Though he has just released a new book, Mohsin is already working on his next graphic novel series, a science fiction set in ’90s, with the working title of E.T Club.
Bengaluru :
Rahil Mohsin is sure living his dream as a comic book creator. After having spent his childhood watching and drawing cartoons, nothing much has changed for him since he continues his hobby and even publishes it for others. The journey began with him being an avid comic book reader as a child, which led to a BA Honours in Animation later. Today, he has been a comic book creator for eight years and is all set to launch his fourth book, a comic series called Catdad & Supermom. The first issue of the same will be launched at Bengaluru Comic Con this year.
Looking back at the initial years, Mohsin recalls how in 2011 he was approached by Sufi Studios, a city-based Indian comic book publisher, with whom he went on to illustrate three graphic novels. Later, he moved to self publishing to create his own content and was successful in publishing his three one shots, called The Big Sheep, Kiss Kiss Blam Blam and Blame it on Rahil, respectively. “I realised that being an artist for hire wasn’t that difficult. But once you start publishing by yourself, there’s business along with promoting, printing and marketing at different conventions,” he told CE at Champaca Bookstore, Library, Café, where he conducted a creativity and imagination workshop for children.
His latest work, Catdad & Supermom, is a creation of Mohsin’s friend, a Florida-based independent comic book publisher named Robert Gregory. Ask Mohsin to describe the work and he says, “A group of silly superheroes with wholesome family entertainment where we teach kids about serious topics.” Entertaining and educative, the first issue of the series deals with the concept of bullying and how a kid imagines superheroes who teach them how to stand for himself and help people who are in need. “The characters were created by Robert Gregory and I have designed the characters artistically, and I also wrote the story and drew it in a comic format,” he added.
Comics are generally assumed to be targeted at teenagers and young adults. And as someone who ‘grew up on comics’, Mohsin knew he too wanted to work on comics for the same age group. “Since I am Bengaluru-based, I used to frequent the many second-hand bookstores of the city to buy my comics. Once I grew up, I realised most of the content was not kid-friendly. This is close to my heart as I used to work with kids as a schoolteacher before I started making comics. I wanted kids to have entertaining stories with superheroes and a lot of comedy in it; they also need to take something home it shouldn’t be just about entertainment. They need to have a message to carry along with them,” he explained.
Though he has just released a new book, Mohsin is already working on his next graphic novel series, a science fiction set in ’90s, with the working title of E.T Club.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Bengaluru / by Priyansha / Express News Service / October 30th, 2019
Murshidabad, the seat of Mughal power in Bengal, serves up an impressive cuisine
A vegetarian thali; dal bada; bhapa maach; gosht biryani;
Mention Murshidabadi cuisine, and many foodies would look at you wonderingly. A well-kept secret, this district, which in the 18th century was a Mughal seat of power and ruled over undivided Bengal, Bihar and Odisha, can surprise you with its subtle flavours. Executive Chef Syed Mustaque Murshid, a descendant of one of the earliest settlers in the region, introduced some signature dishes from the Murshidabadi platter to the Delhi palate at Zambar, Ambience Mall, Gurugram, during a weeklong Murshidabadi Utsab this month. Tracing his roots to 23 generations, Murshid learnt cooking from his mother.
He says, “Murshidabadi cuisine is one of the oldest cuisines of India. Being a chef from Murshidabad, I want the masses to know more about this and reassert that West Bengal is more than just Bengali cuisine. Food has always been known to break barriers between communities and Murshidabadi cuisine is the best example of how we slowly imbibed the Persian culture and married it with our local flavours to come up with something delectable.”
Murshidabadi cuisine is often known as a lighter version of the rich Mughal food and like any Mughal dish, it involves the trademark slow preparation, grounding of the masalas on a sil-batta, etc. It emerged at a time when ‘Mughaliya’ cuisine—or the food that the Mughals brought with them to India—was merging with different Indian tastes and giving birth to newer cuisines. The popular Awadhi and Hyderabadi cuisine were born during this period, as were the cuisines of Rampur, old Delhi, and of course, Murshidabad.
The influence is quite apparent in dishes such as the dalchini gosht (mutton flavoured only with cinnamon), boti seekh kebab, and of course, the trademark biryani—which is actually a poorer version of its richer Mughal cousin. The biryani comes with equal portions of mutton and potatoes and is more rustic in its use of masalas, unlike the subtle aroma of the Mughal version. The tikiyas that come in a variety of kinds—from prawns, to mutton to beetroot—are a firmer version of the typical succulent Mughal kebabs. Unlike its Mughal counterpart, the most sought-after qormas in Murshidabad are vegetarian—the aloo qorma and yam qorma.
The cuisine also boasts a fair amount of Bengali influence. There is the very traditional shukto (a milky mix of vegetables tempered with paanch phoron), albeit with fried nuts and sans the bitters. There is also the bhapa maach (a steamed fish with curd, mustard and coconut). A very subtle dish, Murshid’s version was truly magnificent.
Vineet Manocha, Senior Vice President, Culinary, Lite Bite Foods Pvt Ltd, shares, “At Zambar, we strive to offer local flavours from different regions of India. Murshidabadi Utsab was in line with our philosophy to promote regional cuisines and we received encouraging response from food enthusiasts in the city.” This amazing cuisine also includes tok murgi (a sour chicken curry), savoury rice pancakes, and of course, a host of posto or poppy dishes in keeping with its similarities with the Bengali cuisine.
In fact, they also boast a posto halwa, which is often a crowd-pleaser. Unfortunately, it was not something our palate took to positively when we tasted it. Too sweet, it still retained its distinct ground flavour which goes well with savoury items. But the zarda pulao (sweet pulao) more than made up for the halwa.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Lifestyle> Food / by Medha Dutta Yadav / Express News Service / October 24th, 2019
Aaliya Sultana Babi is a princess who, along with her figurative crown, also wears—quite literally—the broad-brimmed hat of a paleontologist! She is the daughter of the Nawab of Balasinor, and traces her ancestry to Sher Khan Babi, the founder of the state of Junagadh, who was bestowed the nawabship by the Mughal emperor Humayun. Tens of millions of years ago, during the Mesozoic era, the lands of Aaliya Babi’s forefathers teemed with ancient reptiles and dinosaurs, and the rocks of Rahioli village (which has earned the moniker of India’s Cretaceous Park) near Balasinor are now etched with the remains of bones, eggs, teeth, and skulls, approximately 67 million years old.
These prehistoric giants include long-necked titanosaurs, an enormous snake, and a crested abelisaur often referred to as “the T-rex of India”—the deadly Rajasaurus narmadensis. Aaliya Babi is an ardent advocate for the protection and preservation of this rare and precious fossil site in Gujarat, which is one of the largest dinosaur fossil sites in the world, and she champions the cause of dinosaur education and conservation in India. As a dinosaur enthusiast who admires and has closely followed her work, including the Dinosaur Fossil Park and Museum that she has set up in partnership with Gujarat Tourism, I am honored to have been able to interview this Dinosaur Princess!
