tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88848708090019670642024-03-13T18:24:08.525+05:30desiderataIn which an Australian-born desi quits her job, sells her sofa, and moves to Bombay and then Delhi, husband in tow, to see the supercities through grown-up eyesdesideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-68317749399626055752011-01-03T00:44:00.002+05:302011-01-03T00:56:07.445+05:30Budapest's Széchenyi Baths<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TSDQf6hQPNI/AAAAAAAAAg4/cr-QXJqVceE/s1600/szechenyi_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TSDQf6hQPNI/AAAAAAAAAg4/cr-QXJqVceE/s400/szechenyi_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557671186878446802" /></a><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;">Trudging through snow while wearing swimmers is one thing; trudging through snow wearing swimmers and no shoes is quite another.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I'd been given slippers at the hotel, along with a towel and soap, along with the warning that they "tend to get slippery in the snow". That turned out to be true, and I'd given up trying to stay upright.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We were at Budapest's famous <a href="http://www.szechenyibath.com/">Széchenyi Baths</a>, the largest complex in the city and located within the City Park. It's a massive complex with a huge outdoor pool. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;">Tourists usually head to the Gellert Baths but the concierge promised that the Széchenyi experience was something special. And he was not wrong: the outside temperature hovered around -5ºC while the water was between 36ºC and 38º. This meant that there were vast plumes of steam rising up from the water, making it hard to see beyond the perimeter. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TSDQgEqryCI/AAAAAAAAAhA/fIufwuQMgkQ/s1600/szechenyi_inside.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TSDQgEqryCI/AAAAAAAAAhA/fIufwuQMgkQ/s400/szechenyi_inside.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557671189602355234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Lobby area</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></span></div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">After changing in one of the dozens of small booths inside, we held our breaths and dived outside, found a small patch of stone bench not covered in snow to dump our towels, and jumped in. It was scalding below neck, and freezing above (and even snowed lightly throughout). It sounds awful but it was fantastic, exhilarating, refreshing and warmed you up from the inside all at once. Plus, you're surrounded by an ornate, neo-Gothic 1920-era building (housing 14 more smaller pools), there is a bunch of men nearby playing chess, there are lovers taking advantage of the steam cloak to get amorous and the occasional screeching tourist to laugh at as they poke their bare feet through the snow or slipped over in their hotel slippers.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TSDQfp2FFZI/AAAAAAAAAgw/MpbWLm0zY1Y/s1600/szechenyi_1.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TSDQfp2FFZI/AAAAAAAAAgw/MpbWLm0zY1Y/s400/szechenyi_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557671182402393490" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></p><div><br /></div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-82912567142995453012010-12-30T11:03:00.007+05:302010-12-30T12:33:01.473+05:30Food porn: the Munich issue<div style="text-align: center;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></u></div><div style="text-align: left;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwtIOuEfTI/AAAAAAAAAgg/dOawM97bozg/s1600/market.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwtIOuEfTI/AAAAAAAAAgg/dOawM97bozg/s400/market.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556365659681881394" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></span></u></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Back in June, wilting under the scorching summer sun, I fantasised about being in snow, somewhere bitingly cold. A few weeks ago, I got my wish, with a short holiday to Munich and Budapest. The main objective was to visit the Christmas markets: I've never had a very Christmassy Christmas and just wanted to know what it would be like to actually, properly celebrate it. Growing up, my family never really celebrated Christmas, just a seafood lunch at home or at a friend's, and as soon as I started working I usually volunteered to work it for the penalties.</span></span></div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Our arrival in Munich was perfectly timed: day one of the city's famous sprawling Christmas markets. Despite an overnight flight we dumped our bags at the hotel (</span></span><a href="http://www.eurostarsgrandcentral.com/EN/hotel.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Eurostars</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">), closest train station Hackerbrücke) and went straight into town, where we stopped at the very first wurst stand we saw for two weisswurst in a bun, with a squirt of sweet mustard. That, after the horror congealed mess served up by Emirates, was the gastronomic highlight of the trip. It was chased by the first of what were to be many, many, mugs of steaming glühwein, redolent with cloves and cinnamon.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwsB4faI8I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/PW3EL_2a8FA/s1600/gluhwein.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwsB4faI8I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/PW3EL_2a8FA/s400/gluhwein.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556364451123962818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It didn't take long until we discovered the city food market, </span></span><a href="http://www.muenchen.de/Marktplatz/Markets/12596/01aviktualienmarkt.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Viktualienmarkt</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, not far from the central Marienplatz area, with its cosy, snow-coated stalls selling fresh meats, vegetables, plants, wines, cheeses, deli items and more, near a cobblestone laneway lined with cute quaint beer halls. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwrzgFGxbI/AAAAAAAAAgI/ofr9q7LPvws/s1600/cheese.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwrzgFGxbI/AAAAAAAAAgI/ofr9q7LPvws/s400/cheese.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556364204053022130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> It was here we planted ourselves for roughly the next day and a half, eating roast pork in buns with a dab of sweet mustard, weisswurst in buns with a dab of sweet mustard, gingerbread and more glühwein than you can imagine. In fact, for our last night in Munich we moved to </span></span><a href="http://www.hotel-am-markt.eu/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Hotel am Markt</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, a simple three-star with views out over the snowy market. We'd discovered it on the first night after searching the streets for </span></span><a href="http://www.bratwurstherzl.de/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Bratwurstherzl</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, which turned out to be opposite.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwsCJoqrcI/AAAAAAAAAgY/1GflqBKPv5s/s1600/hotel.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwsCJoqrcI/AAAAAAAAAgY/1GflqBKPv5s/s400/hotel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556364455726198210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">What a contrast Munich was to Delhi, with its dire infrastructure problems, its questionable cold storage making certain foods no-go zones and lack of pedestrian planning. Munich, possibly the best-planned city I've ever been to, was just such a relief, even in sub-zero snowy temperatures. And the food: it was a smorgasbord of all the things we can't access, or have limited access to, in Delhi (or are priced out of reasonable range, or need good refrigeration). Amazing chocolate, buttery custard-filled pastries, ham, sausage, beef, duck, an array of cheeses, nuts. Crusty bread, cheap and good wine, an array of local beers (without the </span></span><a href="http://techdigger.wordpress.com/2009/07/17/removing-glycerin-a-trick-to-make-your-indian-beer-taste-like-bud/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">glycerin additive</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">). Flavoured yoghurt, berries, clementines. One night we went to a beer hall in Haidhausen and there I couldn't choose between the pork knuckle, the roast pork and the roast duck. Luckily, one option was a mixed grill with </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">all three on one plate</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That was the night I got the meat sweats.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwtITwuDZI/AAAAAAAAAgo/JJ93aCJpp-4/s1600/stall.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TRwtITwuDZI/AAAAAAAAAgo/JJ93aCJpp-4/s400/stall.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556365661035171218" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></p><div><br /></div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-81402523810172962362010-12-19T23:17:00.008+05:302010-12-20T01:51:23.700+05:30Anish Kapoor in India, finally<div style="text-align: center;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></u></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TQ5Q_eE49vI/AAAAAAAAAfs/1xBI5Wpzl6U/s1600/entrance.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TQ5Q_eE49vI/AAAAAAAAAfs/1xBI5Wpzl6U/s400/entrance.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552464441929955058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></u></span></div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I suppose when you're a famous installation artist, second only perhaps to Damien Hirst in terms of popularity but far better in terms of talent, you are allowed to be a bit capricious.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Works by <a href="http://www.anishkapoor.com/index.htm">Anish Kapoor</a>, Indian-born, British-based sculpture superstar, are currently on show in Mumbai and <a href="http://www.anishkapoorindia.com/Index_Delhi.aspx">Delhi</a> at the Mehboob film studios in Bandra, and the <a href="http://ngmaindia.gov.in/">National Gallery of Modern Art</a> respectively.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Now this is a massive, massive deal for India's art world. In fact, organisers first had the idea a decade ago, and only now has it been possible. For starters, there was simply not the exhibition space large enough needed to show his massive works (In Delhi, the NGMA has a capacious new wing where it's showing the sculptures). It is also, as would be expected, an extremely expensive exercise. So to finally be in a position to put on show works by the artist who left India at 18 in his native country, is significant. There are even ads at bus shelters, pasted over the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">paan</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> stains.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Unfortunately, artists are an unpredictable lot. In the past I've had trouble with artists, in particular one fashion designer who got the shits when I asked him a question about his label's background. He ended the interview after I insisted I needed quotes from him, rather than lifting lines from the briefing notes I'd been given (sample: "Inhouse workshops insure an all-encompassing expression of our vision of beauty"). As the only vaguely usable quote I had from him - "my designs are a synthesis of East and West" - was not going to fill my 450 words, I sent a strongly-worded email to his PR and moved on to profile someone else.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In this case, Kapoor opted to cancel all interviews except for a handful. Now, this is the biggest thing to happen in India this year in arts, so naturally, dozens of journalists were clamouring for access to him. Is he shy? I like to give people the benefit of the doubt and assume that about them, if they're being a little difficult. The British Council, staging the exhibition, said he was concentrating on the preparations for the show beforehand - that is understandable. He would also be leaving Delhi almost immediately after the launch - on November 29 - so wouldn't be speaking to journalists afterwards either. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I was invited to the launch - my best opportunity to "grab Anish for a comment", according to the BC - but didn't go as I was overseas. Today, finally, I went to see the show at the NGMA, at its on sprawling grounds in central Delhi, near India Gate. It costs 150rs for foreigners, 10rs for locals. Inside, there's a string of rooms showing architectural models and sketches of some of Kapoor's large-scale works. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The larger sculptures are in the new wing out the back. The exhibits include the massive red wax quarter-orb that appears slammed against the wall, called </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Past, Present and Future</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. It's the most dramatic piece in the room, which also houses a stomach-height perspex cube, with what appears to be a gold stingray and bubbles suspended inside. The name of the work is </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Laboratory for a New Model. </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and the exhibition guide tells us that the sculpture "is addressing the weight of human knowledge, from the grand purposes of physics to the more specific concerns of art history." I'm sure it does do that - it must, as the booklet tells us so - but I confess, I couldn't really see </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">how</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I tried taking a photo of the room but as the ratio of security folk to viewers is roughly 1:1, I had little success, just this one:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TQ5Q_Fr6BpI/AAAAAAAAAfk/28RSMPkov9k/s1600/room.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TQ5Q_Fr6BpI/AAAAAAAAAfk/28RSMPkov9k/s400/room.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552464435382716050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Close to the mirror you might spot an earnest guard on his way over to berate me.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Outside in the garden is the much-vaunted </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Sky Mirror, </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">which is mounted a few metres above the ground and tilted at 60 degrees so it reflects the sky on its convex surface. </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TQ5Q_aStBhI/AAAAAAAAAf0/GaBYSSHTlls/s1600/skymirror2.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TQ5Q_aStBhI/AAAAAAAAAf0/GaBYSSHTlls/s400/skymirror2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552464440914150930" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It would be perfect if there was something going on in the sky, like moving clouds or birds, but all you see is the rather less impressive, tepid blue-grey of Delhi's winter sky. Around the back, however, you realise what it's all about:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TQ5Q_4rjywI/AAAAAAAAAf8/YPVhhmCZLc0/s1600/skymirror.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TQ5Q_4rjywI/AAAAAAAAAf8/YPVhhmCZLc0/s400/skymirror.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552464449071467266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">There's also a documentary on Kapoor being screened on a loop in the auditorium. In it, the floppy-haired Kapoor is revealed as enthusiastic and likeable, particularly in the bit when they practice firing red wax out of the cannon (</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Shooting Into The Corner</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, Mumbai). After the expectoration - leaving bright red splatters reminiscent of paan stains all over the freshly-whitewashed buildings of Connaught Place - he turns around, smiling cheekily at the camera, much like the grown-up boys of Mythbusters. Maybe the cannon ("an active part of the architecture: at once performance, process, painting, installation and sculpture, with the life of the piece being recorded on the walls") is all just a big boy toy with a fancy name.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-24121037096130431802010-12-06T01:04:00.005+05:302010-12-06T01:22:52.679+05:30Durag Niwas & the Sambhali Trust<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:12px;">Soon after making our spur of the Monday decision to go to Jodphur that weekend, I emailed a childhood friend who married into a Jodhpur family (but lives mostly in Mumbai) for suggestions on where to stay. She came back with <a href="http://raasjodhpur.com/">Raas</a> (way not an option unless you're an heiress) and the family-run guesthouse <a href="http://www.durag-niwas.com/index.html">Durag Niwas</a>.</span></div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPvs_gB7QII/AAAAAAAAAfY/HALCEA266Mg/s1600/duragniwas.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPvs_gB7QII/AAAAAAAAAfY/HALCEA266Mg/s400/duragniwas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547287941710823554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Durag Niwas is run by Govind Singh Rathore and his family, and is clean, cheap, has a lovely courtyard and friendly staff. It appears like a thousand other guesthouses throughout Rajasthan: clean, basic, with some kind of local flourish like a carved wooden chest or filmy fuchsia curtains, but has one clear point of difference: it's also home to the family's NGO, the <a href="http://www.sambhali-trust.org/">Sambhali Trust</a>.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Govind established Sambhali, as he shyly told it, when his mother and grandmother begged him to do something to help the beleaguered women of Rajasthan, in the wake of family difficulties that had left them with no idea what to do. Rajasthan is an extremely tradition-bound, feudal and patriarchal society, and Govind felt that by giving girls and women access to education, personal development and livelihoods, he could help improve their lot.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So Sambhali, which has been around for about four years now, looks after literacy and livelihood projects in Jodhpur and the outlying village of Setrawa, in the Thar desert. The women learn basic skills like to block-printing techniques, embroidery, English. Information on building confidence and anti-domestic violence and women's rights laws is also supplied through the centres.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It has been hard though, he told me, to convince the men of the family to allow their wives, sisters, daughters, to attend the classes: they sometimes have a vested interest in keeping their women downtrodden and ignorant.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Sambhali products can be available <a href="http://sambhali-trust.org/_sambhali-boutique,">here</a>. My friend is also in the process of setting up an online accessories store stocking products made by Sambhali, called<a href="http://fortyredbangles.com/"> Forty Red Bangles</a>.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Durag Niwas also runs excellent safaris out to the desert. Our Bishnoi village trip that ended up in an outdoor opium den may or may not have been with them, and the guy <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDq3v8IeI/AAAAAAAAAfA/JiNRKo27mVM/s1600/jodopium2.jpg">in the photo</a> drinking the opium water may or may not have been Govind's cousin Bunty.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-19457512224705764552010-11-30T23:50:00.002+05:302010-12-07T02:15:55.847+05:30The Opium Bores<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It had been billed as a half-day Bishnoi village safari, but turned out to be far more than that.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">With a half day to spare in Jodhpur between the end of the music festival and the train back to Delhi, a five-hour village tour sounded ideal. Plus, I have more than a passing interest in the Bishnois, a sect of Hindu eco warriors, who famously offer their heads in place of trees earmarked to be cut down.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Of course, being the morning after the night before we were already a little weary, so missed the 8am wakeup call by a half hour, but soon were away from the smog and noise of the city and heading off-road, on soft sands pockmarked by tufts of tundra.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The first stop was a small hut at the end of a barren stretch of road. It was home to a Bishnoi family. Only the children were home and we sat on a scratch camel hair rug and drank tea, but they shrugged when I tried to ask searing questions about their faith and devotion to living things.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The next stop - punctuated by a quick detour to check out at a local watering hole where migrating Siberian ibises had set up camp - was at the home of a master weaver, whose modest home, with blue paint flaking attractively off the timber beamed door, was like something out of a Taschen book.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDqDN7jRI/AAAAAAAAAeo/_D_wVOhA-mk/s400/jodhouse.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545483274618113298" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWD22idYqI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/4bR-lTFgNVs/s1600/jodwoman.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWD22idYqI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/4bR-lTFgNVs/s400/jodwoman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545483494552855202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">His recently bereaved wife and her granddaughter showed me their matching silver ankle bracelets, part of the traditional dowry of their community. They are soldered on at their marriage time and thereafter are never removed, even after their husbands pass on. Each anklet weighs half a kilo. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDpkLqStI/AAAAAAAAAeg/-eJ56m6dvds/s1600/jodankles.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDpkLqStI/AAAAAAAAAeg/-eJ56m6dvds/s400/jodankles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545483266287094482" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Next up was another village homestead, a cluster of well-maintained rustic huts in the midst of a courtyard, with a couple of open-air shaded shelters. This was home to the extended family of Baba Ram, a farmer of the Choudhury caste. Baba had worked hard to have the means to educate his sons, both now working at one of Jodhpur's best hospitals, a source of immense pride to their father.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDqayhkOI/AAAAAAAAAew/mtkYQFezb6c/s1600/jodhuts.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDqayhkOI/AAAAAAAAAew/mtkYQFezb6c/s400/jodhuts.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545483280945615074" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Despite the relative modesty of the buildings, the Choudhary family does well: inside the two enclosed built rooms (erected for the benefit of the sons' new wives) was an air cooler, a fridge, a TV, a DVD player and various other modernities.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDqkmmc3I/AAAAAAAAAe4/dT2OkNfPWvM/s1600/jodopium.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDqkmmc3I/AAAAAAAAAe4/dT2OkNfPWvM/s400/jodopium.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545483283579958130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Baba took us into another section with a roof covering made from bound branches, sat us down on a charpoy and pulled a small lump of opium from deep within his robes. Then he flaked off a bit into a wooden bowl, added water (Bisleri, for our benefit) and started rubbing vigorously to make a paste. This he then added to the top of a wooden contraption, added more water and offered it round, all the time chanting in praise of Shiva.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDq3v8IeI/AAAAAAAAAfA/JiNRKo27mVM/s1600/jodopium2.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWDq3v8IeI/AAAAAAAAAfA/JiNRKo27mVM/s400/jodopium2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545483288719401442" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWD2nfLSlI/AAAAAAAAAfI/azs69uM1BLs/s1600/jodram.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TPWD2nfLSlI/AAAAAAAAAfI/azs69uM1BLs/s400/jodram.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545483490512554578" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The opium ceremony, you see, is apparently to legitimise the repeated, ongoing use of opium by farmers to enable them to work the long, hard hours required.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Unfortunately it just tasted like mud to me and had no conceivable effect.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div> </div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-37808005765528166422010-11-25T23:24:00.005+05:302010-11-25T23:49:33.860+05:30Jodhpur for the music festival<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mwky9-6I/AAAAAAAAAeA/hCGI-ceXW0I/s1600/zenana.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mwky9-6I/AAAAAAAAAeA/hCGI-ceXW0I/s400/zenana.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543551544781044642" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I've had a few pinch-me-I-must-be-dreaming moments while in India. Barrelling down Marine Drive in a friend's car late at night, watching the lights of the Queen's Necklace twinkle. Watching the sun rise over Kanchenjunga from high on a mountain near Darjeeling. Drifting on the Keralan backwaters at twilight.</span></span></div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Now there's another to add to the list: sitting under the ramparts at a 550-year-old desert fort listening to master percussionist Pete Lockett jam with Rajasthani folk musicians.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It was late October in Jodhpur, at the so-called </span><a href="http://www.jodhpurfolkfestival.org/2010/webcast_day3.php"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Rajasthan International Folk Festival</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> (there was folk music, a lot of it, but it wasn't folksy in any way). I'd mentally bookmarked it at the start of the year when I'd seen a poster for it in Jaipur, and then promptly forgot about it till I got a notification on Facebook. Usually travel plans are scuppered by something, whether it be the inability to take a day off work, or train bookings, or hotel rooms, but all the ducks managed to line up and Jason and I got there on an overnight train, our very first trip to Jodhpur.