It came, it happened and it went. This year’s JLF had all the right ingredients, the authors, the sessions and the venue. But then it still wasn’t the JLF we had all grown to love. Somewhere, the spice seems to be missing.
‘It has been one of the most spectacular festivals ever. We had very few drawbacks. There have been no dramas, no controversies. The authors have been astonishingly good,’ said William Dalrymple, author and director of the Jaipur Literature Festival. I wonder why he said that? Was it because the Jaipur Literature Festival 2024 has transformed into a ghost version of what it was some 4 years ago at Diggi Palace Hotel? The very words ‘Jaipur Literature Festival’ bring to my mind’s eye the very first JLF that I had attended in 2017. As they say, ‘the first impression is the last impression’ and so I was imprinted for life. The decorations and the entire look of original home of JLF, the Diggi Palace Hotel was about a celebration of not just literature but culture too. Not just the speakers or their books, but the atmosphere itself felt as if one had been transported to a magic land where nothing else mattered. You could fetch yourself some tea or coffee or some snacks and sit down and listen to the literati conversing about life, politics or anything else under the sun. Or you could just hop across to the lunch area where you would be sure to spot or bump into the likes of Shashi Tharoor or Shobha De or any other such stalwarts busy conversing with people or just enjoying their food. It was a setting which made the common folks believe that they could also hold intelligent conversations with all those ‘big’ writers and perhaps create a memory which would last them a life time of dinner parties and coffee conversations. Every year, as I would step into this world of JLF, I would leave behind my professional and personal woes at the entrance and enter into the wonderland that promised me intriguing tet-e-tats, interesting rendezvous and tasty memories. But then nothing lasts forever, does it? A thing of beauty is never a joy forever, is it?
On the first day, as I drove into the gate of the make-shift parking of the Clarks Amer Hotel, I was stopped by a traffic police man and his assistant. He said, ‘the parking is full.’ I looked around, the parking was quite vacant except for a few cars. Besides those, there was an empty section had a board that read ‘festival vehicles only’. ‘There is a lot of space,’ I replied pointing to the empty spaces. ‘No, those are reserved for the other guests.’ I could see an empty space right in the front of the parking lot. ‘How about that space?’ I asked. ‘That is the colony’s space. We can’t park there.’ After a lot of discussion, he finally said, ‘okay, I will give you a space but it’s quite sandy. The vehicle which was parked there yesterday, got so mired in the sand that we had to call a crane and there are a lot of shrubs and thorny bushes, so your car tyres may get punctured but that will not be our fault’. I was getting late so I agreed to park, praying that I or the car tyres don’t meet the same fate. I chatted with him after parking my car and he told me that apparently there was some clash between the hotel management and the residents who believe that the parking lot belongs to them. I made my way to the entrance of JLF where volunteers were busy checking the attendees passes and guiding them to the venue of the festival. The minimum entrance fee was 200 rupees and upon the payment, those passes with the QR code were then sent to the attendee’s mobile which was then scanned by these volunteers. Someone had once said that knowledge should be free, which it was in the JLF of the yore. But today, things are different. However, youth activist and film maker Puneeta Roy feels differently. ‘I feel that this basic entry fee of 200 INR is just to discourage the selfie takers, the people who used to come to the festival just to take selfies or roam around. Moreover, now since no one can enter without an online registration, we at the Lit Fest are able to know the exact number of visitors at the literature festival at any given point in time. Now we see that the crowds that are coming in are a little more aware and there seem to be more readers.’
However, Prashanth Kumar, a new attendee had a different take on the matter. ‘This was the first time I was attending JLF. I am from Hyderabad but I have been living in Jaipur for the past three years. I had heard a lot about it over the years so I was expecting that it will be a place where there will be books and authors I could interact with or talk with. However, in Clarks all I could see were these tents where some people were speaking on the dais while the others were listening to them. To me, it appeared that they were busy promoting their books. I saw youngsters taking selfies or eating or shopping at the numerous stalls. It felt like a festival alright but not a festival of books.’
From the entrance to the different venues like the Baithak or the Charbagh or the front lawn was a long walk, every morning. On some days, some of those wore a desolate look as the speakers droned on to a few listeners who were more interested in their phones than the discussion at hand. Of course, the more popular sessions like those of Gulzar or Amish Tripathi or Devdutt Patnaik did attract the crowds but then that was expected, wasn’t it?