AALIYA BABI IS AN ARDENT ADVOCATE FOR THE PROTECTION AND PRESERVATION OF THIS RARE AND PRECIOUS FOSSIL SITE IN GUJARAT, WHICH IS ONE OF THE LARGEST DINOSAUR FOSSIL SITES IN THE WORLD, AND SHE CHAMPIONS THE CAUSE OF DINOSAUR EDUCATION AND CONSERVATION IN INDIA.
Bhavika: I really admire your contributions to the field of dinosaur conservation. What sparked your interest in dinosaurs?
Aaliya: As a young girl of about four or five, I was fascinated with dinosaurs, despite the lack of exposure to dinosaurs that we grew up amidst. While learning the English alphabet, I would say “A for Apple” and “D for Dinosaur” instead of for “Dog”! I also knew the spellings of “brontosaurus” and “diplodocus,” which were both my favourite dinosaurs! All this was forgotten when I was shipped off to a boarding school, but when I came back after completing my schooling, the interest was rekindled.
Bhavika: I wish more children in India shared your enthusiasm and fondness! Do you believe it’s important for children to be familiar with dinosaurs? What would be your advice to a child who dreams of becoming a paleontologist?
Aaliya: Not just children, but, according to me, everyone should know about our prehistoric earth, and the fascinating creatures that inhabited it. Through our museum and fossil park, we are trying our level best to educate the people. I, in my own way, am trying to create awareness through lectures, presentations, and exhibits held across schools, colleges, universities, and museums, both in Gujarat and abroad, and have received favourable responses. If children want to take up palaeontology as a career, it is unfortunate that in India, we currently don’t have much scope in the discipline, as only limited educational institutes offer subjects related to paleontology. But we need to rectify that. There are some talks going on to include geology into school curricula in the future.
Bhavika: That’s lamentable. India has a wealth of fossils, but these are unexplored and undervalued. Why is this so? What are the current challenges?
Aaliya: There are a lot of challenges which I have faced over the years in trying to get the fossil site protected. First and foremost, we, in India, don’t have any legislations pertaining to fossil protection, and we don’t care for our heritage. It has taken me more than twenty-two years to get the site duly recognized and protected, but still it’s open and vulnerable to vandalism, as we have limited well-trained guards. Secondly, we don’t possess the required funds for excavations and the subsequent studying of fossils, and hardly any good-quality museums exist to exhibit them. We are also lacking in trained professionals.
THERE ARE A LOT OF CHALLENGES WHICH I HAVE FACED OVER THE YEARS IN TRYING TO GET THE FOSSIL SITE PROTECTED. FIRST AND FOREMOST, WE, IN INDIA, DON’T HAVE ANY LEGISLATIONS PERTAINING TO FOSSIL PROTECTION, AND WE DON’T CARE FOR OUR HERITAGE.
Bhavika: Do you believe that there’s potential for dinosaur tourism in India?
Aaliya: There is a huge, huge, HUGE potential for dinosaur tourism in India. You see, in the earlier days, people were not very aware about dinosaurs. The Jurassic Park movie series, based on Michael Crichton’s books, has sparked interest in dinosaurs, and now we also have access to so much information and literature on them. I’ve come across both three-year-olds and eighty-year-olds who want to know about these fascinating creatures that ruled our earth for millions of years! I get children who are so deeply interested in dinosaurs that they want to become paleontologists, and so times are changing!
Bhavika: How does the Garden Palace Heritage Hotel that you run from your royal palace go toward this mission?
Aaliya: The Garden Palace was built in 1883, and we began offering the palace as a homestay around 1997. From having only 1 renovated room, to now 13 rooms, we have come a long way! When we get visitors for the fossil park, we often have them stay at our property or take their meals here, as this is the only place in the area for a comfortable accommodation and a decent meal. We are famous for our cuisine, as my mother, Begum Saheba Farhat Sultana Babi of Balasinor, is a true connoisseur of food, and has carried forward the legacy of the signature Balasinori cuisine.
Bhavika: Can you tell us about the Rajasaurus? Do you believe it should feature in one of the next films from the Jurassic World franchise?
Aaliya: Yes, definitely, the Rajasaurus should feature in the coming Jurassic World movies! The fossilized remains of the Rajasaurus narmadensis were excavated by Dr. Suresh Shrivastav and team in 1983. The dinosaur was approximately 9 meters in length and 2.4 meters in height and weighed approximately 4000 kgs. It is a genus of abelisaurid theropod carnivores from the Late Cretaceous (Maastrichtian) of India, and is represented by one species, Rajasaurus narmadensis. It was formally described in 2003 based on a partial braincase, spine, hip bone, a leg and tail—a first for an Indian theropod dinosaur. The dinosaur had a single horn-like structure on the forehead, which was probably used for display and head-butting. Like other abelisaurids, Rajasaurus was probably an ambush predator and hunted in packs. Numerous theropod eggs and nests have also been found from the Rahioli Balasinor region.
Another similar dinosaur which has been named after the village of Rahioli is the Rahiolisaurus gujaratensis. Rahiolisaurus is another genus of abelisaurid theropod dinosaur from the Late Cretaceous (Maastrichtian) of India. It fossils were excavated by teams from the GSI (Geological Survey of India), Indian Statistical Institute, Kolkata, and Texas Tech University in the USA, between 1995-1997, from the Lameta formation of Rahioli, and it was formally described as Rahiolisaurus gujaratensis in 2010. It can be distinguished from the Rajasaurus by its more slender and gracile build. It is known from a pebbly sandstone containing seven different individuals—from a juvenile to a fully-grown adult. It was 8 meters in length, 3 meters in height, and weighed approximately 2 tons.
Bhavika: Do you believe dinosaurs are linked, in anyway, to the myths and folklore of India?
Aaliya: Yes. We have heard tales of dinosaur eggs being worshipped by villagers, as they resemble shivlings. We hear that ammonite fossils (salagramas) are also worshiped, as they are believed by many to be natural manifestations and divine symbols of Lord Vishnu. The shell’s circular form, with its radial markings, resembles the discus (chakra) of the deity.
Bhavika: Is it especially challenging to be a woman in the field of science and conservation?
Aaliya: I think I am the only woman, as of now, from an aristocratic family in India, who is involved with fossil preservation and conservation. It definitely had its ups and downs, but I think I have used my family name and connection for the protection of the fossils and the betterment of the villagers.