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I do love Rajasthan, it's every cliche come to life but better because it's real. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The festival was on at the Mehrangarh Fort, which is not just large and imposing but extraordinarily well maintained. There's even a lift.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mxRbFqVI/AAAAAAAAAeY/mCYLRu4eXCE/s1600/mehrangarh.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mxRbFqVI/AAAAAAAAAeY/mCYLRu4eXCE/s400/mehrangarh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543551556760480082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The first must-see on my list was a session called Living Legends, held in the Moti Mahal, a small marble hall just off a courtyard, through a maze of rooms and hallways. I stupidly forgot my batteries, meaning I couldn't take photos nor record any of it. And it was marvellous: it turned out to feature Patashi Bhopi, the wife of a man called Mohan Bhopa who was featured in William Dalrymple's </span><a href="http://www.penguinbooksindia.com/category/Non_Fiction/Nine_Lives_9781408800614.aspx"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Nine Lives</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. The chapter on him told of how he and his wife were among just a few to be the custodians of the oral legend of the Rajasthani folk deity Pabuji, told in song that takes a day and a night to recite. Patashi Bhopi - now a widow - recited a few verses while her son played his rawanhatta and marched, duck-like, so the bells on his ankles tinkled in time. </span><a href="http://www.openthemagazine.com/article/arts/songs-on-their-last-breath"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(</span></a><i><a href="http://www.openthemagazine.com/article/arts/songs-on-their-last-breath"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">More reading)</span></a></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mwia1euI/AAAAAAAAAd4/Ca1UFruaOD4/s1600/bar.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mwia1euI/AAAAAAAAAd4/Ca1UFruaOD4/s400/bar.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543551544142953186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Then it was through a decorative arch to another courtyard where a bar was set up. So as the sun went down we looked up at the sky and all around at the intricately carved archways and up at the small windows where courtesans once hung out of, with wonder.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mxPqvppI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/kJS6fQnXPEw/s1600/wonder.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mxPqvppI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/kJS6fQnXPEw/s400/wonder.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543551556289275538" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Through another doorway and it was into a the main stage area. With floodlights up the sides of the fort walls and under the light of a full moon, a flamenco troupe from Barcelona danced and played and sung. Then they stood aside while Rajasthani folk musicians came on, with a </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ghoomer</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> dancer in a wide blue skirt seemingly made almost entirely of mirrors. When she spun around in a circle the skirt flared out around her, like an extremely reflective spinning top, around and around and around. Then the flamencos came back out and while the musicians all jammed together, the dancers had what amounted to a dance-off. And no amount of foot-stamping and arched-back hissing could match the girth of the skirt which almost swallowed the stage. Ghoomer well and truly won that one.</span></span></div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mwxtairI/AAAAAAAAAeI/DnkbSK2epl4/s1600/club.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TO6mwxtairI/AAAAAAAAAeI/DnkbSK2epl4/s400/club.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543551548247411378" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Afterwards, we headed to another area of the fort that was converted into a nightclub, a kind of open-air courtyard with a roof terrace from which you could lean over the shin-height barrier and look at the dancefloor below. Or you could lounge on a mattress, lean back on a bolster, and look up at the fort lit up by the moonlight as you sipped your g&t. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-74706728887539358642010-11-22T10:45:00.005+05:302010-11-22T11:49:32.378+05:30Kingdom of Dreams<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKHIKBzOI/AAAAAAAAAdY/b7f_oxfez3M/s1600/kingdomtheatre.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKHIKBzOI/AAAAAAAAAdY/b7f_oxfez3M/s400/kingdomtheatre.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542253408997723362" /></a></div><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"Come to Kingdom of Dreams," said my friend L. "It'll be fun. They say it's like Dilli Haat on steroids."</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.kingdomofdreams.in/">Kingdom of Dreams</a> is just that: a glittering dreamscape, a kind of alternate reality, like stepping into a movie set where everything looks like enhanced, hyper-real versions of how they otherwise are.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And then you flick the marble Doric columns and realise they're hollow, and made of Plaster of Paris.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But Kingdom of Dreams represents what the CWG structures could have been, were the games organised by the private sector. It's clean, it's grand, there are no caved-in ceilings or ripped carpet.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So what is it? It's a Bollywood theme park in Gurgaon, only open a couple of months.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKm1GhWzI/AAAAAAAAAdw/wkFMeC-CO48/s1600/kingdom1.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKm1GhWzI/AAAAAAAAAdw/wkFMeC-CO48/s400/kingdom1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542253953638554418" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 282px; " /></a></span></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Entrance to Kingdom of Dreams</span></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></span></span></div><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And iIt's enormous. There's a theatre, with plaster elephants flanking the entrance. Lying alongside is perhaps the largest reclining Buddha I've seen. Inside, there's a stage, surrounded by decorative masks and elephant heads and filagree work. That's where the Bollywood musical <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wC2QHQ6juYg">Zangoora</a> is staged.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But we didn't go to the theatre, instead we headed straight for Culture Gully, the bland name totally belying the experience. First, there's a giant representation of a lotus flower in bloom to walk through.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKkvJth_I/AAAAAAAAAdg/iTBnLeY1u5k/s1600/kingdomlotus.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKkvJth_I/AAAAAAAAAdg/iTBnLeY1u5k/s400/kingdomlotus.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542253917681584114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px; " /></a></span></span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 12px; ">Outside might be dark but inside you find yourself under a perennially twilight sky, thanks to a ceiling painted like sky and clever natural lighting.</span></div><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Culture Gully downstairs is made up of a heap of stands representing different states in India, laid out in a rough approximation of the map of India. So when you first walk in, there's Kashmir to the right, and Sikkim to the left, and Kerala right at the other end of the hall. </span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKloAUePI/AAAAAAAAAdo/ywLmT9XMhq0/s1600/kingdomboat.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKloAUePI/AAAAAAAAAdo/ywLmT9XMhq0/s400/kingdomboat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542253932943014130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Kerala stand: a bar on a boat, with a beach</span></i></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But these are no humble Dilli Haat food stalls, oh no. The Delhi stall is a mockup of the Red Fort , while Kerala is an actual houseboat, with a beach. Bombay is a train carriage, while Rajasthan has a peacock doorway just like the one at Jaipur's City Palace. Each stall is hawking either food, or souvenirs, or both.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Then, at various intervals, music starts up and out marches some kind of procession, such as a troupe of Himalayan dancers, complete with Chinese dragon. Or a clutch of monkey-men: dressed in silvery suits with blackened faces, these things were a menace, as monkeys are. One leapt in front of me and flailed his tongue menacingly, causing me to jump and nearly drop my kheema dosa.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKGWfoUiI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/sfPigNF19Ws/s1600/monkey.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TOoKGWfoUiI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/sfPigNF19Ws/s400/monkey.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542253395666555426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Crazy monkey man</span></i></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">U</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">pstairs is a bit more Palazzo Versace. There's a bar with a fluorescent pink floor, a shop selling incredibly expensive sherwanis and cufflinks and a whole other section with all sorts of fortune tellers. I had my palm read; he told me that good things will happen for me in coming months and I will have two children.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Since then, whenever i'm having a Bad India Day I think back to Kingdom of Dreams: its fake, Venice-in-Vegas sky, its larger-than-life religious statues, its fake twilight, and its liberal scattering of life-sized baby elephants, and think about life in a parallel India universe, and sigh. Clean streets, well-maintained buildings, space to walk, doormen who salute you, street theatre and hygenic street food.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But still, annoying and slathering monkeys when you least expect them.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Trebuchet; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-58449721710863822362010-10-04T21:04:00.003+05:302010-10-04T22:01:44.423+05:30Delhi's Commonwealth Games opening ceremony<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/usembassynewdelhi/5049699103/" title="CWG by U.S. Embassy New Delhi, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4108/5049699103_bd3c67c1a1.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="CWG" /></a><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><a href="http://news.oneindia.in/2010/08/06/i-wont-quit-suresh-kalmadi.html">Suresh Kalmadi</a> must know people hate him, but there's nothing like the sound of 50,000 people jeering you as you're trying to deliver your speech, your moment in the sun, at the start of the event you've engineered, to really drive that message home.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">But I doubt he cares, he likely has a house made of gold bricks to go home to, each brick stamped with a little Commonwealth Games logo.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">Kalmadi only really has two friends about now: his son, who is the part-owner of a company bringing F1 racing to India (in a deal brokered by his dad), and the owner of <a href="http://www.tajhotels.com/FoodandWine/The%20Taj%20Mahal%20Hotel,NEW%20DELHI/WASABI%20BY%20MORIMOTO/default.htm">Wasabi by Morimoto</a>, the uber-expensive Japanese restaurant at the <a href="http://www.tajhotels.com/Luxury/Taj">Taj Palace</a> hotel, where he apparently likes the sushi. A lot.</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">Still, the opening ceremony was truly spectacular: giant mendhi hands! A yoga demonstration! A colourful and oversized depiction of what it's like to get a train! It celebrated India through and through and I doubt there was a heart in that stadium that wasn't swelling with Jai Hind pride at being a desi. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Thanks US Embassy in Delhi for the image)</span></i></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-32053489098755551142010-10-03T02:05:00.005+05:302010-10-03T02:48:28.386+05:30Uncle was a disco dancer<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You know, when that cool cat lead singer of French electro-jazz group </span></span><a href="http://www.myspace.com/electrodeluxe"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Electro Deluxe</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, during their show at the outdoor amphitheatre at the</span></span><a href="http://delhitourism.nic.in/delhitourism/tourist_place/garden_of_five_senses.jsp"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Garden of Five Senses</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> last weekend, asked people to come up on stage to dance - what he actually meant was:<br /><br />"Yo hot girl in the purple boob tube with oh-so the swingy hips, come up on stage and dance. Dance I said!"