I remembered the days when JLF was at the Diggi Palace Hotel. It was as if the whole Diggi Palace Hotel had become the Literature Festival. Anywhere on the venue, you could bump into Rampratap Diggi, the scion of the Diggi Palace and his entire clan decked up in their traditional attire. As Puneeta Roy puts it, ‘When you landed at the Diggi Palace Hotel, the impression one got was that they had arrived at a ‘Thakur’ abode. The entire family and the staff were completely involved in the festival. We used to arrive weeks before the festival and train the entire staff to ensure that we could maintain that aura of the festival. Here though Apurva and his family are involved, that involvement is a bit more subtle. We tried training the staff earlier but then this is a very busy hotel and the staff has to not just cater to the festival but also take care of the check-ins and the guests.’
Perhaps, that’s where the difference lies. In Diggi Palace, it was only about the festival whereas in Clark’s, JLF is just one of the many activities that happen in the hotel which is why the very spirit of JLF is missing here. The earlier version of JLF or rather the pre-covid version of JLF was not just about book but also about celebrating the culture and cuisine of Rajasthan and perhaps even India. This time , it was strictly the books, at least for the common folks. As a media personnel, the spread that was laid out in lunch was disappointing. Each morning as I made my way to the lunch hall, I passed a bhelpuri vendor who prepared a better fare than that in the Clark’s. However, there is a small consolation – every second dish had a dash of spinach or some green leafy vegetable- which meant that I have eaten enough iron to qualify in the iron woman contest! For those who had to buy their food from various vendors also faced a similar problem. There weren’t enough tables and chairs to sit on or to eat. Once, it even started raining while we were in the middle of our fare and there was no place to go! But that was not the case with the privileged class. Food in the authors’ lounge or the friends of the festival lounge featured an array of delectable cuisine, that could be only afforded by the rich and the famous. A far cry from the days of Diggi where everyone could enjoy the same delicacies with every one!
Speaking of queues, generally in a hotel like Clarks Amer, one would expect easily accessible washrooms. But that too wasn’t the case here. The washrooms had long queues. On the positive side, the women folk have undergone some evolution of sorts. In the long serpentine queues, they were patiently waiting for their turns. Frankly speaking , JLF is still a coveted festival. For most folks, it means a wonderland of experiences and knowledge. However, the image that is still alive in the hearts and minds of its lovers is that of Diggi’s JLF and not that of the event that happens in Clarks Amer. As one attendee remarked, ‘experiencing JLF earlier and now is like watching Madhubala in Mughal-e-Azam in her heydays and later watching her as she struggled with her heart disease and become a mere shell of the bombshell she was!
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on February 29, 2024.
It was a cozy evening straight out of Nav Gulati’s book. Gentle showers of rain and cool breeze. The only thing that was missing was the Anup Talav of Fatehpur Sikri and a dancing Anarkali. However, one could still feel Anarkali’s presence as Nav Gulati talked about his experiences with his book ‘Anarkali- One Concubine and Two Emperors’ with Rajesh Sharma, editor, Rashtradoot.
When he was asked what made him write this book on Anarkali, he replied, ‘I have always felt that I have some connection with Anarkali. When I watched the movie Mughal-e-Azam, this connection sort of became stronger. Maybe it has to do with my past lives. One day, I dreamt that I was a Ghulam who was assigned to protect Anarkali and it was I who travelled with her from Istanbul to the court of Akbar. I felt as if I understood her plight, her life and her desires better than anyone else. Perhaps that is why I like to read and talk about her. This book too is like an ongoing conversation with Anarkali.’
A member of the audience who had read the novel commented that when one reads the book, it seems as if the author has done some painstaking research on the subject which is apparent in his language and description about various customs and aspects of history. He then asked Nav about his modus operandi with regards to the research to which Nav replied, ‘I was always fascinated with the Ottoman Empire and the Mughal Empire. But since I also wanted to earn good money and have a career in life, I focussed on my job too. Though I had already thought about the story; it was like a movie running in my head, I really started seriously writing when I got posted in Dallas in 2010. I was working with a bank at the time. I used to stay in California. So every Monday, I had to travel to Dallas and every Friday evening I would be back in California. However, after my work got over during the week I didn’t have anything to do. I wasn’t much into television or socializing. So, I decided to do some detailed research about the Mughals and the Ottomans. There was a library close by and every evening I would go to the library and read. So, for six years, till about 2016, this was my schedule and I read every book I could find about these empires. Since I already had my story in my head, I would make notes and add in these little details to my story.’