This definitely was a roller coaster ride, but it has been a wonderful ride, nonetheless. Times are changing now, and women, today, are in all fields. I have had the support and blessings of eminent paleontologists like Dr. Ashok Sahni and Dr. Suresh Shrivastava, among others, who have helped and guided me throughout this phase, and have imparted so much of their knowledge to me. And I have a simple motto: that nothing is impossible in life; if we set our hearts and minds to it, we can achieve anything and everything! The word “IMPOSSIBLE” shouldn’t exist in our dictionary!
source: http://www.feminisminindia.com / Feminism In India / Home> Society> Environment / by Guest Writer / posted by Bhavika Sicka / October 28th, 2019
Drawing from her vast knowledge of Indian cuisine, celebrated British chef Asma Khan dives into how a shared love for food can blur the boundaries of race and gender.
How would you define the soft power of Indian cuisine in the world?
The beauty of food is that you can enjoy and appreciate it without having to understand the language or the intricacies of a culture. It is the first contact many non-Indians have with Indian heritage. Indian food is a doorway to Indian culture and its people. It sparks conversations between people of different ethnicities.
The prevalence of Indian restaurants and food in supermarkets in countries like the UK means that almost every person has a chance to try and taste the country’s food.
What are some transformative business models (and hiring practices) that you feel could harness the potential of Indian food globally
It is important that food from a culture reflects the roots, flavours, and aromas of that cuisine. Given the popularity of street food in big cities around the world, it is one way in which Indian street food can be presented. Street food is complex, but people of all nationalities can be trained to assemble and serve these dishes.
As far as restaurants are concerned, the traditional model of family-owned businesses is deeply under threat as the next generation seldom wants to go into this business. In the UK, this has resulted in the closing down of many restaurants. A radical rethink is required in the way staff are recruited and trained. The first change should be an attempt to increase the number of women working.
Are the nuances of Indian food filtering through alongside its general popularity?
The generic Indian food, which was popular a decade ago, is still favoured by many. There is a greater awareness of regionality of Indian cuisine because of cheap travel to India, and information available on both the internet and television.
Does cuisine have a role to play in wider political debates, such as Brexit?
There isn’t a united cuisine of Europe. The European Union’s biggest role when it came to food was establishing vigorous health and safety regulations for the food industry and for the way we farmed and fished.
In Europe, there is a very strong regional tradition when it comes to food, which was not impacted by the birth and extension of the European Union. There is no doubt that breaking bread between neighbours is helpful, and sharing a meal helps bring down barriers between people.
How would you categorise your vision for gender balance in the workplace?
My vision is one of equality, equality for opportunity and progression in kitchens for men and women. There is an urgent need to establish codes of conduct, which protect the dignity and honour of everyone working in the kitchen. For too long, the dominant position of the head chef, invariably a man, has meant that the culture of a kitchen is very masculine and sometimes toxic and aggressive. This can intimidate and exclude some women working alongside these men. There has to be respect for women in all kitchens.
How can food technology be harnessed to tackle health-related issues such as diabetes?
There is a growth in food items that are low in fat, low in cholesterol, that are targeted to people trying to practice a healthier diet. Additional information in the labelling for diabetics is the way forward as healthy eating is the standard advice given to them. Diabetics do not necessarily need food produced specifically for them as there is already a growth of low sugar, low starch options.
How does being a Global Indian impact your wider worldview?
I have the advantage of being from the east and the west. I feel rooted in two nations. My cultural and culinary heritage is Indian. This is a great advantage in the work I do as I can present the cuisine of my country of origin with a depth and understanding that comes from having lived there for the first 22 years of my life.
Even though I have now lived longer in the UK than in India, I still feel a deep-rooted connection to my motherland. I can, therefore, explain to someone from another heritage who I am, where I come from, and what my country stands for.
source: http://www.indiaincgroup.com / Home> Interviews / October 24 & October 25th, 2019
Retired, but not tired of working for former NTC official Dr M Ameer Althaf, who took up intensive research on Holy Quran for well over three decade. And in his seven yearlong untiring effort, he has penned the book ‘Athaatchigal Thirukkuran Kalai Kalanjiam’ in a four part series, which is close to his heart. Undoubtedly, this is a magnum opus for the author.
Notably, Ameer Althaf had won the heart of Kovaiites for his different avatars in Thirukkuran Arakkattalai, Coimbatore District United Jamaath, AIMMS Muslim Women Community College. Adding another feather to his cap, he brought out the book ‘Pettagam’, a compilation of 300 long history of Coimbatore Muslims which was released at a gala function in 2014.
As to the adage ‘Hardwork pays rich dividends’, his research papers on Holy Quran were presented and published in global forum like Umma-al Qura University in Mecca, King Fahad University in Madina, University Malaya, Islamic Science University Malaysia besides universities in Istanbul, Jordan, Qatar, Mali. His four decade central government service and three decade research on Holy Quran made him go places across the globe. Significantly, he became to be known as International Holy Quran researcher.
A function is being organised under the aegis of Dhaanish Ahmed Institute of Technology (DAIT) and Al Azhar Educational Trust on October 20 at Podanur Thendral mahal to release the book ‘Athaatchigal’ by former supreme court judge Fakir Mohamed Ibrahim Kalifullah and former High Court judge K N Basha in the presence of leading luminaries Alhaj K Moosa, chairman, DAIT group, Alhaj UAK Jailani, managing trustee, Al Azhar Education Trust.
Sunnath Jamaath Federation general secretary Alhaj M A Inayathullah will preside while Ranipet Additional District and Sessions Judge A Mohamed Ziyavudeen will felicitate at the event.
Moulavi Alhaj M A Abdur Rahim, president, Coimbatore-Nilgiris-Tirupur district Jamathul Ulema Sabai, Moulavi Alhaj M A Mohammed Imdhadi, president, Coimbatore city Jamathul Ulema Sabai, social activist Aloor Shanavas, Coimbatore district United Jamaath president Alhaj A R Basheer Ahamed, Tamil Nadu Haj organisors association president Alhaj A Mohamed Rafeek, Iqra Educational Trust president Alhaj H E Iqbal Sait, Project Manager in Kuwait Haji M A Azad will address the audience at the book release event. Himayathul Muslimeen Sunnath Jamaath, Podanur secretary Haji KTS Riyas Kapoor will propose the vote of thanks. Other dignitaries who will speak at the event include Holy Quran translator Prof Mohamed Khan baqavi, TN state Jamathul Ulema deputy general secretary Moulavi Alhaj K M Ilyas Riyaji, Chennai Anna Salai Makkah Masjid chief imam Moulana M Mohammed Mansoor Kasimi, Madras University HoD Arabic, Persian and Urdu Dr A Zakir Hussain Baqavi and senior network consultant, Abudhabi Dr Mohamed Ibrahim.
source: http://www.muslimmirror.com / Muslim Mirror / Home> Indian Muslim> Positive Story> Religion / by M. Rafi Ahmed / October 10th, 2019
Sadaf Hussain chronicles home-made food in his new book Daastane-Dastarkhan.
