing windows. Paintings worth colossal amounts of money are stacked against the wall — some still await the maestro’s final touch.

Shibu, Arakkal’s only child, walks up to one of Arakkal’s paintings — an unnamed abstract — and wipes away a disturbing speck of dust. He then stands back and looks — not at the painting, but at the spot that he’s just cleaned. “I had no interest in art,” he says.

Arakkal cuts in: “In fact, I was worried that he would become an artist. I didn’t want him to be one. He would’ve been subjected to unfair comparisons.” There’s a reason behind Arakkal’s fear.

It was 1983. Arakkal was bestowed the National Award in Delhi along with Shamshad Husain, son of the legendary MF Husain. “After receiving the award,” recalls Arakkal, “we were walking back together when we overheard an artist say, ‘Baap ka beta hai isliye award le gaya.’ (He is THE father’s son, that’s why he took the award). That was terribly unfair to Shamshad.”

Arakkal never wanted Shibu to be subjected to such derision. He needn’t have worried.

Shibu’s calling was different. He wanted to become a photographer, but he didn’t know it at that time. Back then he wanted to be a football player, cricket player and also “an IAF pilot”.

He was a curious child, remembers the father. When he was two-years-old Shibu ripped off the film from his father’s Praktica camera and declared: “There is nothing to see.” Arakkal laughs, remembering the incident.

When he was in the eighth standard, Shibu was enamored by his father’s photographer friend, Regis Richard’s tiny camera. “It was almost like a spy camera,” recalls Shibu. He bombarded Richard with questions. And before he left the city, Richard gifted Shibu his Asahi Pentax 110 camera. “It was my first camera. Ever,” says Shibu.

However, Arakkal was convinced about his son’s talent as a photographer only when he saw a photo of a tiger clicked by him for an inter-college competition. “I looked at it and knew at once that this boy understood lighting,” says Arakkal, whose paintings are renowned for their artistic show of light and shadows. Shibu won the competition for the next three years in a row. “He had begun his journey that led him down an arduous route reserved for artists,” explains Arakkal.

The Arakkals discuss their works with each other freely. Shibu’s panoramic work from his series Passing By occupy pride of place at the Arakkal’s home. Jostling for attention is his baby portrait done by Arakkal during an eclipse when a four-year-old Shibu was more inclined to peer at the sun. “It was a way to keep him indoors and still by asking him to pose for me,” says Arakkal.

The duo might not agree on many things in life, but they firmly believe that to be an artist one has to have in-depth technical knowledge. As an art student at the Chitrakala Parishad College, Arakkal remembers his teachers sending them out “into the world to do live sketching” — 50 sketches a week and 10 watercolour paintings were the norm. The first thing he did after graduating in 1973 was to destroy most of his works done as a student. “I didn’t want to be burdened by those works and wanted to start afresh,” he says.

He then painted eight paintings — and several collages and collographs — depicting abstract and religious themes — and had his first solo show at the Alliance Francaise in 1975. It was a sell-out. “Today, students regularly hold solo shows even while learning art. There is a big hurry,” feels Arakkal. Shibu says the same is true of his world. “Half of the photographers have not seen a dark room and many do not understand the depth of photography.”

Father and son share the creative realm but their approach to it is different. “I am not emotional like him,” says Shibu. That could be because their early, impressionable years were diverse. Arakkal, from the royal Arakkal family in Kerala, had run away from home at 16. He wanted to be an artist. For two years he roamed the streets of Bangalore — unwilling to let go of his dream. “If I am an artist today, it is because I was stubborn about my dream,” says Arakkal. “He is the most stubborn person in our family,” laughs Shibu. His two-year-old daughter Zarah, he says, displays her grandfather’s stubborn streak. “Probably taking after him,” he says.

When Shibu recently won the Florence Biennale Gold Medal (2013) for his Constructing Life, Arakkal’s heart swelled with fatherly pride. The son had made a place for himself under the sun, away from his father’s colossal shadows. But there were detractors. Some of them commented that Shibu got the award because his father had influenced the jury. “Dad wanted to clarify but I told him not to,” says Shibu. “I rather focus on my work than answering them.” Arakkal nods in agreement. His son has indeed charted his own path.

source: http://www.bangaloremirror.com / Bangalore Mirror / Home> Columns> Sunday Read / by Jayanthi Madhukar, Bangalore Mirror Bureau / April 12th, 2014

Gangs of Mumbai

No one will step forward unless he wants to get chopped up like a carrot,” he said coldly. Twenty-four-year-old Amar Naik, wielding a chopper like a vegetable knife, was ready to take that one step that would catapult him from an ordinary youth to a criminal. Working at his brother’s vegetable shop, it was his reaction to paying vargani (contribution) to the Gawli and Potya gangs that operated in the Parel-Byculla belt in Mumbai.