<br /><br />And not:<br /><br />"Uncle-ji, head on up and show us how it was done in 1979."<br /><br />Stlll, to my mind uncleji had the best moves of the lot AND commendably ignored the control freakish commands to "slide to the left... now to the right."</span></span><br /><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='480' height='385' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxWhsorUHvfGEyGPJbrDjWVWmQCgyFtrN_XOvfTJDAqtQCU2sYZJPsxs7CWNdggzLmeFOGGXdaVTFZtSeI9_Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-59082687978856720832010-09-19T21:19:00.005+05:302010-09-19T23:14:44.546+05:30Foodie tour of Old Delhi<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I don't love Old Delhi but when given the chance to traverse Chandni Chowk with a celebrity chef on a culinary tour, even I realise the foolishness in refusing.</span></span></div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">More fool me though - I was still recovering and went against the advice of my doctor, who really just<i> doesn't understand</i> what it's like being a freelancer, and the experience of spending four hours in the maelstrom of the old city was enough to push me back inside the dengue pit.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Nevertheless it was a great day. It was a story for a UK magazine on restauranteur Marut Sikka, who owns two of Delhi's most evocative and creative restaurants - <a href="http://www.keya-kainoosh.com/test/">Magique</a> and <a href="http://www.keya-kainoosh.com/test/">Kainoosh</a>. He also has <a href="http://goodtimes.ndtv.com/GoodTimesShowPage.aspx?ShowID=9">a cooking show</a> on NDTV Good Times and a couple of cookbooks. The concept of the story was to have him introduce his food neighbourhood; although with Delhi being very spread out he chose Chandni Chowk in Old Delhi rather than his own neighbourhood.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TJZJkuxwbjI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/EfE6pacIv9s/s1600/sikka.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TJZJkuxwbjI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/EfE6pacIv9s/s400/sikka.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518679288769965618" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Marut Sikka in the back of a cycle rickshaw</span></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Together with a photographer flown up from Mumbai, we spent four hours pushing and shoving our way through the milk market, the spice market and various street food stalls. Not speaking Hindi, usually the nuances of these experiences escape me, so it was great to have a guide - especially one as enthusiastic and knowledgeable as Sikka.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TJZJj_dYheI/AAAAAAAAAcI/m9YEH2iECPU/s400/chole.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518679276068046306" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">The best chole batura stand in Old Delhi, according to Sikka</span></i></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TJZJjRHz8EI/AAAAAAAAAcA/kPWtV0JlA14/s1600/bark.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TJZJjRHz8EI/AAAAAAAAAcA/kPWtV0JlA14/s400/bark.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518679263629537346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i>Vendor at the spice market, selling bark used as an old-time toothbrush</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It was freaking exhausting, though. I fell asleep in the car on the way back to the restaurant where we still had to take his portrait shot and finish up my interview. I hope I didn't snore. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thankfully the day ended with dinner at Kainoosh: tandoori lobster, the smoothest galouti kebab I've ever tasted, lamb spare ribs, chicken leg stuffed with apricot-y mince and wrapped in pastry, fig kulfi and a cocktail designed just for me: a jasmine cardamom martini. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Then I woke up the next day with a throbbing head and aching limbs. The fever was back.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But it had been such a stellar day it was kind of worth it.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is me at the end of the day: slumped and exhausted and awaiting my jasmine-cardamom martini.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TJZJjMah9WI/AAAAAAAAAb4/rh4wtaG-3Vw/s1600/aartikainoosh.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TJZJjMah9WI/AAAAAAAAAb4/rh4wtaG-3Vw/s400/aartikainoosh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518679262365873506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><i>Last photo by <a href="http://www.chiaragoia.com/">Chiara Goia</a></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-49840147094066146492010-09-12T09:50:00.000+05:302010-09-12T09:50:00.491+05:30Dengue feverish<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dengue fever here is pronounced "deng-goo". Against my better nature, I have started saying it that way too, just to be understood.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And I've been saying it a lot this past week, as I have fallen victim to the seasonal scourge that plagues mosquito-ridden Delhi in monsoon time. Deng-goo.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It has not been pretty. There is nothing glamorous about deng-goo. It's all about sleeping endlessly, waking up for a round of projectile vomiting, sleeping some more, swallowing a handful of pills and trying to keep them down, staggering from the bed to the sofa only to pass out from the effort. Repeat for seven days, punctuated by platelet level tests in which some ham-fisted orderly jams what feels like a blunt needle into your arm. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The best bit is that as there is an epidemic - 1,500-odd official cases, far more in all likelihood - there is nary a hospital bed left in town. When I went to Supermax hospital in Saket on Sunday evening, the day I was struck down, they stuck me on the only spare bed in emergency, in the Resuscitation Room, and discussed loudly that they were only admitting the most serious patients. I caught a glimpse into the adjacent ward which looked like something out of WW2 with beds crammed in every which way.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There is also concern that platelet stocks might run low, so instead of admitting patients when their levels fall under 100, they've downgraded to 50. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We're just a few weeks out from the Commonwealth Games. The Games village is built on the banks of the Yamuna River - a major breeding ground for mosquitos. They've now called the army in to drain stagnant pools of water and fog the site before all the foreign athletes descend. For what it's worth, I don't think anyone should bother coming here. It's still raining, mosquitoes are out in force, the city remains a building site. </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-57953005198319764092010-08-29T23:20:00.007+05:302010-08-30T09:07:16.511+05:30Pushkar in the monsoon<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj3yQ93FI/AAAAAAAAAbI/acfB8IVDIXc/s1600/desert.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj3yQ93FI/AAAAAAAAAbI/acfB8IVDIXc/s400/desert.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510897272822291538" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Does anyone bother to visit Rajasthan in the monsoon? You should. When it's been raining solidly for six-odd weeks, as it has been, Rajasthan sheds its dusty dry desert skin and grows a dense, lush, green new covering. Rather than choking on dustballs, it's so humid you could chew the air. <a href="http://desiderata-mumbai.blogspot.com/2010/08/pushkar-camel-fair.html">Last November</a> Pushkar was so dry the famous lake was little more than a few desolate puddles; in August it was full to the brim again.</span></span></div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj4bko-oI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/_2AXUbghafU/s1600/lake.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj4bko-oI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/_2AXUbghafU/s400/lake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510897283910662786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Just a day and a half after returning to Delhi from <a href="http://desiderata-mumbai.blogspot.com/2010/08/back-to-hills-ranikhet_23.html">Ranikhet</a> a couple of weeks ago, I was back on another overnight train to Ajmer, the town adjoining Pushkar, to review a resort on the outskirts of town. I had planned to sleep, swim, play on the internet while sipping g&ts and go for long walks. Instead, it rained incessantly, the internet was not accessible on my Mac, and the hotel had me on a schedule: a tour of the town, dinner with the owners, an early morning camel ride, an ayurvedic massage. So instead of reading the New York Times online, posting photos of myself by the pool on Facebook and writing bits and pieces, I actually<i> did stuff</i>.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj3EZdkcI/AAAAAAAAAa4/QAtJd6yfxuk/s1600/camel.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj3EZdkcI/AAAAAAAAAa4/QAtJd6yfxuk/s400/camel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510897260509893058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This was my camel. He kept arching his neck back in a scary double-jointed manner to swat away the flies.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The ride went for a good hour and a half: I was well and truly over it halfway through and tempted to get down and walk, but didn't want to appear a wuss. Already, my travelling companions - two hotel workers - had laughed long and loud at me after I screamed when the camel stood up. </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqkbJnEs_I/AAAAAAAAAbg/zVBCEwJosgg/s1600/camel2.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqkbJnEs_I/AAAAAAAAAbg/zVBCEwJosgg/s400/camel2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510897880384451570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Because of my reaction, they'd opted to stick to the gravel rather than head for the off-road sands, because that is where camels can run free and wild. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">After the massage there was another run into Pushkar town, mainly because I wanted to revisit this stall near the temple:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj3tuw6_I/AAAAAAAAAbA/6pYbN1_m2vs/s1600/roseshop.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj3tuw6_I/AAAAAAAAAbA/6pYbN1_m2vs/s400/roseshop.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510897271605095410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It sold nothing but rose petal products: rose water, rose perfume, rose cordial and most of all, rose petal jam, or gulkand, which helps reduce body heat. It is also so sweet it makes your eyes water.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And then, finally, it was g&t time by the pool, listening to the peacocks cry and watching the sun go down behind the hills.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj4ljcj2I/AAAAAAAAAbY/grO7vZ08uYI/s1600/pool.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THqj4ljcj2I/AAAAAAAAAbY/grO7vZ08uYI/s400/pool.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510897286590009186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.thegreenhouseresort.com/"><i>The GreenHouse Resort</i></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Kishanpura Rd, Village Tilora</i></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Pushkar, Rajasthan</i></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>ph: +91 (0) 145 2300079</i></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>reservation@thegreenhouseresort.com</i></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-35849984045679406292010-08-23T17:32:00.001+05:302010-08-23T17:32:00.488+05:30Back to the hills: Ranikhet<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; ">(I wrote this two weeks ago but am very tardy in posting)</span></div><div><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Blue skies are rare in Delhi; usually the sky is glaringly white, or raincloud gray.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THFyhFRAAfI/AAAAAAAAAao/YRTOqqReHm4/s1600/ranikhet+view+long.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THFyhFRAAfI/AAAAAAAAAao/YRTOqqReHm4/s400/ranikhet+view+long.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508309731925557746" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Here in Ranikhet, a town in the foothills of the Himalayas, I am sitting on a swing on a balcony overlookinwg manga cartoon-green hills and valleys, under a beautiful blue sky.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THFyg5RYTtI/AAAAAAAAAag/XVz4nKViI3E/s1600/ranikhet+hills.