Sadaf Hussain’s charming new, first book Daastane-Dastarkhan has been published by Hachette India.
Sadaf Hussain’s charming new book Daastane-Dastarkhan starts with the story of a pir who, every Thursday, visited his mother’s family in Sasaram, Bihar. But one day he appeared on a Wednesday, throwing his grandmother into panic because there was no meat for the aloo-gosht she always fed him. She had to be inventive. She used dried figs and poppy seed paste, to make a salan, threw in fried potatoes, balanced it with garam masala and chillies, and served it with rice and besan rotis. The pir was delighted: “May Allah bless you with an abundance of food and may no one ever leave your home hungry.
A recipe like this is not what many would think of as Indian Muslim food. Where is the intense meat focus? Where are the kebabs and biryanis? The problem starts with thinking there is something that can be neatly labelled Indian Muslim food. The fact that people do this might be just another way in which Indian Muslims are diminished by clubbing their many communities into one and ascribing easy stereotypes to them.
Ummi Abdulla, who has documented the food of Malabar Muslims, makes mutta mala or egg threads.
Part of the problem is that there is a market in catering to such stereotypes. Once a year during Ramzan, many people decide to have an iftar experience and go out — without fasting — to eat the rich food cooked on street sides for the occasion. But this has as little relation to regular home food in Muslim communities across India, as does a Diwali or Christmas feast have for Hindu or Christian home food.
One way people get exposed to home food of different communities is when they share food with neighbours, especially as kids. But as housing becomes increasingly segregated, this is becoming harder.
This lack of knowledge has been compounded by a curious lack of cookbooks from different Indian Muslim communities.
There are cookbooks from cities like Lucknow and Hyderabad where certain types of Muslim food dominate, but what’s presented tends to be street food or special occasion dishes, both mostly made by men. These are important, but it means that the daily, home dishes get left out.
There have been a few exceptions. Ummi Abdulla made a pioneering contribution by documenting the food of the Malabar Muslim, or Moplah, community, with all its complex interactions between the local ingredients of Kerala and influences from Arab traders.
Bilkees Latif ’s Essential Andhra Cookbook captured similar interactions from Hyderabad. Mumbai’s Inquilab newspaper brought out a collection of booklets, in Urdu and English, on Memon, Kokani, Bohra and Kashmiri food. There were a few other books printed privately or abroad, but little else.
Adil Ahmad’s Tehzeeb chronicles the home food of an upper-class Lucknow family.
Doreen Hassan’s Saffron and Pearls does the same for her husband’s family from Hyderabad, but with roots in both Persia and Uttar Pradesh. Zaiqa e-Kadwai provides a very different perspective. It is a team effort to document the food of a village in Ratnagiri district, where most of the families just happen to be Muslim, but their food is quite typically Konkani. Hazeena Syed’s Ravathur Recipes: With a Pinch of Love shows, in a very impressively produced volume, the food of this Tamil Muslim community.
These books show the food of these communities to be, as with all communities in a region, primarily dictated by what’s locally available, but with small tweaks. As Hassan’s husband’s family shows, at a more upper-class level there were more likely to be interactions with communities across countries, and recipes travel with daughters-inlaw, who are one of the least acknowledged agents for social change.
There is certainly a lot of meat eaten in all these communities, but the recipes are much simpler and subtler than what is served up to unthinking eaters as “Muslim” food. Meat is often cooked with vegetables as in the chuqandar gosht, beetroot and mutton; or keema kakdi, cucumbers and mince, given in Tehzeeb. There are inventive egg dishes, like boiled eggs stuffed with mince and then skewered, that Hassan discovers in Hyderabed, or eggs fried in gravy that are a favourite in Kadwai.
Other similarities might be slightly more use of some spices, like star anise, and less of others — hing rarely features since onions are widely used. Chefs will tell you that Muslims in their kitchens are particularly adept at frying, and that copper, with its excellent heat conduction, is the metal of choice for utensils. Many traditional vessels shown in these books are copper, and careful distinctions are made in types of frying: shallow, deep, braising and so on.
Books like these are important because, apart from the problems of unthinking stereotypes, the food of Indian Muslim communities faces another kind of obliterating pressure. Many cooks from the communities have gone to work in the Gulf and have picked up the kind of Lebanese-Arab food that is becoming a standard across the world. It is easy to produce, cheap and tasty enough and has the allure of being modern, rather than old-fashioned, labour-intensive home food. People shouldn’t be faulted for opting for what’s cheap and convenient, but it is important to remember, as these books remind us, that there are also other ways to nourish our roots.
source: http://www.economictimes.indiatimes.com / The Economic Times / Home> Business News> Magazines> Panache / by Vikram Doctor / ET Bureau / October 13th, 2019
While in Lucknow’s Chowk area, the quickest way to sate hunger is with a plate of Raheem’s nihari kulcha.
(What’s for Breakfast? (Above) Bilal Raheem Ahmad (in blue) at Raheem’s
When Umrao Jaan was being shot in the early 1980s, the cast and crew of the Rekha-starrer film would visit Raheem’s regularly. “I was too young then, so I don’t have any memory, but my father told me that the entire cast ate at our restaurant on more than one occasion and Farooq Shaikh had loved the nihari,” says Bilal Raheem Ahmad, one of five brothers who run the restaurant now.
At 8 pm in old Lucknow’s Chowk area, Raheem’s hotel is one of the busiest spots in the area. Most customers thronging the restaurant, in a basement near the Tehseen mosque, are there for the nihari kulcha — meat stew with baked flatbread. The nihari, which is traditionally a breakfast dish, is available all day at Raheem’s. In the alley leading to the restaurant, one can smell the kulchas being baked on the tandoor from a distance. After entering the basement, the aroma changes to that of slow-cooked meat.
Raheem’s nihari kulcha.
Bilal says the delicacy has always been the bestselling item at his restaurant, which was started by his great grandfather Haji Abdul Ghani in around 1920. The family belongs to old Lucknow’s Chowk area. The restaurant started selling the nihari kulcha in the 1940s under Haji Abdul Ghani’s son and Bilal’s grandfather Haji Abdul Raheem, after whom the restaurant is named. “It was Raheem sahab who invented the ghilaf kulcha which is served with the nihari,” says Bilal, 48, who generally sits at the restaurant’s counter every day from 5.30 pm to 11 pm.
After Haji Abdul Raheem, who ran the restaurant till 1983, the restaurant was taken over by Raheem’s father Fakruddin, who managed it till 2000, after which Bilal and his four brothers — Manzoor Ahmad (60), Mohammed Usama (47), Mohammed Shuaib (40) and Zaid Ahmad (37) — run it.