As the rain drizzled, people sipped on hot tea and enjoyed the cozy, serene vibes. Another reader wanted to know about how Nav Gulati came up with the idea of two Anarkalis. He replied, ‘the idea of the two Anarkali’s came to me when I was reading about the debate in Emperor’s Suleyman’s Divan in 1535 whether to invade India or Persia. At the time, Baghdad was the seat of learning and prosperity. Humayun’s emissaries got the wind of this and asked Humayun to do something so that the Ottomons don’t invade India since they were a relentless war machine and could bring down the Mughal empire in a flash. Humayun sent the Sultan tributes in the form of gold, silver etc from India, which made the Sultan turn his attention to Persia. This is a fact that is well known. However, I added that he also sent the Sultan two concubines Anarkali I and Jalpari. In my story, Anarkali 1 was the grandmother of Anarkali. Anarkali was the daughter of Selim and Sufiye who was the daughter of Anarkali 1. It was Anarkali who had to travel back to Hindustan since her foster mother Jalpari wanted to spend the last days of her life in Hindustan since she was born here. It was this Anarkali who met Salim and together they created an eternal love story. So, when I read about Anarkali and I thought about Salim (later on Emperor Jahangir), my only thought was Anarkali went from one Selim to another Salim.
It was quite an interactive and lively session as the audience clamoured to add their comments and ask questions. Some of them found the book too explicit while the others wondered if sensuality was such an important aspect in the Mughal or Ottomon Empire. Nav replied, ‘ sensuality was an art when it was about Ottoman or the Mughal empire. They took pride in their procedures to turn a woman into a sensual one. There were perfumes, each of which was designed for a specific part of the body and was applied on the woman to ensnare the senses of the man. It was about all the senses, whether it was taste or smell or touch or vision. The lady was taught to dress in a certain way, smell in a certain way, walk and dance in a certain way. They even had musicians who would hide behind the curtains and play serenading music. The sultan would have a slave ready who would hand him the opium pill which would further enhance his experience with his concubine.’
Amidst the laughter, discussions and even some disagreements, one thing was quite evident. The enigma of Anarkali had captured everyone’s hearts and minds. Many of the audience even said that this kind of book deserves a magnus opus which can bring out the beauty, pain and tragedy of being Anarkali.
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on 15 February 2024.
He is immaculately dressed. He offers you a chair the moment you walk in. Anirudh Rathore exudes an old-world charm which is sadly missing these days. He is the author of ‘Investing Decoded’ which has been well received especially by those who don’t understand investing at all and he runs two very successful hotels too. So, what more could a man want, you would ask! Well, a lot more investing, he would say!
He doesn’t have a degree in finance. He is not your typical bespectacled finance guy who spouts numbers at the drop of a hat. In fact, he and numbers didn’t see eye to eye a few years back but today people seek his advice on investing. When I met Anirudh Rathore at his hotel in Dera Rawatsar in Jaipur, I was expecting to meet some sort of finance whiz who would be talking on three different phones at the same time. But to my utter surprise, Anirudh Rathore turned out to be your friendly neighbourhood entrepreneur who owns two heritage hotels and is now a proud author of the best seller ‘Investing Decoded’.
He has written a book on investing which has been well received by the public. So, was he a numbers person from the very beginning? No, not at all! I was never into numbers at all. I used to run away! My weakest subject was mathematics in school (Mayo College, Ajmer). As a matter of fact, since it was such a nemesis, I gave up mathematics after my X class. I was so happy to leave mathematics after X. In XI and XII standard I studied arts. I studied history, geography and English. After that I did my graduation in history honours from St. Stephens.
So how did he get into investing? After I finished my graduation in 1993, I applied for a lot of jobs but got no calls. Now, that was the time when the Indian economy had just opened up and all the graduates were rushing to join the private sector. But there was obviously catch to it. If you wanted to join a good organization in a good position, you had to be an MBA. My classmates and me realized that we had to do more to get a good job. At one time, I was almost on the verge of joining the army. Both my army exam and the MBA entrance exam were on the same date. Although my parents wanted me to join the army, but that time, there was such a craze of joining the private sector that I sat for the MBA exam instead of joining the army.
But wasn’t the MBA entrance test all about numbers again? True! It was. In fact, before appearing for the MBA entrance exam, I devoted a year for preparing for the exam and learnt math all over again. I got through the exam and joined MBA in the Rajasthan university. After MBA, I joined banking.
From a history graduate to MBA to a banking professional. What made him go for banking? From my very childhood, I have a tendency to dive deeper and explore things I don’t understand. As a child when I used to watch these people in the bank, I was always curious to know what they did there sitting all day long! It seemed very impressive to me to see people working in Grindlays, Barclays and all such fancy banks. They spoke in a language which was understood by no one except them. So, I thought that was a very cool thing to do and be a part of. So, once I completed my MBA, I applied for a position and luckily, I got through and joined as a trainee assistant manager in IndusInd Bank and was posted in Chandigarh. Initially everything was new to me. I enjoyed all the different aspects of my job for the next couple of years. However, after a while it became a routine and standard work and I wanted to learn more since banking and finance is such a big and diverse line. Just joining a bank doesn’t teach you anything about finance. Banks are massive, there are so many departments and when I was in IndusInd bank, I realized that it was only catering to retail banking. There was nothing about investment banking or things like that. So, I started looking out for new avenues. As luck would have it, I got to know about an opening in HDFC bank in the private banking segment. There was no other bank in Rajasthan that was dealing with private banking at the time. Although I knew nothing about investing, luckily, I applied and got the position. Suddenly a whole new world opened to me. A world which people were either quite clueless about or they found it very intimidating. That set the pace and tone for me. We were part of a very selective group of people who were doing something which was very unique. No other bank except HDFC used to do private banking in India and only we 20-25 people were doing it in India and I was the only person in Rajasthan doing it. There the quality of people I interacted were crème-de-la-crème.