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THFyg5RYTtI/AAAAAAAAAag/XVz4nKViI3E/s400/ranikhet+hills.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508309728705924818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It is paradisical. Butterflies keep fluttering past, occasionally joined by a dragonfly or three. There's a gentle breeze. Out in the distance, fluffy low-lying clouds hug the tops of distant mountains. The air is scented with pinecones and deodar. The only sounds are of birdsong and rustling leaves (discounting the tinny Bollywood muzak wafting from the restaurant).</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And it's all so, so clean.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I'm here, in this garrison army town in the state of Uttatranchal, on an icebreaker long weekend with a class I'll be teaching. For many of the kids (although they're postgrad, in their early 20s) it's their first trip to the hills. Some have rarely ventured outside Delhi. They keep calling me ma'am, like my maid. I now tell them, "Please don't call me ma'am, call me by my first name." They say, "Yes, of course, ma'am."</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THFyf5YEzmI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/PSnwL83am1s/s1600/ranikhet+balcony.jpg" style="text-decoration: none; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THFyf5YEzmI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/PSnwL83am1s/s400/ranikhet+balcony.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508309711554137698" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It is, without doubt, the loveliest place I've visited in the Himalayas so far, and quite probably the best in India. The hotel we're staying - <a href="http://woodsvillaresortranikhet.com/">Woodsvilla Resort</a> - is a bit out of town so is fairly quiet and isolated, although there's a cafe serving filter coffee about a 10-minute walk away.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">You have to understand, finding a well-dressed cafe serving half-decent coffee in a small, rather remote place like this is like finding a clean toilet at a dhaba, or an anti-corruption agitator on the Commonwealth Games organising committee.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THFygTzW-EI/AAAAAAAAAaY/owJ27-f5-jg/s1600/ranikhet+cafe.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THFygTzW-EI/AAAAAAAAAaY/owJ27-f5-jg/s400/ranikhet+cafe.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508309718647896130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p></div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-56192258236308818602010-08-21T22:46:00.002+05:302010-09-01T14:23:22.148+05:30Transport woes and monsoon lows<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THA2H-kksUI/AAAAAAAAAaI/9pPYBINv1Ok/s1600/traffic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/THA2H-kksUI/AAAAAAAAAaI/9pPYBINv1Ok/s400/traffic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507961854957498690" /></a><br /><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I don't have a car, and get about by autorickshaw most of the time, occasionally in taxis or when kind friends ferry me about. I don't love autos, but I deal with them, somehow. Now, in the midst of a patch of particularly heavy monsoonal rains, it's really quite tiresome. Last week, while holding a pile of heavy textbooks, my laptop and various other accoutrements, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: normal; ">I waited for an hour and a half for an available and willing auto to take me home, part of that time in the rain.</span></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Autos in Delhi are difficult. Rickshaw drivers operate on very narrow margins: most pay high vehicle rents (because there are a finite number of auto licenses in the city) and make 300 rupees on a good day ($US6.50). As a result, there is an inevitable haggle over the price: they often ask for two to three times (or more if I'm with a firangi) what the meter will show. Now that might be fun if you're a visitor to India, a prelude to taking a turn at the wheel yourself, but believe me, three times a day is not fun. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Taxis are also difficult. You won't see them out on the street like in Bombay, usually you have to find a taxi stand, haggle a price, and then be prepared to pay an extra 20 percent for air conditioning. They will tell you the meter is not working, or there is an extra charge for "luggage" (your laptop bag). </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.merucabs.com/">Meru Cabs</a> (AC, compulsory meters, clean, often English-speaking drivers) are a godsend (as are all the other so-called radio cabs) but you have to call and book, and often, particularly during these rainy days, they are booked out. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We have a driver with his own car on speed dial, whom we use regularly and have always had a great relationship with. He works full-time for an American woman who is often out of town, so he moonlights for us and others. He is great, entertaining and trustworthy, but sometimes his juggling act wears thin. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Like today. Despite having booked him many weeks ago for a Very Important Airport Pickup, he admitted yesterday his employer, who is abroad, had demanded he drive a friend around. Never mind that said friend is on an expat package, has her own car and driver and is perfectly capable of arranging her own transport, this woman blithely disregarded any notion that her charge might have made other arrangements for some extra cash.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It was the second time in a week she'd done it. Earlier he'd had a full day's work that he'd had to turn down because she had him do an airport pickup for a friend.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Later, when Jason saw him, this proud, strapping, Punjabi Sikh was in tears.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Of course, he is on her time, her dime. But if she is out of town, is it not okay for him to make some extra money on the side? She pays him 30,000 rupees per month, or around $US650. Apart from car repayments, he has a wife, a mother, five children, an alcoholic brother and his children to support. Who needs more help - his family, or her spoilt expat friends?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I'll tell you who - almost - lost out in today's equation, me. I convinced him to squeeze in my job, and we went to the airport to pick up my aging parents - my father is not a well man, just a few days out of hospital in London and with a dangerously infected diabetic foot. The rain was pelting down, the roads were swamped, in some places knee high, causing major traffic snarls. Inside the car, the temperature and stress levels were rising: would my driver have time to do my airport run and be on time for Spoilt Expat Friend? He then said, please get another taxi from the airport, I have to leave after we get there. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">No amount of pleading, cajoling, even blackmailing from me could get him to change his mind. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">At the airport I slammed the door and stomped off, umbrella aloft, and after finding my parents joined the long line for the pre-paid taxi booth. Shortly after, however, my cabbie had a change of heart, and took us home, racing off immediately so he could still make his other appointment. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So while I got what I wanted, the whole incident has just left a bad taste in my mouth. His employer leaves Delhi in a month, after which he is without a regular income, but until then he is beholden to her and her complete and utter lack of understanding and empathy. On the flipside, while I want him to do the best for himself and his family, I feel like my needs were not met. I am quite happy other times to do what it takes to help him out - whether it means hopping out of the car and into another waiting taxi so he can do another job, but there are times when I really need reliability.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I think the answer is to get a car and join the motoring fray. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-87075872075995436882010-08-18T09:11:00.000+05:302010-08-18T09:11:00.621+05:30The Pushkar camel fair<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmE_rKpioI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/GT5RdSJFdO4/s1600/people.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmE_rKpioI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/GT5RdSJFdO4/s400/people.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506078248891157122" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I visited Pushkar last year for the annual camel fair; by the time my group arrived the camel trading had wound up and all the villagers who'd descended upon the town were intent on just having good clean fun while spending all the money they'd made on the camels.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmEtDQJqOI/AAAAAAAAAZg/N8RitqWSrIA/s1600/welcome.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmEtDQJqOI/AAAAAAAAAZg/N8RitqWSrIA/s400/welcome.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506077928939170018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmEsgctVFI/AAAAAAAAAZY/nQDwubqXEiE/s1600/wheel.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmEsgctVFI/AAAAAAAAAZY/nQDwubqXEiE/s400/wheel.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506077919596598354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmFFWcnM2I/AAAAAAAAAaA/iqXAbFj5etw/s1600/tightrope.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmFFWcnM2I/AAAAAAAAAaA/iqXAbFj5etw/s400/tightrope.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506078346408571746" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Then, in early November, Pushkar was dry and dusty, the famous lake nothing more than a few desolate puddles. Nothing at all like the Buddha eye it is famed to represent. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmEtd70GqI/AAAAAAAAAZo/v6it3l2-iwU/s1600/pushkarlake.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmEtd70GqI/AAAAAAAAAZo/v6it3l2-iwU/s400/pushkarlake.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506077936101628578" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But the light was incredible: a soft pinky sheen that turned the desert sands a rosy colour.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I've just spent the past week travelling: first to the foothills of the Himalayas, then back to Pushkar. All my grand plans to blog from location were scuppered by a lack of a reliable interweb connection. I can't wait for the day when air will be wired.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmEthTyLzI/AAAAAAAAAZw/EE1zC-UMo8g/s1600/convoy.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGmEthTyLzI/AAAAAAAAAZw/EE1zC-UMo8g/s400/convoy.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506077937007472434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-25580309610791732862010-08-16T22:30:00.000+05:302010-08-16T23:11:25.918+05:30Monsoon Weeding<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGl3OmjZAcI/AAAAAAAAAZI/pJKdGtaP9Vc/s1600/4845158611_6e5438abcb_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGl3OmjZAcI/AAAAAAAAAZI/pJKdGtaP9Vc/s400/4845158611_6e5438abcb_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506063112188002754" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eaP-UrmS6Ww"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Moonsoon Weeding</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> was the title of a pirate DVD I bought in Sydney. I bought it and kept it, even though it didn't work, tickled by the syntax error in the title, picturing gardeners hard at work in the moonlit rain.</span></span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It's monsoon season here in Delhi. We were here for monsoon last year, but it was paltry, just a couple of days of downpour and then all over. This year it's on for young and old - and the weather bureau says rainfall will be roughly seven percent above average and that the monsoon will last longer.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGl3OY-NCxI/AAAAAAAAAZA/4oitSbdcDbw/s1600/4845158007_e2359978ab_b.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGl3OY-NCxI/AAAAAAAAAZA/4oitSbdcDbw/s400/4845158007_e2359978ab_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506063108542368530" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGl4HNolWJI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/7ioqJYt7RHM/s1600/4845157713_cebd90e9d4_z.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TGl4HNolWJI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/7ioqJYt7RHM/s400/4845157713_cebd90e9d4_z.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506064084751440018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Skies are grey and my hair is going crazy in these days of 97% humidity, but it's great: fresh and clean and damp, and under 30 degrees. Even when it's still relatively hot, it's still a treat to sit inside, tea in hand, listening to the rain thundering on the roof.