“The word ghilaf means a cover. The ghilaf kulcha has two layers which makes it so special. The upper layer has flour, ghee and creamy milk, while the lower layer has flour and yeast which makes the kulcha rise. The nihari is cooked overnight, for 6-7 hours, on very low heat over wood,” says Bilal.
He says, one of the most important aspects of his restaurant is the tehzeeb (etiquette). “We never return a customer without serving them. There are several madrasas for the poor near our restaurant. My grandfather Haji Abdul Raheem had written two points in his will — one was that we must always serve the poor and, second, that we will never ever compromise on the quality of the food. We are doing everything to follow his orders and hence, did not open a single branch,” says Bilal with a smile, while he returns change to 14-year-old Owais, who studies at the Furqania madrasa next to the Tehseen mosque.
The madrasa student says he comes to the restaurant almost every second day. “I get my own tiffin box and get one kulcha and some nihari for Rs 20,” says Owais, who belongs to neighbouring Barabanki district and stays at the residential madrasa.
The mutton nihari and two kulchas are priced at Rs 148, while the buffalo nihari and two kulchas for Rs 83. The paaya nihari, both mutton and buffalo, comes for an additional Rs 20. In between serving the evening crowd karara (crispy) kulchas, Habib Ahmad (62), who has been working at Raheem’s for the last 45 years, says, “The paaya nihari is mostly made with meat from the calf area.” The restaurant also sells mutton biryani for Rs 300 with four “big” pieces of mutton. Another bestseller is pasanda. A plate of nihari and two kulchas used to be sold at Rs 1.40 in the early 1980s when Habib started working there.
Bilal says, till date, the restaurant buys raw spices and uses them only after getting them cleaned and ground. “Our nihari has around 95 types of spices. We put them in a potli (bundle) and drop them into the nihari when the cooking starts. The recipe was given to us by our father, who got it from his grandfather Haji Raheem sahab,” says the co-owner. The meat used to make the nihari is bought daily. No artificial ingredients are used, and “it is only cooked in a copper deg (cauldron) with kalai (a layer of tin) on the outside. The kalai is a must for slow cooking. It doesn’t let the food burn,” he says, with a wry smile, before adding, “I can’t tell you what our spices are.”
Waiting for their “wholesome meal” at the restaurant are childhood friends — Umar Raza (44) and Azam Hussain (42) — both tailors. but Raza is getting annoyed by the delay, their order — two plates of steaming hot paaya nihari with a sprinkling of green coriander and chilli on top and one kulcha each — finally arrives and they start guzzling the food. They say they have been coming together to the restaurant for the past 15 years. “It is a filling meal which is the secret to our great health,” says Hussain, pointing to Raza’s bulging tummy.
Bilal says, people from “far-off” places come during Ramzan, when the restaurant remains open from iftar (meal eaten to break the fast) to sehri (pre-dawn meal before the fast). “Ramzan is when Lucknow and Chowk has the highest number of visitors. All the tables are occupied through the evening and nights,” says Bilal, adding that the next generation will continue to serve the food the way it has been served for almost a hundred years.
This article appeared in the print edition with the headline ‘A Plate of Sunshine’
source: http://www.indianexpress.com / The Indian Express / Home> Eye / by Asad Rehman / October 13th,2019
A detail of the ‘House of Bijapur’ genealogical painting depicting most of the rulers of the Adil Shahi dynasty of Bijapur. (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)
Although the Adil Shahi dynasty of Bijapur was formally Muslim, it was influenced by multiple religions and different identities
Such complicated realities were not unusual in the subcontinent, from Vijayanagar in the south to further north in Kashmir
In 1680, a few years before emperor Aurangzeb swallowed up the sultanate of Bijapur, two court artists in that city produced a striking genealogical painting. Rich in quality, with ink, watercolours, as well as gold and silver generously employed, the picture shows all the rulers of the doomed Adil Shahi dynasty, save for one who was blinded and discarded for not being up to the mark.
In the centre, on the throne, for instance, sits Yusuf, the man who sailed from Persia and founded the house with his Maratha wife in the 15th century: In a mark of the kingdom’s allegiance to the Shah of Iran (as opposed to the Mughals), Yusuf is shown receiving a key of sovereignty from the Iranian emperor. Then there is Ali, who appears in armour—a symbol of the role he played in the defeat of Vijayanagar in 1565—just as there is the boy-king Sikander, the smallest figure in the group, who would spend much of his life as Aurangzeb’s dethroned prisoner.
Created on the eve of the kingdom’s demise, the painting is at once a family tree but also, as one scholar puts it, a “painted curtain call” for the extraordinary Adil Shahi dynasty.
But the portrait is significant also in another way, in that it depicts the contrasts that can develop in the same ruling house and in interpretations of its official ideology. The Adil Shahi state was formally Muslim. From the start, however, it was influenced not only by multiple religions but also by different identities. So, for instance, Ismail (reign 1510-34) chose to highlight the family’s Persian heritage—he made his troops wear Iranian uniforms and himself adopted the 12-pointed cap, a reference, as the scholar Deborah Hutton notes, to the 12 imams of Shia Muslims.
Ibrahim II (reign 1580-1627), on the other hand, was Sunni and is depicted in a style associated with the Indian faction at court, a reflection of his own attitudes. He was, for example, not only a lover of Marathi (much to the horror of a Mughal envoy, who found Ibrahim’s Persian weak) but also a great admirer of Hindu traditions. It was he who proclaimed himself son of Saraswati and Ganapati, studied Sanskrit, and went to the extent of renaming Bijapur “Vidyapur” to honour his favourite goddess.
Only two generations divided the orthodox Shia Ismail from Sunni Ibrahim (who was rumoured to be secretly Hindu) but there was a world of difference in their outlook.
The Adil Shahs certainly presented themselves as good Muslim rulers—indeed, even Ibrahim’s grave carries an inscription denying rumours that he was an apostate, affirming that he was a true believer of the Prophet’s message. But as this column showed previously in the case of Hindu Vijayanagar, official identity and self-image did not preclude the absorption of multiple influences, or even contradictory practice. The Adil Shahs, even as Muslims, alternated between Sunnism and Shiism, and it was their latter identity that often supplied the Mughals an excuse to invade in the name of religion—this when even Aurangzeb, who led the final charge against the “heretics”, was himself the son of a Shia mother. Add to this a give and take of culture from not only the Marathas (including Shivaji’s father, who served the Adil Shahs) but also Ottomans, Europeans and African grandees at court, and Bijapur was confirmed as an eclectic, mixed universe—one where the king had a formal identity that he could interpret strictly or with deliberate laxity, depending both on his predilections and official necessities.