I remember once during my MBA class, I got up and asked my teacher about the Harshad Mehta scam which was in the news at that time. But the professor himself didn’t know much about the scam and said that he could not answer the question and that I should meet him after the class. Then I went out to all the bookstores of Jaipur which could help me to understand this scam. But to my great surprise, I could not find a single book on the topic in the entire city! After some years, I went to Delhi and got books like The Intelligent Investor and Security Analysis that gave me an understanding of the subject. To put it in perspective, it was only when I got into this private banking sector, I completely understood the Harshad Mehta scam. I doubt if even today people in those MBA classes have a clear understanding of it.
What made him write this book? A couple of years back, I noticed that though there seems to be a lot of information regarding banking, investing on the internet, there also is massive confusion and gaps in that knowledge. People who want to know about investing feel as if they need to climb a mountain to understand investing. Most books on this topic are either difficult to understand or they simply talk about the experiences of the author. They don’t explain the main things you need to know or the kind of psychology and mindset you need to succeed in this field. I also feel that people who do talk about investing are just saying or doing things that have been said before or are hearsay or are in vogue. Even many investors are just blindly following news channels or influencers. Of course, some of them are right about a lot of things but there is a gap which made me think about writing a book which can simplify things. I myself am no professor in finance and neither do I work as an asset manager in a company or handle people’s money. Like most people, I am self-taught and I have learnt these concepts on my own and have learnt to apply them on my own. So, I thought that maybe I could relate to people by writing a book which they could understand.
What is investing from his point of view? According to me investing is a combination of about 70 percent psychology and 30 percent analysis. For example, when there is a sale in a department store, all of us will rush to buy but when there is a sale in the stock market, people will cringe in fear because they feel that whatever they are going to buy will fall in price even more. We are programmed to operate in either fear or greed or ego. If you notice at any point in time, you will find that either you are exuberant about something or you are scared about something or you have a personal ego about something. These things if you cannot master, you cannot master the stock market. We have so many vices build inside us. Let’s say you have a sum of 1000 rupees that you can invest. You have even analysed the company. Now the hurdle that most people face is when to invest and how much to invest. They keep wondering whether they should spend these 1000 rupees ten days later or today or should they wait for the price to come down or they follow the television which tells them that the market is going to collapse or this is going to happen or there is war in Palestine or Ukraine. There is so much of interplay of information that is going on which confuses and scares the person and he is unable to take a decision. Instead of one thousand rupees, he ends up investing only 100 rupees. This is because there is so much of chatter in his mind because of these vices. He is not able to make a rational decision.
Is there a way to mitigate this fear and banish this misconception amongst the common people? Yes, there is. I can give you small and easy example. Let’s say some one has five crore rupees to buy a flat in a place like Mumbai. In a real estate market, that five crore rupee flat will fluctuate between four crore seventy lakh and five crore thirty lakh. That is the price range of plus or minus five to ten percent that it fluctuates in and hence people are not afraid to invest in it. But in case of a stock, if you happen to invest five crores in a company, that stock may fluctuate between three crores and eight crores in the same year. It is volatile and that’s why it scares people because the fluctuation is uncontrollable and then it plays on the human emotions. But a good investor takes advantage of this volatility. He plays on the same emotions. He doesn’t get scared when the value is down. He knows that the true worth of this company is five crores but right now the stock is for three crores so he buys the stock and waits. He knows that the stock will again hit eight crores and that is the time he will make a huge profit on it. Here the bottom line is that a true investor knows the worth of that particular company since he is done his research. For me, if the stock market goes down tomorrow, I am not afraid. In fact, I will buy more stocks since I will get them at a cheaper rate rather than getting worried or upset or fearful. For people who are quite new to stocks can first get their feet wet with mutual funds and understand the market.
What is the reaction of his family and friends to his new found love of investing? Anirudh laughs! There is this constant tussle for the remote between my wife, my children and me. I would always watch the finance news and they would get irritated since they wanted to watch their own channels. I had not told them about my book being published with Penguin Random House. But when I revealed this bit of news to them, it was then that they realized why I was hooked on to those channels! My classmates who had studied history with me were totally taken aback because they had all expected me to write a book on history!