Rakesh Khundongbam
Rakesh Khundongbam

After Dongri to Dubai, which traced the journey of don Dawood Ibrahim, S Hussain Zaidi returns with Byculla to Bangkok. In his new book, he chronicles the lives and times of Mumbai’s Maharashtrian mobsters—from Arun Gawli who went from being a mill worker to a dreaded gangster and part of the incredibly named BRA gang (taken from the initials of its three leading members Babu Reshim, Rama Naik and Arun Gawli), to Ashwin Naik, a civil engineer who joined his gangster brother Amar Naik’s gang and the biggest of them all, Chhota Rajan, who went on to become Dawood’s right-hand man and later foe ultimately joining hands with Dawood’s rival Gawli.

Byculla to Bangkok By: S. Hussain Zaidi Pages: 299 Price: Rs 304 Imprint: HarperCollins
Byculla to Bangkok By: S. Hussain Zaidi Pages: 299 Price: Rs 304 Imprint: HarperCollins

Zaidi makes a connection between the shutting down of mills in the 1980s and ’90s and lack of jobs, and the rise of gangs and their foray into real estate deals besides the liquor dens, extortion, black marketing of cinema tickets and settling of financial disputes.

There is a saying in the underworld, Zaidi writes, ‘Jiski nazar game se hati, woh game se hata’ (He who does not keep his eye on the game eventually loses it). It was a time when reprisal killings —one gang would kill a member of a rival gang and the other would retaliate —were rampant to establish supremacy and ‘shootouts’ constantly made headlines. Family was usually off limits but Dawood went for Gawli’s brother and Gawli retaliated by killing Dawood’s brother-in-law. Killings also extended to businessmen and mill owners who were sources of finance to rival gangs and Zaidi unravels the complex web, trying to bring the shifts in power as each gang tried to decimate the other, into an orderly narrative. It is a difficult task and he goes from past to present, one episode to another, making it somewhat difficult to keep track of.

By 1995, “the mafia had spread its tentacles to real estate, Bollywood, and almost everywhere it could smell money. In the nineties, few flaunted their wealth for fear of being spotted by the mafia, which lost no time in making that ‘Pay or else’ call. Then police commissioner Ram Dev Tyagi greenlighted the era of police encounters, and “between 1993 and 2003, some 600 criminals were killed in Mumbai”.

The press note for all these was standard (A team of officers intercepted a vehicle… the gangster was told to surrender but he opened fire… the cops fired in retaliation and self-defence), but Zaidi, in true potboiler style, tells the stories behind the official versions and of the second and third-rung aides and shooters, from Dawood’s hitman Sautya whose lust was legendary and who deviously plotted to kill the husband of the woman he loved to the diminutive D K Rao who managed to kill his one-time colleague O P Singh in no less than the confines of a jail. Of how India’s biggest druglord got smitten by the charms of a “woman of indescribable beauty…”, and who was ultimately to be his downfall. It is not just a chronicling of the men of the underworld but also the stuff Bollywood dreams are made of.

Byculla to Bangkok

By: S. Hussain Zaidi

Pages: 299  Price: Rs 304

Imprint: HarperCollins

source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> LifeStyle> Books / by Monica Bhatihja / April 13th, 2014

Aligarh students extract bio-diesel from used mustard oil

Aligarh :

A group of engineering students from Aligarh Muslim University have succeeded in extracting bio-diesel from refined and used mustard oil, university officials said on Tuesday.

Third-year students of the Diploma in Engineering at the AMU Polytechnic designed a bio-diesel extraction plant as part of the recently developed Alternative Fuel and Combustion Engineering Lab, said M. Yunus Khan, assistant professor of mechanical engineering.

The process can help in directly replacing diesel in conventional engines, thereby reducing India’s dependence on imported oil and emissions of various pollutants, officials said.

Bio-diesel is a renewable fuel derived from vegetable oil that can be an additive to or entirely replace diesel in engines.

source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> Science / IANS / April 01st, 2014

Lucknow madrasa stands apart

Writing success stories from behind the veil

Girls studying in the seminary speak fluent English and learn about interior decoration.For a casual visitor they may appear to be orthodox Muslim girls in veil receiving Islamic education at a “madrasa” (Islamic seminary).