But in this the Adil Shahs were hardly unique. The rayas of Vijayanagar shaped their self-image in Sanskritic terms and declared themselves consciously Hindu. And yet, one of them sought a marriage alliance with Catholic Portugal; many of them used the title “sultan”; and their sartorial tastes and everyday lives were influenced visibly by Persian culture. A raya might keep the Quran in court so that his Muslim nobles could prostrate before it, even as he destroyed mosques in enemy territory—policy depended on the context in which the king found himself. Further north, in Kashmir too, as Richard Eaton shows in his India In The Persianate Age, we witness such ironies.
Sultan Sikander (reign 1389-1413), for instance, was a destroyer of Hindu shrines and burner of Sanskrit books. But his son Zain al-Abdin (reign 1420-70), officially as devout a Muslim as his father, implemented the opposite policy: Not only did he resume temple grants, but under him the court also witnessed an unprecedented production of Sanskrit literature, as well as translation of Hindu texts into Persian for the ruler’s edification.
The greatest controversy, of course, arises in understanding Tipu Sultan of Mysore. To some, he is a giver of grants to Hindu temples and a protector of his non-Muslim subjects. Others cite his cruel conquest of Malabar, where Hindus were forced to renounce their religion, their temples demolished. But, simply put, the question is not one of either/or: The same king could act in opposite ways in different settings.
In Malabar, its chiefs and people were “infidels”, but in his settled territories in Mysore, Tipu had no qualms employing “infidel” Brahmins (including the celebrated Purniah) as officials. One was a land of conquest, where destruction of significant shrines was, to him, legitimate, while forced conversions were a method of flaunting to the Islamic world his commitment to their faith; but in his home territory, he was king in a broader sense, accepting of the land’s realities as well as its people. A villain in one reading, he could be a hero in another, employing his religious identity in different degrees, determined largely by the contingencies of politics.
It was this complicated reality that the painters of that Adil Shahi family portrait inadvertently conveyed in their work: a house of Muslim kings with Maratha blood, who cheerfully switched sects as they desired, and whose dynastic roster included all types—those whose faith guided them to extremes, and others for whom religion was more a formality, engaging as they did with a land of diverse realities.
Medium Rare is a column on society, politics and history. Manu S. Pillai is the author of The Ivory Throne (2015) and Rebel Sultans (2018).
Twitter – @UnamPillai
source: http://www.livemint.com / Live Mint / Home> Explore> Medium Rare / by Manu S. Pillai / September 05th, 2019
The NCPA was keen to host it and Shapoorji Pallonji, the business conglomerate, keen to finance it. And both wanted a “big production”.
Priyanka Barve as Anarkali.
Mostly, perfection is elusive, unattainable. And yet, every society, every culture has something that is, simply, perfect.
Buildings, bridges, monuments, pieces of art, a song, a book, an athlete, a sportswoman or sportsman, a performance, an inning and, sometimes, a movie.
Based on Imtiaz Ali Taj’s 1922 play about the fictional love story of Salim and Anarkali, K. Asif’s Mughal-e-Azam — whose shooting first began in 1946, with Nargis as Anarkali and D.K. Sapru playing Salim, but released finally in 1960 with Dilip Kumar, Madhubala and Prithviraj Kapoor — is one such piece of perfection.
Feroz Abbas Khan, the first artistic director of Mumbai’s Prithvi Theatre and a veteran director with several plays to his credit, including Tumhari Amrita, admits as much. “Mughal-e-Azam, from the play to the script to the screenplay is a piece of literature. The script of Mughal-e-Azam is pitch perfect… It’s one film where everything is perfect. The acting, the screenplay, the dialogue, the music, the lyrics, the performances… And it has a dream cast — you can’t get a cast like that… Madhubala ko dekhiye, aur khatam uske pyaar mein… Mughal-e-Azam ek bahut badi cheez hai,” he says.
And yet, Khan dared to touch this piece of perfection, this sacrosanct icon.
In 2004, Khan was watching the colour version of Mughal-e-Azam when he had an audacious thought: It’s structured like a play and can be staged. But then there were other thoughts. “Sheesh Mahal kahan se aayega?”
It was something he wanted to do, but it didn’t seem possible. It needed a financier with deep pockets and deeper love for Mughal-e-Azam, a stage large enough, skilled production and lighting designers… And, yes, there was also a sense of what a gustakhi it would still be.
“You can do things which, agar nahin bhi theek hua toh log aapko muaf kar denge. Isme toh muafi ki koi gunjayesh hi nahin hai. Sazaye maut!” says Khan.
So for years, the idea of staging Mughal-e-Azam stayed in some corner of his head, circling around his restless to do a huge production, till a casual discussion at Mumbai’s NCPA sometime last year took him to Shapoorji Pallonji, the producers of the film who owned the rights.
The NCPA was keen to host it and Shapoorji Pallonji, the business conglomerate, keen to finance it. And both wanted a “big production”.
The sense of what a gustakhi it was now became a motivator.
“Gustakhi nahin… bewakoofi. Dekhiye aisa hai, ke aapki jo imagination hai, uska size chota kyun hona chahiye? Usmein toh koi paise lagte nahin hain? You have to aspire to be the biggest, the best, and then, somewhere between reality and utopia, you may get to the point of possibility… For me, unless I feel that this is going to go to a point that it could be the biggest disaster, unless I feel that it is something that is really challenging me, toh maza nahin aata mujhe.”
The challenge was to recreate the magic of Madhubala-Dilip Kumar romance, the high drama of a kaneez challenging Akbar the Great in bhari sabha, to pull off in two-and-a-half months of rehearsals what K. Asif had taken 14 years to do.
How do you do that, even if you find the same white ostrich feather and can play the recording of Bade Ghulam Ali Khan sahab? And are lucky enough to find an art designer who can simulate the heady dazzle of Sheesh Mahal which, in the original, required the headlights of 500 trucks?
You don’t. Because you can’t.
Because of the limitations of stage and time, because it’s all live, and because you have neither Dilip Kumar nor Madhubala, you don’t go for drama.
So Khan did the next best thing. He took 38 kathak dancers, added live singing and turned the epic romance into a stunning, spectacular musical.
With 350 cast and crew, 550 dresses, The Great Mughal became The Grand Musical which has run to full houses for four seasons (about 57 shows) in Mumbai, and, since September 9, has had packed shows at the 2,000-seater Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium.
According to Wikipedia, the premiere of K. Asif’s Mughal-e-Azam was held at the 1,100-seater Maratha Mandir in Mumbai where the Sheesh Mahal, transported from the studio, was on display. Outside the hall stood a 40-foot cut-out of Prithviraj Kapoor, and the film’s reels arrived on an decorated elephant, accompanied by the sound of bugles and shehnais.