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on January 8, 2024
Prithvi Raj Singh Oberoi was a good boss who remembered the names of his employees and supported them when required. However, sometimes too much of a good thing can also be bad.
PRS Oberoi or Prithvi Raj Singh Oberoi (Biki)- This name was an integral part of my life when I got married. My husband used to work as an airport manager for the Oberoi hotels. Mine was an arranged marriage. When my parents heard that he was working as an airport manager, they assumed it to be a good post. We were told that he had been working in the same hotel chain for the last 15 years. For my parents, at that time, it signified stability. My husband Mohit was a ‘bhakt’ of PRS Oberoi. For him, his Oberoi sir was GOD. His day began and ended with Mr. Oberoi said this and Mr. Oberoi said that. He was in awe of the man who despite having thousands of employees would always address him (a mere airport manager according to him) by his name. Every time he would land at the Delhi Airport, it was Mohit and his team who would receive him when he embarked from his private jet and see him off in his car. Sometimes, he would pick him up from his farmhouse in Chattarpur and escort him to the airport, get him through the customs and then bid him adieu as he hopped aboard his private jet. Whenever we used to meet during our brief courtship period, it was most about how he told Mr. Oberoi about his impending arranged marriage and how he would advise him about the various dos and don’ts of marriage. My introduction to PRS Oberoi was a brief hello during our wedding reception. But his gift, a pink silk brocade saree became a hot topic of discussion for months.
‘Mr. Oberoi is so generous, Mr. Oberoi has such good taste, Mr. Oberoi went out of his way to get you this saree, you should be grateful’, dialogues like these popped up in every discussion. Yes, the saree was beautiful no doubt but it wasn’t exactly Burj Khalifa to be honest. It was just a brocade saree, slightly more expensive than what you would ordinarily spend on a sari! For our honeymoon, we went to Udaipur. We stayed at the Trident Hotel (at an employee discount of course!). The facilities were excellent as is the case with all Oberoi properties. However, that did not last long since my husband got a heart attack in the next couple of days. A few of our relatives in Udaipur helped my husband to get admitted to the city hospital there. Here too, the magnanimous Mr. Oberoi and his company helped us to foot the bill. Afterwards, we flew back to Delhi where Mohit got admitted to Escorts for his angioplasty and there too it was Mr. Oberoi to the rescue. Naturally when he recovered, he was completely indebited to Mr. Oberoi which meant even longer work hours, zero work life balance and no family life.
As a wife of some one who has spent more than a decade in an organization (he started off as an intern and graduated to a manager) , I have gleaned some interesting insights.
One, if you happen to marry someone like that beware that your husband will always be more loyal to the company than to you! Forget work life balance! The boss may have thousands of employees but if he calls an employee by his name every time he meets him, then the employee is likely to lay down his life for him (actually and figuratively). At times, when he was late, I would berate his organization but my husband could hear nothing against his beloved ‘Mr. Oberoi’ despite the long working hours or the crazy schedule he had to follow owing to his boss’s erratic comings and goings. In India, particularly in the Northern regions winters is the time for extensive tourism business. In Delhi, owing to the fog during winters most flights are either delayed or postponed and it is these times that the hotels capitalize on and earn huge revenues from the airlines and customers. Mohit’s job was to ensure that all the customers stay at the Oberoi Hotels rather than any other five-star property and this job was an all-nighter during those times. Secondly, your husband will always try to emulate the life style of his boss to the best of his ability regardless of his ability to do so.
In our home, it was all about how Mr. Oberoi eats a rich diet or how he eats gold or silver ‘bhasm’ which makes him so healthy and hearty. He would always narrate an incident of how he happened to visit Oberoi Farm in Chattarpur where Mr. Oberoi’s personal chef was preparing his food and how he made him taste it and Mohit literally sweated because the food was ‘pure and potent’ because of the bhasms. Or it was also about how Mr. Oberoi despite his old age (he was about 80 at the time) was always surrounded by beautiful women who were immaculately dressed 24 X7. Another aspect of being such an employee for such a boss is also about emulating everything he sees in the office in his own home. Since he worked in the hotel industry, my husband wanted the home to resemble a hotel too. It had to be spick and span, all the curtains vacuumed and the bedsheets pristine and tightly tucked in. His logic? ‘When Mr. Oberoi’s home could be like that, why can’t his own home follow suit?’ Of course, a tiny detail that is conveniently missed out is that hotel has a huge house keeping staff that is especially hired for this purpose while the home has just one employee- his wife. He wanted his wife to also resemble one of the hotel’s female employees- immaculate saree, coiffed hair and perfectly made up face every day, each day. An impossible target which was obviously never met!