Begum Shehnaz Sidarat watches as girls study in madrasa at Firangimahal in Lucknow
Begum Shehnaz Sidarat watches as girls study in madrasa at Firangimahal in Lucknow

But when you talk to them the opinion will quickly change. They tell you  their views about the world in fluent English and turn out to be modern in their outlook. They are computer savvy and can give you a tip on interior decoration.

These girls, as a part of their studies at the seminary, learn language and affairs of the world. Besides, they are told to be modern in their outlook. “I want the girls to remain in hijab (veil) but at the same time drive a car and also speak English,” says Begum Shehnaz Sidarat, who runs the seminary, which is located at the historic Firangimahal in the walled city in Lucknow.

 

The name Firangimahal had been given to the building as it used to house Britishers before Independence, who were then referred to as “firangis”.

“There is a general perception that girls who receive education in madrasas, are not modern and progressive in their outlook. They prefer to remain indoors and are considered to be orthodox. I want to change this perception,” Shehnaz told Deccan Herald.

Shehnaz calls it a kind of “fusion”. “It’s an endeavour to bring the religion closer to society, to make it progressive and make sure that there is no clash between society and the religion,” she says.

She started the madrasa in 2012. “Today, we have 33 girls and all of them are from conservative families. But that doesn’t make any difference,” Shehnaz remarks.

“The syllabus of the madrasa has been designed in such a way that it integrates religious education with modernity,” she points out and adds that it was essential today to teach the girls how to conduct themselves in a fast-changing world and at the same time maintain the traditions. Shehnaz says that all her faculty consisted of voluntary workers. She even has a Canadian national to teach girls English. Canadian Catherine Laur came in contact with Shehnaz while the former was in India in connection with her research work and got impressed with the concept of “religion-society fusion”.

Vocational training

“Besides English,  girls are taught computers, interior decoration and given vocational training so that they can become independent,” she says. Girls are also taught about the rights of Muslim women. “There is a popular misconception that Islam has not given rights to Muslim women.

We want to dispel this notion. The rights are there but women do not know about them and thus become vulnerable to exploitation,” she says. “Islam has given rights to women but society has deprived them of their rightful due.  It is really an unfortunate scenario,” Shehnaz says.

She said that almost all the girls at the madrasa are from middle class families and are studying 12th standard. “Initially, the response was not good but gradually it picked up,” she adds. Girls are charged a nominal fee at the time of getting admission. “We charge a nominal fee of Rs 50 only,” she says.

Shehnaz feels that there is an urgent need to re-define Islamic laws so that they are not in conflict with society. “When religious beliefs are in clash with the social beliefs, confusion begins,” she points out. “For instance there is a lot of misconception about the fatwas (religious decrees). There is no compulsion on anyone to abide by what the fatwas say.

They are simply advices to the people who seek some guidance on particular issues in the light of the islam,” she says.

Misconceptions

She also seems to be annoyed with the media for spreading such misconceptions about the “fatwas”. Shehnaz has been running adult education classes for Muslim women. She recently started adult education classes for Muslim women, who had been displaced after a large-scale communal violence in Uttar Pradesh’s Muzaffarnagar district. “We have opened four centres in Muzaffarnagar for such women,” she says.

Shehnaz says that she was thrilled by the tremendous response she received from Muslim women in Muzaffarnagar. “There were as many as 180 registrations on the first day of the opening of the centres,” she adds. Shehnaz and her group of volunteers also provide counselling to Muslim women who face exploitation of different kinds. “So far, hundreds of Muslim women have received counselling. Some were also provided legal help when it was required,” she adds.

A recipient of several awards, Shehnaz has so far successfully united hundreds of families which were on the verge of split owing to one or the other reason. Shehnaz wants to turn her madrasa into a university some day where Muslim girls could be given every kind of education. Though she herself belonged to a conservative family, Shehnaz wants Muslim girls to break the shackles of orthodoxy and adapt themselves to the changing world.

Shehnaz is also associated with All India Talim Ghar, which is engaged in providing training in teaching. “The Talim Ghar has so far prepared thousands of teachers. The students at Talim Ghar consist of all sections of society,” she says.

She underlines the need for conducting  an in depth research in Islam. “Some research has been done in Islam. Ulemas (clerics) have not been able to link the religion with society,” she adds.

source: http://www.deccanherald.com / Deccan Herald / Home> Special Features / by Sanjay Pandey – Lucknow / DHNS / March 30th, 2014