</span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(photos: Jason Staines)</span></span></i></div></div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-14337907566650311152010-08-06T13:50:00.001+05:302010-08-06T13:50:00.328+05:30How to pack for a train trip in India<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;font-size:12px;">There is a single, salient truth about train travel in India: the further you are from the toilet, the better. That's why I always dance a little jig whenever I find that I am positioned close to the middle of the carriage. </span></div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Train travel here is a fine art. Those who've been doing it since childhood have it all figured out and know all the quirks: when a waitlisted ticket will definitely get confirmed, how to get the best seats, which trains are better than others. After perhaps 8 or 10 train journeys I'm slowly getting to know things. First rule of train travel: don't go to the toilet. The trip is far smoother if you don't. That might mean sipping rather than drinking water for the duration of the journey, but trust me on this one.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Another is how to pack. What you don't pack is as important as what you do - particularly as I sleep almost on top of my bag for safety.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I have a few short trips coming up in coming weeks so am doing a master pack now that I will then hone for each trip. I'm a bit loath to do a packing post - particularly after watching one such video post by a blogger I had previously admired, in which her key bit of advice was to <i>pack a toothbrush</i>. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But this may well turn up in Google searches and people probably do want to know - so here goes.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Silk sarong: this is an indispensible travel item regardless, but particularly useful on overnighting Indian trains. The sheets might be fresh and clean but still, I like a barrier. It's a sheet, a pillow, a pillowcase, a towel, a scarf, a shawl. It can also be a skirt, a tablecloth, a napkin, a veil or a blankie if you must. Three months backpacking in Greece when I was 21 introduced me to the many and varied uses of a sarong. I got mine a few years later in Goa, and it's been my travel staple ever since.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFks9Xvk0OI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/qVh4HoGik7M/s1600/51pBwtdpnkL._SL500_AA300_.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFks9Xvk0OI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/qVh4HoGik7M/s400/51pBwtdpnkL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501477852666974434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Book: the lighter the better. Forget <a href="http://www.amazon.com/India-After-Gandhi-History-Democracy/dp/0060198818">India After Gandhi</a>, you will curse it as you struggle through tight corridors and slender doorways. My ideal train read would be something light-spined but meaty, say a Penguin Classic such as Evelyn Waugh's <a href="http://www.penguinclassics.co.uk/nf/Book/BookDisplay/0,,9780141187495,00.html?Scoop_Evelyn_Waugh">Scoop</a>. However a review of <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Far-Horizons-Frank-Gardner/dp/0593059689">Frank Gardner's latest</a> is due next week, so that's what's in my bag.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFks9lcA_lI/AAAAAAAAAYY/PGgjmxIcgBY/s1600/312-1219.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFks9lcA_lI/AAAAAAAAAYY/PGgjmxIcgBY/s400/312-1219.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501477856343031378" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 203px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Earplugs: Sod's law means you will always end up in the compartment with a snorer.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Tripod (optional): To combat the above menace, a camera tripod can - and has - been used, with minimal force of course, to gently prod the snoree into remembering to roll over.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFks93WtenI/AAAAAAAAAYg/frxRlG5fT7g/s1600/Caudalie+Eau+De+Beaute.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFks93WtenI/AAAAAAAAAYg/frxRlG5fT7g/s400/Caudalie+Eau+De+Beaute.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501477861152619122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 398px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Spray fragrance: The carriages might be old and rickety but they're usually clean and, if you're away from the toilet, olefactorily neutral. Nevertheless it is nice to be reminded that nice scents do exist. I usually carry Caudalie's <a href="http://www.caudalie.com/uk/idees-cadeaux/eau-de-beaute.html">Eau de Beaute</a>, which doubles as a face spray, but it was recently nicked by my evil maid. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFks-TJfutI/AAAAAAAAAYo/8XVHLy9btWY/s1600/images.jpeg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFks-TJfutI/AAAAAAAAAYo/8XVHLy9btWY/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501477868613384914" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 245px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">iPod/iPhone (optional): If you have one. I don't. I hate anyone who does. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">Toilet paper: for if you really must venture that way.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Soap, hand sanitiser, other toiletries: I don't need to tell you this. Surely y'all know to bring a toothbrush.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-9561643668788029232010-08-04T12:33:00.000+05:302010-08-04T12:33:00.160+05:30Art from Cochin, Kerala<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', serif; font-size: small; ">Cochin (or Kochi) is emerging as a bit of an art hub: just like Soho or Wollahra, but without the jaw-dropping prices, stark white walls, carefully tilted lighting, gallerinas and having to pretend you understand the meaning of, say, a sculpture made out of jelly babies. Rather, you'll find art on cafe walls, piles and stacks in the back rooms of shops, and in modest galleries in the back streets of Jewtown.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Last year while in Cochin, we were in a cafe watching the rain bucketing down and drinking tea when we struck up a conversation with the owners. Did we want plantation-fresh vanilla beans? Were we interested in checking out some art? Yes and yes, so upstairs we went. There, we found ourselves in a capacious room flooded with natural light, in amongst hundreds of paintings and drawings.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Immediately I was drawn to this one:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFf8shufpJI/AAAAAAAAAXo/pwSOoNghztg/s1600/camels.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFf8shufpJI/AAAAAAAAAXo/pwSOoNghztg/s400/camels.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501143311754175634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It shows camels at a beauty contest. I liked the bright colours, the expressions on their faces, the scale and the detail. It's by a local artist called Appu Vennikkal, who also painted another canvas of big bright green leaves, a single pink flower and a girl's face in the corner, that I was also drawn to.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Jason hated it.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">His choice?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFf8sePCiCI/AAAAAAAAAXg/a7cFDVY5JtE/s1600/cycle.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFf8sePCiCI/AAAAAAAAAXg/a7cFDVY5JtE/s400/cycle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501143310816938018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 367px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One of a series of moody oils of rickshaw-studded streetscapes. I am such an art novice I didn't even think to write down the name of the artist. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We spent two days working our way through this room and another showroom owned by the same people, but kept coming back to these two paintings. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now, they're hanging in our flat. Visitors tend to gravitate towards Jason's painting, politely murmuring "yes it's very interesting" when I ask if they like the camels, but I still love it. Even Jason came round, eventually.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Darshan Art Cafe </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">6/74 Jewtown, Cochin</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">0091-484-2222544 / 098474 78882 </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">saadameen@gmail.com</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Then there's...</span></span></div><div><a href="http://www.kashiartgallery.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Kashi Art Gallery</span></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We stayed at </span></span><a href="http://www.malabarhouse.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Malabar House </span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> (an anniversary blowout)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Another hotel is the </span></span><a href="http://www.cghearth.com/brunton_boatyard/brunton_boatyard_reception.htm"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Brunton Boatyard</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, which has a great restaurant with an outdoor section that's right on the water. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Years ago I ate dinner in a gorgeous little cobblestone courtyard restaurant and never forgot it, and this time went around Cochin describing it, hoping to find it again. Naturally, it turned out to be called </span></span><a href="https://www.oldcourtyard.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Old Courtyard</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-22085986126490216062010-08-02T22:17:00.008+05:302010-08-02T23:18:42.822+05:30In Search of Delhi's last Blue Potter<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCoqcUMFI/AAAAAAAAAW4/jl2A12J1-Js/s1600/gate.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCoqcUMFI/AAAAAAAAAW4/jl2A12J1-Js/s400/gate.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500868367467425874" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It suits to go into Old Delhi with a mission. Why else would one bother to venture into that teeming squalid tangle of tiny lanes? For fun? For the pleasure of eating a deep-fried parantha cooked on the street at </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gali_Paranthe_Wali"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Parantha Wali Gali</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">, in the midst of millions of invisible flecks of flying fecal matter? It's really not all that, no matter how the guidebooks might try to romanticise it. It just makes you feel grubby.</span></span></div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But there is one quite decent way to see it: perched four feet off the street in a cycle rickshaw that's winding it's way through off-the-map back alleys. There's lots to see, and your chappals aren't being cakes in goat poo.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCo2bCCsI/AAAAAAAAAXA/CX24x89aJXs/s1600/goats.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCo2bCCsI/AAAAAAAAAXA/CX24x89aJXs/s400/goats.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500868370683267778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And there are goats, lots of them, everywhere. With my feet jammed against the footstop (the cycle rickshaws of Old Delhi have no sides, making a journey in them a precarious folly at times) I spotted countless animals, here in the heart of the city. After a while, when the goats become ho-hum, you suddenly spot a flash of glossy black. There, in an alleyside pen the size of a bathroom, are three water buffaloes.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And then, in amongst the cycle and pedestrian traffic, comes an ox cart.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">was</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> there on a mission: to seek out the last Delhi Blue potter, a practitioner of a style of pottery that's a hangover from the days of the Mughals. You might have spotted faded turquoise tiles on various monuments around the city: that's Delhi Blue.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">In fact it's just the local, British-given name for the Persian Blue tiles of the Islamic world: from Samarkhand, to Isfahan, to Kabul. The style wound its way across to India, where potters settled in a village in Uttar Pradesh called </span></span><a href="http://www.khurja.co.in/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Khurja</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">, still known as a pottery hub. Delhi Blue pottery is made from a mixture of crushed minerals, while the lapiz lazuli-like blue colour comes from cobalt oxide that is cast in a mould and then glazed. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Now I am not sure whether it's the common Jaipur blue pottery with the yellow flowers you can get easily at any souvenir shop or Dilli Haat - I think most likely not, but there is only one way to find out. And that's how I found myself perched precariously on the back of a cycle rickshaw in Old Delhi. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The details I had were sketchy. All I knew was that the man called Hazarilal lived somewhere in Hauz Sulaiwan, in one of the alleys behind the southern Turkman Gate entrance. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcEj-qgYkI/AAAAAAAAAXY/sC00bXLWFrA/s1600/turkman.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcEj-qgYkI/AAAAAAAAAXY/sC00bXLWFrA/s400/turkman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500870486019564098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Turkman Gate is ideally positioned right next to the Delhi Stock Exchange, an image that no doubt will feature in many Delhi: Old and New feature stories in coming months, as the Commonwealth Games approach.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCoFcPOxI/AAAAAAAAAWw/COt1OQa92BQ/s1600/dse.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCoFcPOxI/AAAAAAAAAWw/COt1OQa92BQ/s400/dse.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500868357534989074" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Here, I hopped out of the rickshaw and shuffled my way through the hordes of people through the gates to the left of the arch. Where was Hazarilal? I suddenly realised exactly how daunting this little endeavour was. So I stopped and asked these guys, in one of a number of hole-in-the-wall stalls lining the main road into the old town, if they knew him. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCpJqT2eI/AAAAAAAAAXI/fUdpfnNnLXY/s1600/guys.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCpJqT2eI/AAAAAAAAAXI/fUdpfnNnLXY/s400/guys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500868375847623138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It was a long shot, but it turned out they did and even knew where he lived. They flagged down a cycle rickshaw for me and instructed him where to go - Hazarilal's home/studio was a good kilometre away: and there was little chance I would have been able to find it myself.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Each time I'd been to Old Delhi before I'd been to the area around Chandni Chowk and the Jama Masjid, but this route took me through winding back streets that were well off the tourist map. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It was schools-out time, so every few minutes we passed another cycle rickshaw carrying up to a dozen schoolchildren squeezed into every corner of the vehicle. </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCpvbkIII/AAAAAAAAAXQ/vPk8hHjgF-I/s1600/kids.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TFcCpvbkIII/AAAAAAAAAXQ/vPk8hHjgF-I/s400/kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500868385986322562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Ploughing deeper and deeper into the bowels of the old walled town, I started to get nervous. Would I ever be able to find my way out? Then the cyclist stopped. We were at Hauz Suiwalan, a small 'neighbourhood': really, a collection of maze-like streets. He asked around. I flourished a sign I'd had the foresight to prepare with 'Hazarilal' written clearly. Curious passersby shrugged, not knowing and not bothering to lie. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Then one guy pulled out a cellphone. He knew Hazarilal and his grandson. "Where are they?" I asked excitedly.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">He shook his head. "Not here, they've moved,"</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Turns out, Hazarilal, the last in a line of blue potters who've lived in Old Delhi since Mughal times, a year ago made the move to suburbia: decidedly less colourful, but far more comfortable.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I'm due to visit sometime in the next week; stay tuned for part two. </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-29558030914121295432010-07-24T08:18:00.001+05:302010-07-24T10:21:08.090+05:30Retail therapy: CMYK bookstore<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Out the front of CMYK bookshop, in inner-central Delhi, there's a long ditch where they're digging up the sewer which runs along several shopfronts. In the Delhi summer heat the overwhelming miasma of sweet refuse takes hold.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">To get inside the shop you have to gingerly sidestep the lactating street dog and her suckling pups, make sure you don't fall in the ditch, and navigate around it to a small set of steps.</span></span></div><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 16px/normal Georgia; min-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 16px/normal Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Inside CMYK and it's a whole other world.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEnwVHggFyI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Mq7w87cbTWM/s1600/cmykinside.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEnwVHggFyI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Mq7w87cbTWM/s400/cmykinside.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497189065765689122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">With books displayed on shelves and on tables, it's perfect for a lengthy browsing session. CMYK – named for the four colours used in printing (cyan, magenta, yellow and black) – is a modern, grey-toned, downlit and minimalist space. Unlike most cramped bookshops, this one is spacious and high-ceilinged, calm and quiet.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">CMYK is an art and design focused shop, unveiled last September mainly as a vehicle to give the books of its parent publishing company, </span><a href="http://rolibooks.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Roli Books</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, prominent positioning. (Roli Books books are about 30% of the stock; there's also Taschen, Phaidon and other major international houses).</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Every time I go to CMYK I stay for around an hour, browsing through the collection of books like</span><a href="http://www.phaidon.com/store/food-cook/i-know-how-to-cook-9780714848044"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> I Know How To Cook</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> and </span><a href="http://www.google.co.in/images?client=safari&rls=en&q=raghu+Rai&oe=UTF-8&redir_esc=&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=pOdJTMGCGMSvcKSJ_J4M&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CDsQsAQwAw"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Raghu Rai</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> photography tomes. No one stops me, or asks me if I want them to put the book aside, or want it in another colour.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">CMYK is ideally positioned in an up-and-coming area: the Mehar Chand Market, very close to Lodi Colony and right behind Delhi's cultural hub, the India Habitat Centre.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Here's a handy map:</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEnwVQ8rNoI/AAAAAAAAAWk/qbkZugYNXQY/s1600/cmykmap.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEnwVQ8rNoI/AAAAAAAAAWk/qbkZugYNXQY/s400/cmykmap.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497189068299777666" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 281px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Roli Books, which is a small family owned publishing house, has big plans for CMYK: there are plans afoot to take the concept to seven cities. First off will likely be Mumbai, where they are set to open a store-within-a-store at Bungalow 8. Next on the list are Goa, Bangalore, Gurgaon.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But for now, visitors to Delhi should most definitely add it to their must-visit list. I'm sure the sewage works will be done by then.</span></span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-70461159250617565602010-07-21T23:09:00.006+05:302010-07-21T23:24:27.705+05:30desiderata book club: In the Valley of Mist<div style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;font-size:12px;">I spent much of the <a href="http://desiderata-mumbai.blogspot.com/2010/07/travels-in-hills-mussoorie.html">weekend in Mussoorie</a> with my head stuck inside this book:</span></div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEcyjshAN6I/AAAAAAAAAWU/3pm_Wt1FZDU/s1600/uk_pb_small.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEcyjshAN6I/AAAAAAAAAWU/3pm_Wt1FZDU/s400/uk_pb_small.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496417459055376290" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 314px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It's <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-Mist-Kashmirs-Familys-Extraordinary/dp/1846041465">In The Valley of Mist</a>, by British writer and journalist <a href="http://www.justinehardy.com/">Justine Hardy</a>.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It's non-fiction, about the trials of a family in Kashmir and how they managed to survive the violence of the past two decades, as a bloody conflict has raged there, mainly between Kashmiri separatists and the Indian military.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But far from being a dry, fact-based account, Hardy takes readers deep inside the insurgency thanks to her deep knowledge gained from years of travelling to the region. The book opens with a vignette of her and her mother in the late 1980s, shopping in central Srinagar wearing shorts and t-shirts. A year and a half later, when she next visits, she does so with her face and head covered, as the conflict had, in that short time, deepened and religious fanatics closed in.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The Valley of Mist doesn't give a comprehensive, blow by blow account of the conflict, but what it does give is a searing, honest depiction of how events have shaped the lives of this one family, how they have affected the lives of others in the region:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"></span></i></span></p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>"From the top of the meadow the calls to prayer come from every direction, and at all angles across the lake, from the Shi'a mosque to the left side of the local bazaar, and from the two Sunni ones towards the right and rear side. Silence followed.</i></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><i><br /></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Up until 1990 the evening call to prayer was accompanied by bells ringing from Shiva temples around the city. As the azaan finished the bells would continue for aarti, evening prayer. The sounds wound together.</i></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Children born in Kashmir since 1989 have not heard that song of symbiosis. Just as the young Pandits (Kashmiri Hindus) in the refugee camps have only their parents' memories to portray the homes they felt forced to leave, so too do young Kashmir Valley Muslims have only stories and old photograph albums as proof of how it used to be before they were born."</i></span></span></p></blockquote> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I couldn't put it down. In particular I appreciated that Hardy holds back - for the most part - from placing herself front and centre, rather, she depicts herself as a sideline character: observing and digesting, not judging. Only towards the end does her presence become more pronounced, her opinions more sharply outlined.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Given the current conditions in Kashmir, In the Valley of Mist is an ideal way to get inside the conflict without having to wade through <a href="http://www.flashpoints.info/countries-conflicts/Kashmir-India_vs_Pakistan-web/Kashmir-India_vs_briefing.html">something like this</a>, or <a href="http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?266274)">even this</a>.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-83067491536535596452010-07-20T20:13:00.003+05:302010-07-20T20:44:50.945+05:30Travels in the hills: Mussoorie<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The hill station of Mussoorie, they say, is imbued with history at every turn: it was the place where British soldiers, stationed in India under the Raj, would come to, ahem, play away, often with the wives of their superiors. There's even a Scandal Point lookout.</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />The guidebooks describe Mussoorie as a fairyland, an ideal honeymoon spot, a peaceful, scenic spot for quiet contemplation.<br /><br />In reality, visiting Mussoorie is an exercise in tempering expectation with reality.<br /><br />I'd bought into the myth and had been desperately looking forward to escaping Delhi and its pressures for a long weekend in the cool of the hills. As it turned out, it was cool, it was misty, it was damp - but it was not peaceful, far from it.<br /><br /></span></span><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEW8O4--RZI/AAAAAAAAAVw/qr_CjmCm3HY/s1600/street.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEW8O4--RZI/AAAAAAAAAVw/qr_CjmCm3HY/s400/street.