Once Mohit told me that the Oberoi Hotels sell cakes on a discounted rates to their employees. When I tasted the cake, I was floored! I jokingly told Mohit that he is the luckiest person in the world to get such cakes at such a low cost. Mohit made a face and said, ‘I know what you mean but now I cannot even taste these cakes because during my earlier days in The Oberoi, my friend who was a chef and knew about my love for these cakes used to open the walk in refrigerator for me and lock me up there till I had my fill. Now, I cannot even look at them! If you observe the lives of most of these super achievers of the world, they are known more for their work than their ‘perfect’ family life. Probably that’s the reason why their work grows and cracks appear in their family life. But when people around them try to emulate their formula for their own success, it doesn’t work out because those people don’t have either the financials or the support or the help to lead such a crazy jet setting life. The result? Frustration and addiction to alcohol or smoking or other such vices grows and health declines. One fine day, as was his usual custom, Mohit accompanied the company officials to their chartered plane at the airport and saw them off. Perhaps he was tired, so while returning in the bus he placed his head on the window to take a quick nap. He never woke up. He had suffered a heart attack.
In better days, whenever asked about his love for his boss and the Oberoi hotels, Mohit often used to sing Raj Kapoor’s famous song ‘Jeena yahan, marna yahan, iske siva jaana kahan….’. He lived that till the end. Though I have only met the man once, Mr. P R S Oberoi has been a part of my life in more ways than one and has taught me many important lessons for the rest of my life. The most important out of them is that a good boss sometimes is not necessarily a good thing for a hardworking employee. Sometimes it leads to the employees undoing too and if that happens there is no one to blame!
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on December 7, 2023
It is said that driving liberates a woman. But does it really? Driving on the winding roads of Rajasthan makes one realize that there is more to driving than what meets the eye. It makes you independent and takes you places- literally.
‘Mummy, please be careful. There is a truck ahead of you!’ ‘Beta, thanks but please stop backseat driving. I can see the truck!’ The phone rang. ‘Hello, where have you reached?’ ‘Papa, we have just crossed a board which says Rajgarh is about 100 km. We will be there in by 9 pm.’ Beta, shall I send some one to guide you through the route?’ ‘Don’t worry papa, we will manage.’ I disconnected the call and took a deep breath. ‘I can do it!’ I whispered silently as I navigated my car in the fast moving traffic of the national highway. This was the first time I was driving on a highway in the night and my dad like all dads was worried. I am not new to the roads of Rajasthan. I have been driving for the last decade and a half. Incidently when my father told her about my trip, my mom was not worried. She simply said, ‘She should learn to do everything on her own. It is about time.’
However, like most women in India, learning to drive wasn’t a piece of cake. Before my marriage, I used to drive a scooty but my parents were constantly worried that I may hurt my self. Once, after my marriage had been fixed, I had an accident with my scooty and my parents were petrified of explaining the bruises on my hands and face. My brother on the other hand has been driving ever since he was legally allowed to drive. He has had accidents, banged up his car at one point or the other but no one actually stopped him from driving. I, on the other hand was a different matter. But then time passed and as a single mother I had no choice but to learn driving. Some decades ago, my father (now a retired army officer) was posted at Lucknow and I was living with him, I used to learn driving from a fauji driver. For hours, I would drive an old Maruti 800 (our family’s first car) on the winding roads of Lucknow while he would patiently sit on the co driver’s seat and give me tips on how to deal with different situations while driving. My father on the other hand was a different story. Once, after a lot of cajoling he agreed to sit on the codriver’s seat while I drove the car. The moment he would see a vehicle coming he would tense up and ask me to slow down (not that I was driving fast!). The vehicle would pass without any incident and my father would heave a sigh of relief. I have always wondered why despite my careful driving, it has taken my father years to confidently sit on the front seat while I drive while he never had the same fear with my brother. But this time it was different. I was determined to drive my car on my own to the village. The idea of driving to the village occurred to me out of the blue. It was a week end and for me it was the perfect way to prove my driving mettle in front of my family. So, in an hour, at about 1 pm, my daughter (who was very excited about the idea) and me packed up our rucksacks and with our two dogs set out for the village. I had called up my father and told him of our plan. He said, ‘please don’t do this beta. I will be very worried till you don’t reach! Don’t put me in such a stress.’ ‘Papa, don’t worry. I will reach safe and sound. Besides if my brother can do it, why can’t I??’ ‘You have your daughter with you. I wouldn’t have bothered if you were coming alone.’ ‘No Papa. I will come on my own because this is something I need to do for myself and my daughter. Don’t worry.’ ‘That’s the issue beta. I will be worried.’ Normally, such a statement from my father would have stopped me in my tracks. But this time I wanted to prove it to him that I can do anything I set my mind to. We set out at about 1 pm. It was a sunny day with no trace of clouds. The plan was simple. We would drive down to my village Leelki, near Sadulpur (Rajgarh) which was about 300 km from Jaipur. On the way, we would only stop at Rashidhpura, a place famous for its hot piping tea and kachoris. The stereo belted out John Denver’s famous number ‘Country roads take me home’ as I drove along the long winding roads. For me, it was a life event because at 40 something I was finally driving on my own on a highway. To be honest, I was a bit scared because I had heard many stories, read books and watched movies about how miscreants were always on the look out for women travelling alone on the highway. My daughter and I had decided to keep a very low profile. We both had worn simple jeans and shirts with black caps on our heads. We reached Rashidpura at about 4 pm. Fortunately there weren’t many people in the restaurant. We quickly let out the dogs for a much needed stroll while I sipped on the tea (which revved me up for another long stretch of driving), got some kachoris packed and we were soon on our way. It is only when you drive that you start appreciating the roads of India. Smooth and undulating, they go on for miles while farms, dunes pass by on the side. I didn’t encounter much traffic at the time, so the drive was smooth as the songs played on the radio and we sang along with them. Soon the sun set and it became dark. It was then I realized why my dad was so worried. Unlike the city where you have street lamps on almost every road, the highways in Rajasthan are not lit at all. On a moonless night, there is nothing to show you the way ahead, not even the reflectors that are generally embedded on the sides of the roads. So, if one is not careful, there is a good chance that you can drive off the road. If that happens, you are on your own and God’s good humour. Though the lack of light was a deterrent, I was in no mood to drive fast. I drove at a steady speed of 70 km per hour. Though there were trucks ahead of me, I did not attempt to overtake them unless until absolutely required. After all, we can all peacefully coexist and drive to our destinations in our own sweet time.
There is a distinct difference in driving in the bright sunlight and driving at the night. In the day, you can see everything around and ahead of you. You can plan for the route ahead and you don’t have to worry about bumping into a bullock cart or a donkey standing on the side of the road (especially things that don’t have lights on them). You can activate the cruise feature on your car that keeps your speed steady if the road is clear and smooth. However, as soon as it becomes dark, the landscape changes and resembles that of an alien planet. Things are not what they seem in the night. A small bullock cart travelling at the speed of about 5 km per hour has the power to completely disarm your excellent and careful driving. But then, all said and done, there is something hypnotising too about driving at night. Driving under the stars or the moon (if you are lucky) felt like a dream to me. At times I almost felt as if I would wake up and find myself sleeping in my bed. I glanced at my daughter, she had fallen asleep and so had the dogs.
All this while we were in touch my father, who was busy tracking our progress through Google’s live location (thank God for technology). As we came closer to our destination, I felt more confident and powerful. What is it about driving that makes you feel so empowered? I remembered a conversation that I had with my friend Sheeba Parambil who is the city chief for Sakha Cabs in Jaipur, a cab service which only has women drivers. I was talking to her about how people keep saying that driving liberates a woman. She said, ‘I agree. It actually does. In fact, I would say that driving liberates a women much more than what education does. With education, you get financial liberation but with driving you get liberated emotionally and mentally. In fact, many of our cab drivers are girls who were earlier not allowed to step outside their homes but when their circumstances forced them to earn money, they took up driving . Today, they can go anywhere. Now they have become so adept at driving that their families don’t even bother when they set out for work and stay away from home for days at a stretch.’ I reached my village at about 10 pm much to my father’s relief. The next day, the word spread that I had driven all the way from Jaipur. For many women and girls, it was an achievement of sorts. They came to meet me and marvel at the feat while I kept wondering why was it such a big deal!
This article by Shailaza Singh was published in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on 27 November 2023
It was an evening replete with anecdotes, discussions, questions and laughter as Neerja Chowdhury, Sumit Mitra and Rajesh Sharma talked about India and its various prime ministers and their modus operandi.
Author Neerja Chowdhury with Rajesh Sharma, editor, Rashtradoot Newspaper, Sumit Mishra, consultant ABP Ltd and Shailaza Singh
Veteran journalist, author and political editor of Indian Express, Neerja Chowdhury has seen it all. She has seen the rise of the prime ministers of India and their fall. She has witnessed their agony, their joy, their triumph and defeats too. In her decades of walking and reporting from the corridors of power, she has also been a privy to a lot of conversations that have erased and created the history of India. Her recent book ‘How Prime Ministers Decide’ has been the talk of the nation because for the first time ever it helps a common man to really understand what goes on in those lofty corridors of power. Hence it is but obvious when such a personality visits Rashtradoot for an evening of book discussion, there is bound be a lot of excitement.