In Delhi’s Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium, Khan had to remake all his sets from scratch because the stage here is 60 feet, whereas NCPA’s was 36 feet.
And to make the experience palatable and comfortable for the audience, who would be paying anywhere between `500 to `10,000 for a ticket, he had to redo the carpeting, improve the air conditioning, paint the facade and get the loos fixed.
The response has been so overwhelming that Khan has had to extended the Delhi schedule, adding five more shows over three days.
Mughal-e-Azam, the two-hour-15-minute musical is an opulent, nostalgic dance-drama which is beautiful and mesmerising when it’s singing and dancing. Its spectacle is spectacular.
But in moments of intimacy, in scenes with dialogue, it irritates those who have watched Dilip Kumar and Prithviraj Kapoor go head-to-head, and that despite a Salim (played by Dhanveer Singh), whose dialogue delivery and body language are mostly impressive.
The play’s scale is both, its strength and weakness.
The stark sparseness of two characters talking on a huge stage, arriving immediately after sensational dances that rise to an impressive crescendo, needed more drama. But that’s missing.
The actors, though well-rehearsed and speaking in trained diction, often sign off on a lame note. The exits are limp, especially Akbar’s. Anarkali’s body-language and energy is often the opposite of what’s required. In Pyar Kiya Toh Darna Kya, there was no defiance in her body movements, and in a dramatic scene, Salim walked as if on a languid stroll in a park.
Admittedly, this is nitpicking. These are just tiny details. But these small, careless moments get magnified when all that is happening on a 60-foot stage is two characters talking, or an angry Salim walking, and yet his heel-toe movements say nothing.
As Khan himself says, “Ek second bhi hamare liye agar galat hoga, ek empty second can become a minute on stage.”
But, he adds, his musical play works well at both levels — spectacle, and when it’s sparse — and that’s why it is so successful.
Khan credits that to the dialogue which, he says, at once have scale and invoke personal intimacy. “Jab Jodha bolti hai ke, ‘Hamara Hindustan koi tumhara dil nahin ki laundi jiski mallika bane’, and Salim says, ‘Mera dil bhi aapka Hindustan nahin jispar aap hukumat karein…’ Yeh kya hai? Large and personal. It’s in the dialogue.”
But then adds, “See, I’m never going to be totally happy. Because I think there’s still room to do better. But I think, finally, a nice balance has come and the girls are absolutely brilliant.”
After the scene where he irritates with his listless walk, Salim faints and falls so perfectly that it gets a round of applause. And then another song-dance comes on, and the play rises. Till it dips, to rise again… So it goes, dipping and rising, leaving you at the end with admiration for Salim, Anarkali’s live singing, a smile for the chirpy Suraiya, but above all teary-eyed respect for the 38 kathak dancers who create moments so perfect and magical with their feet and ghungroos that Lachhu Maharaj would be proud.
Feroz Abbas Khan attends most rehearsals, often with his eyes closed. Listening and moving his arms around, like a music conductor. He’s simultaneously conducting and imagining the rest — music, lights, costumes, the backdrop, the screens, the impact and the applause.
During the shows he makes notes in his diary under each character’s name and after the curtain call these notes are handed over.
“Har ek character ke naam pe notes bane hote hain, aur hamein end pe woh notes milte hain, ki, okay, tum yahan kamzor the, tumhein ye better karna hai… Mujhe last mila tha ki main jhuk ke chal raha tha… energy kam lagi,” says Dhanveer Singh.
The Mughal-e-Azam script that Khan loves so much was also subjected to his directorial nitpicking.
Khan, who has worked on women empowerment in entertainment, and whose TV serial on DD, Main Kuch Bhi Kar Sakti Hoon, is one of the most watched TV shows in the world, refused to let his female characters be shown as less than his male characters, whatever the hierarchy, situation.
“In the film Saleem slaps Anarkali. Bahar usko jootiyan pehnati hai… I cannot, just cannot, I cannot do this… Mere liye yeh gawara nahin tha ke main aaj ke time mein yeh karoonga. After all, it is imagined history,” says Khan.
So he took these bits out and added an extra dollop of chutzpah and ambition to Anarkali.
Khan’s Anarkali owns her ambition with impressive spunk when she wears the crown and says, “Hindustan ki Mallika toh main hi banongi.”
“Jodha also gives it to Akbar, nor does Anarkali stop at it. When she says, ‘Shahenshah ki behisaab baksheshon ke badle mein, yeh kaneez Jalaluddin Mohammad Akbar ko apna khoon maaf karti hai’, she doesn’t do it, pithy — Ki, ‘Maaf karti hoon’. Aise nahin. She’s (he gestures) “Jaa! Teri kya aukat hai. GO!”
“Ab dekhiye, yeh meri choice hai. Jo main kehta aa raha hoon, even for entertainment, you don’t necessarily have to do good, but you can do a little bit not bad. Maine jhapad nikal diya, toh play kuch kum hua kya?”
Priyanka Barve and Dhanveer Singh as Salim.
But before these girls, and boys, can flex and flaunt their characters’ chutzpah on stage, they had to undergo some mind games, or what Khan calls “exercises”, for him to gauge whether they can act, and if they can, then “kis gehrai tak”.
Khan, says Singh, is the kind of perfectionist who will not let his actors go to the next word till the previous one is to his satisfaction.
“Unko agar 100% chahiye, toh unko 100% hi chahiye. 99.9% bhi nahin chahiye.”
Khan is not short tempered, says Singh, “but everything about him is grand… unka gussa bhi, pyaar bhi, daant bhi”.
“Woh Mughal-e-Azam se itni mohabbat karte hain ki woh kehte hain, ‘Main kuch bhi bardasht kar sakta hoon, lekin Mughal-e-Azam itni bhi kutahi (negligence) nahin bardasht kar sakta’.”
This perfection ki khoj began early for Khan, and those he thought were not up to putting in the work, or would get distracted by the glamour were weeded out. Like a B-grade Hindi film star who was pretty, a decent dancer and a very decent singer, but had “started celebrating playing Anarkali without going through the process”.
Worse, she wanted to be treated like a star. “She was told in advance ki yahan, if I tell you to come at 8, and you come at 8.05, the gates are closed. You are standing out.”
The starlet was let go. She didn’t have it in her to become Feroz sahab’s Anarkali.
The ones who stayed had to go through the “exercises” for Khan to see if he could actually make them act.
Apart from the basic requirements of the play — that the girls had to be very good singers, very graceful — what was especially important to Khan was that they be sensitive enough to be prodded to become actors if they were not already. And many were not.
“They need to have the sensitivity for me to take them to those areas… they should be neither very cold nor very knotted, because then I won’t be able to access them,” says Khan.
Accessing, he says, is very important because “if you stop yourself from feeling, then how will you believe”.