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496005884276262290" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />Hill station streets weren't built for traffic. They were built for donkeys, carts, foot traffic. You won't be finding no dual carriageways or divided streets or white lines on those narrow hill station roads. Granted - there was a barrier along the side for much of the way of the drive up the hill - reassuring for me, after far too many drives on zigzaggy, landslide prone mountain passes - but there's very little space.<br /><br />Surprising, then, that town elders haven't thought to ban traffic from the main drag, The Mall. It's about five metres wide, lined with shops and as crowded a marketplace as anywhere else in India, but you can't walk more than a few steps before being forced to lurch steeply to the side into the gutter to make way for a screeching moped or car or 4x4. And the worse thing is the endless horning and beeping, right in your ear. Drivers just do not care. It's law of the jungle, and the bigger the wheels, the louder the horn, the higher up the food chain you are. Much like any Delhi street, but </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">right up close in your ear</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.<br /><br />So much for my plans to meander around town in a daze.<br /><br />After a tipoff from a friend, I had booked into a hotel, the </span></span><a href="http://www.rinkpavilion.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Rink Pavillion</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. It's a quirky hotel, surprisingly not mentioned in any guidebooks or websites. What makes it unique is that it is built around a 19th century skating rink that was also, back in the day, used for everything from dog shows to Shakespearean plays to balls. Go on, click on the link. Doesn't it look marvellous, atmospheric and not at all rundown? That's not the reality. The reality is, it's a bit of a dump. Yes there's a skating rink and that's quite cool, but it's dark, faded, badly maintained and has an overall air of neglect. The room itself was murky, with a sagging mattress and a dusty bathtub. Not quite the thing for a romantic weekend away in the hills. (Although, under other circumstances I think it would be quite a cool and fun place to stay - so long as you know what you're in for).<br /><br />We managed to get out of the booking by paying 500 rupees, and moved to the second choice, </span></span><a href="http://www.karmavilas.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Karma Vilas</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, which turned out to be wonderful, with searing views over the valley - once the fog cleared.<br /><br />After about a day we finally wised up: stay away from The Mall, and head for the hills. Landour, that is, a cantonment area up high which means there can be no rampant building of illegal concrete boxes. There are still vehicles screaming up and down the hill but less so than down below, and there are a handful of fun antique shops where you can easily blow a few thousand rupees on, say, a Burmese incense holder, a Raj-era carriage clock or a print of a famous painting by a famous Bengali artist whose name the shop owner can't quite remember.<br /><br />Another good spot is Sister Bazaar, for sights like this:<br /><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEW8OIxLK1I/AAAAAAAAAVg/I6298HSe4os/s1600/sisterbazaar.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEW8OIxLK1I/AAAAAAAAAVg/I6298HSe4os/s400/sisterbazaar.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496005871333485394" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />But if you are planning to go to Mussoorie for a weekend, ignore any guidebook that only shows you photos pointing upwards:<br /><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEW8OtzsiQI/AAAAAAAAAVo/aB3WJ3HrQVI/s1600/misty.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IQhQHwyZ9Wc/TEW8OtzsiQI/AAAAAAAAAVo/aB3WJ3HrQVI/s400/misty.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496005881276172546" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />Because really, it's what's at ground level you have to worry about.<br /></span></span><br /></div></div></div></div>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-75388578188663275472010-07-12T20:30:00.004+05:302010-07-12T20:50:38.516+05:30Random bloggeristic factsI got tagged last week by the radiant <a href="http://ephemerette.blogspot.com/">Ephemerette</a>, who was kind enough to award me the peer-judged Versatile Blogger Award. So now, the Seven Random Things about me that must accompany (plus one extra):<br /><br />1. This week I was delivered a brilliant facial by a one-legged beautician. She didn't need a crutch, she simply hopped everywhere with relentless efficiency, not to mention balance. I will think of her every time I get tired and irritated when standing in one place for an hour on my two good legs. <br /><br />2. I have the focus and concentration of a goldfish. I know I should be writing the book but I just can't sit in one place long enough to do it. I have many unfinished blog posts in draft form; I have started three books in the past year: one non-fiction, two fiction. I wish I could just <span style="font-style:italic;">focus.</span> <br /><br />3. I used to live by the beach in Bondi for four sweet years and it is the place I want to, eventually, raise my children, teach them how to dodge bluebottle jellyfish, how to not drown in wicked surf, where to get the best kugelhopf and let old people on the bus ahead of them.<br /><br />4. I think about food perhaps 90 percent of the time. I read cookbooks in bed and love buying exotic organic ingredients. However I am chronically incapable of eating breakfast (unless it involves mango) and cook only about twice a week. <br /><br />5. I love travel to the point that if I haven't been anywhere new for a couple of months, I actually get panic palpitations. India is good for quenching this; Australia is not (imagine a $1000 surcharge on air tickets). At a previous job, whenever things got a bit too stressful I would pull the atlas off the shelf and plan travel routes. Being in a new place - even if it's just the airport - is like oxygen, I feel like I can breathe more easily. I wish someone would give me a job that involved travelling somewhere new once a month. <br /><br />6. I grew up in a suburb in Melbourne, two streets north of Essendon airport, and a seven-minute drive from the main international airport, which took us past my dad's office. I spent a lot of time staring at the undersides of planes when younger.<br /><br />7. I am the middle of three girls, the Jan Brady if you will. Jason says we are all textbook cases of eldest, middle and youngest sisters. My friend Steve once bought me a badge that reads: Marcia, Marcia, Marcia.<br /><br />8. I love National Geographic magazine; it's what inspired me to become a journalist. My husband and I first bonded over the famous Steve McCurry photograph of the Afghan girl. My parents have boxes and boxes and boxes of Nat Geos from the 1970s and 80s. Despite annual cleanouts of the manse, no one will ever throw them away.desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-21921641522304601382010-06-30T12:05:00.005+05:302010-09-24T11:10:26.499+05:30Tamil Nadu's very own Shirley Temple, curls and all<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In the dying days of my previous maid's tenure (don't ask) she got into the habit of bringing her pre-tween daughter to work. I loudly protested, refusing to have someone underage working under my roof, so the girl soon settled into a routine of curling up on my sofa, sometimes with a muesli bar in hand, flicking through the Tamil channels on the TataSky. Sometimes I would sit with her, tapping at my laptop, and she would point out people or things of interest that would appear.<br /><br />And that is how I first became introduced to the wonder that is <a href="http://entertainment.oneindia.in/tamil/reviews/2010/kutty-pisasu-review-080510.html">Kutty Pisasu.</a><br /><br />Kutty Pisasu was the big Tamil children's film release of the school holidays which have just ended. Kutty Pisasu was big news for its use of cutting edge graphics and special effects. Not Avatar cutting edge, might I point out, more Roger Rabbit.<br /><br />One day the girl came running into my bedroom to fetch me. "Kutty Pisasu is on, my favourite," she said excitedly, or at least that's what I figure she said as it was in Tamil. Out I went. There, on the screen, was a music video featuring a pudgy little boy dressed in a bright red cowboy outfit, dancing as if the bus would explode if he didn't. But his moves were strangely feminine, like he'd grown up imitating Madhuri Dixit in <i>Dil To Pagal Hai</i>, occasionally breaking into a round of urgent pelvic thrusting.<br /><br />Next to him in almost every scene was a giant animated robot imitating his dance moves. Sometimes the boy would ride on the robot's shoulders, sometimes he'd be a passenger in a pumpkin coach driven by the robot. Clearly the robot was the Robin to his Batman, the Donkey to his Shrek, the Hobbes to his Calvin.<br /><br />Of course, it took a lot of Googling to identify the film, but I got there. Turns out, the boy is in fact a girl:<a href="http://poochandi.com/actress/baby-keerthika"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Baby Keerthika</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, a Tamil child dancing prodigy who literally slipped out of the womb hip-thrusting and arm-waving.<br /><br />Finally a video's been posted on YouTube. This isn't the original clip that sent me into convulsions of laughter, prompting strange looks from the girl, but is quite close and will give you a thorough appreciation of Kutty Pisasu.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9n5MgQ0iwLY?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9n5MgQ0iwLY?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /></span></span></span></span>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884870809001967064.post-4338348648176649782010-06-17T14:00:00.004+05:302010-06-17T16:06:20.746+05:30When visitors descend<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Our spare bedroom's seen a lot of action. Not nudge-nudge-wink-wink sort of action - although maybe so, I don't know - but in the year we've been in Delhi there's been a steady stream of traffic through those twin beds. There was lovely Rachel from London, who, despite a masters' degree from LSE was interning with an NGO here as there are <i>no jobs</i> out there, even for LSE masters graduates, and dossed with us for a few weeks between flatshares. Then there was a French homme from Dubai, out for a month visiting his girlfriend and learning Mandarin here (?). He locked us in the house by accident on his first night, and blew up our inverter at least three times by keeping his blower heater on almost 24/7. My mother, my aunts, my cousin, various friends.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This week a Texan travel writer Jason met a on a trip to Cambodia a year or so ago dropped by, along with his wife and three-year-old. They're en route to a tiny village of 20,000, high in the Himalayas where his wife is studying the indigenous and highly endangered local language.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Just how does a three year old cope in a developing country? Remarkably well, as it turns out. Apart from a hankering for peanut butter (easily available), a week into her first trip to India and she was fine. She was more than fine, she was happy and excitable and polite and friendly and just a little clingy. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Hear that, all my friends and relatives who invoke the children excuse to get out of visiting me. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We went to the Lodi Gardens and even though she got excited at the sight of a watering hose pumping out (sewerage) water onto the grass and went and had a play, her parents didn't freak out, just said, "oh look at that bird!" and rinsed her hands with bottled water. Very impressively chilled.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It is a hard time to visit, given the weather. What else is there to do in Delhi in summer with kids in tow? The <a href="http://www.selectcitywalk.com/">Select Citywalk</a> mall is worth precisely one visit, even less if you're on a travel writer's salary. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I had a quick surf around the web and these all seem to be popular options:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1. <a href="http://www.sulabhtoiletmuseum.org/">Toilet museum</a>: Open 10-5, Monday - Saturday. Traces the evolution of toileting.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">2. <a href="http://www.nationalrailmuseum.org/new_nrm/index1.jsp">Rail museum</a>: 11 acres of railway fun.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">3. Lodi Gardens (early in the morning or late afternoon)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">4. Garden of Five Senses (ditto for times)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">5. <a href="http://www.delhitourism.com/dttdc/index.htm">Dancing fountains; the sound and light show </a>at the historic Purana Qila</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">6. India Gate in the evening: full of vendors, jugglers, people. Like the park in front of the Champs Elysees but less infected with cynicism.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p>desideratahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14193720807843265146noreply@blogger.com4