“The most fundamental thing in acting is believing. When I look at an actor, I first understand the person, what’s gonna tick with him or her, and then trigger that. According to what the person is, I tailor my exercises…”
These exercises, which often push his actors to a point of breakdown, are necessary, he says, to also see if there is vulnerability.
“I don’t like sure-footed characters. Jab tak usmein vulnerability nahin hai, usmein aap ko dimension nahin milta hai. Jab woh bolta hai, ‘Taqdeerein badal jaati hai, zamana badal jaata hai, mulkon ki tarikh badal jaati hai, Shahenshah badal jaate hai… Magar mohabbat jis insaan ka daman thamti hai, woh insaan nahi badalta…’ Jab-tak usmein vulnerability nahin hogi, toh kahan se bolega?”
The applause will come, he says, because these dialogues were written for wah-wah and taaliyan, but without vulnerability in the character, “dialogue bus dialogue reh jayenge.”
After much insistence, Khan reluctantly relents and agrees to share one exercise.
“Bahut saari exercises hain, but I’ll just give you one example. It’s very interesting. This girl, Bahar, the second Bahar, I told her, tomorrow you come, I’m going to do some exercises with you… I had a girl with her. So you take her to a place, a room, where she has come to meet somebody. She meets somebody, and the guy says, I’m going to come back, I’ll leave you here. Then it’s dark… And then somebody comes and puts a cloth around her eyes and then on her mouth and now she is put around a chair and then… I’m giving her the suggestion that five men are now abusing her. One after the other, one after the other, one after the other… It’s all imagination. So I start saying that… they are abusing her, and abusing her… I keep seeing her, and putting up the temperature… to see how far, because some of them refuse to do anything. They think, it’s fun, nothing real. And some of them start believing, get affected immediately, so I know I need to stop there… This girl broke down very badly and for another hour
she just could not get over it. So I realised that she has that sensitivity.”
Zil-e-Elahi, as Khan’s actors refer to him behind his back, narrated two more exercises which were, thankfully, slightly less scary.
Boys get different types of exercises because “Ladkon ki sensitivity bahut kum hoti hai. Ladkon ko zayada waqt lagta hai. Unko bahut mujhe le jana padta hai, but le jata hoon unko bhi main.”
All this because, Khan believes, “agar aap nahin jalenge, toh audience kaise jalegi, zara mujhe bataiye…”
“Jab tak tum khud ko Salim nahin samjhoge, tum kuch kar nahin paoge. Jab tak tum us mohabbat mein nahin jaloge, toh dekhne waale nahin jalenge. Feroz Sir ki is line ne mujhe bahut help ki. Woh paseena jab tak mein apne hathon mein, body mein jalan mehsoos nahin karta hoon toh us din mujhe lagta hai ki maine achcha nahin kiya,” says Singh.
“Main sab ko ye kehta hoon. It’s a simple line… It goes to the heart of the problem. Like, for example, I also tell them, aap ko karna kya hai, aap soch leejiye — you want to impress or you want to actually express…”
Most of Feroz Abbas Khan’s actors picked one. The gustakh director decided that he would do both.
Mughal-e-Azam
Director: Feroz Abbas Khan
Presenters: NCPA, Shapoorji Pallonji
Cast: Nissar Khan (Akbar), Dhanveer Singh (Salim), Priyanka Barve and Neha Sargam (Anarkali), Ashima Mahajan (Bahar), Sonal Jha (Jodha)
Costumes: Manish Malhotra
Production Design: Neil Patel
Projection design: John Narun
Lighting design: David Lander
Choreography: Mayuri Upadhya
Music: Piyush Kanojia
Shows at Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium on Sept. 22, 23, 24, at 3 pm and 7 pm (except on Friday)
source: http://www.asianage.com / The Asian Age / Home> Life> Art / by Suparna Sharma / September 22nd, 2017
The HDW, which has been organized by the Telangana government in partnership with India Design Forum (IDF) and the World Design Organisation (WDO), is being held parallelly with the World Design Assembly
A trailer titled, ‘Ma Saheba – The queen of Hyderabad’, explores 360-degree VR animation as the latest technology of film
The technology enables the viewer to visit the Qutb Shahi tombs (necropolis) from the comfort of their own location, interacting with the landscape as if almost they were physically present there
Hyderabad:
A team from the Indian Institute of Technology-Hyderabad’s (IIT-H) department of design has created a Virtual Reality (VR) experience for an oral historical narrative of Begum Hayat Bakshi, one of the most influential historical figures of the Qutb Shahi dynasty (1518-1687), which founded Hyderabad (in 1591).
The story of Hayat Bakshi Begum is considered to be of women empowerment, given that she lived through the rule of three kings of the Qutb Shahi dynasty. A trailer titled, ‘Ma Saheba – The queen of Hyderabad’, explores 360-degree VR animation as the latest technology of film. Begum was the daughter of Mohammed Quli Qutb Shah (1580-1611), the founder of Hyderabad.
She was married to Mohammed Qutb Shah (1612-26), the nephew of (and king after) Mohammed Quli Shah. After the death of her husband, though her son Abdullah Qutb Shah (1626-71) became king, Hayat Bakshi Begum had a considerable influence over the affairs of the Golconda (or Qutb Shahi) kingdom, which was founded in 1518. The VR oral history narrative will be available for the public on 11 and 12 October in Hyderabad, as part of the ongoing (9 to 13 October) Hyderabad Design week (HDW).
The HDW, which has been organized by the Telangana government in partnership with India Design Forum (IDF) and the World Design Organisation (WDO), is being held parallelly with the World Design Assembly, which will be held in Hyderabad on 11 and 12 October.
“Using the premier technology in immersion, IIT-H developed a virtual exploratory landscape which lets the user experience the historical monuments (tombs, where the founders of Hyderabad and others from the kingdom are buried) of Qutb Shahi like never before. The use of virtual reality-based technology to preserve and explore history is a method that provides results with almost lifelike experiences,” said a press release from IIT-H on Wednesday.
Speaking about the initiative, Prof. Deepak John Mathew, head, department of design, IIT-H said, “This project is initiated with the support of the Design Innovation Centre at IIT Hyderabad. The objective is to create a Visual Model of the monuments in India. This is the first attempt in this series. This will be exhibited at the airport as well as HICC during the WDO Conference. This is a fusion of art and technology.”
The technology enables the viewer to visit the Qutb Shahi tombs (necropolis) from the comfort of their own location, interacting with the landscape as if almost they were physically present there. The installation aims at raising awareness about the intricate history of Hyderabad. The IIT-H’s department of design undertook a high-resolution scan of the tomb complex for the project.
source: http://www.livemint.com / Live Mint / Home> Explore / by Yunus Y. Lasania / October 09th, 2019