Sharing the stage with Neerja Chowdhury was Sumit Mitra, who is currently working as a consultant with ABP Ltd and Rajesh Sharma, editor, Rashtradoot Newspaper. Sumit Sharma has also been a part of the journalism world for decades. He has worked as a senior editor with India Today. He has also served as the associate editor of Sunday and as an editor of the Sunday Mail. It was quite a candid conversation that flowed as Sumit Mitra inquired from Neerja Chowdhury about why did she decide to write such a book. Neerja replied that she thought about writing such a book somewhere in the year 1999. She was a political journalist who had closely observed the dealings in the highest echelons of power and she wanted to write something that would help the millennials to truly understand and relate to politics because she feels that the younger generation does not connect well with politics that well and easily. Some one in the audience questioned Neerja about who has been her favourite prime minister to which she replied that since she has closely seen each prime ministers workings and dealings, she really doesn’t have any favourite. However, she admitted that when it came to strength, she considers Indira Gandhi to be one of the strongest prime minister but when Sanjay Gandhi died in a plane crash, she became quite fragile and vulnerable. She also talked about how no one has ever understood why Indira Gandhi despite everything going for her went for elections in 1977 which ousted her party completely. When a member of the audience asked her about her take on Narendra Modi and the lack of a chapter on the current prime minister in her book, Neerja replied that though she has mentioned Modi in her book but since he was still ‘work in progress’ and she did not have the advantage of hindsight about his work, she dropped the idea. She also admitted that many of her friends and acquaintances who had read the book said that incase she does dedicate a whole chapter to Modi, her readers may not pay much attention to the past prime ministers and only concentrate on the current ones. Rajesh Sharma questioned her about her chapter on the former prime minister P V Narsimha Rao who was referred to as the ‘The Prime Minister Who Refused to Decide” in the book. She talked about how the Rao did not take any decision even when he was informed of the Babri Masjid demolition. She talked about how Narsimha Rao had once said that he had allowed this incident to happen so that BJP loses its face. When some one asked her about why she did not cover prime ministers like Chandra Shekhar or Moraji Desai, she said that she chose only those prime ministers who had completed a whole term in the office except for perhaps V P Singh who had stayed in the office for only 11 months but his decision to set up the Mandal Commission had far reaching consequences for the nation. She also revealed that it was Rahul who prevented Sonia Gandhi from becoming the Prime Minister… dadi died, was killed, his father was killed, he said, ‘In six months you will be killed and that you have 24 hours to decide, if you go ahead, I will do something drastic’,” said Chowdhury, adding that Sonia Gandhi didn’t want Rajeev Gandhi to come into politics, but she wanted Rahul to get into it. The audience sat entranced as she talked about how no matter who was in the office as a prime minister, their only aim she could understand was to stay in power regardless of the condition of the nation or its people. For the audience, they had never heard of this kind of an insight into the corridors of power. In response to a question by a member of the audience, Neerja remarked that Manmohan Singh is often considered to be among the weakest PMs, with Sonia Gandhi virtually being half-PM at the time. She also remarked that despite this Singh showcased his strength of character through the Indo-US nuclear deal. She remarked that whether he was underrated in his overall tenure is hard to say, but he was certainly underrated in what he pulled off with the nuclear deal and his efforts led to a transformation in the strategic partnership between India and the US, which continues with the present dispensation. When some one asked her about how she could trust people about the information they gave her about the prime ministers or their modus operandi because politicians are known to lie and bluff often, Neerja replied that she had always kept careful notes on everything that was told to her. Years later when she rechecked the information from her sources, it was the same which confirmed the authenticity of the information provided. Over all, an evening with Neerja Chowdhury proved to be an insightful, thought provoking affair where the audience understood and realized a lot of truths about the nature of Indian politics.
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on October 27th 2023
What is common between a panipuri stall and an electronic soap dispenser? No one would ever ask you such a question! In fact, many would tell you with disdain that it is a stupid question, duh! After all, what could be common between an electronic soap dispenser and pani puri? Perhaps an entrepreneur?
What is spicy, tangy, sweet and sour at the same time? What is lip smacking, thoroughly affordable and totally delectable guaranteed to make your mouth water and taste bud rejoice? What was it that Japanese Prime Minister tried popping into his mouth with such gusto in the presence of our own Prime Minister? Golgappa ofcourse! Also known as pani puri, batasha, puchka, gupchup, this Indian masala concoction with a tangy chutney and yummy masala has achieved world wide fame. In most cities in India, walk out in the evening and you are bound to spot men, women and girls and boys queueing up at the golgappa thela for their daily kick of the savoury water balls.
But many people are also turned off by the way the golgappa is prepared. The vendor usually punctures the puri or the golgappa with his thumb and dips it into the savoury or sweet water and serves it to his customer. One cannot help but wonder how clean is this entire process because the vendor keeps dipping his hand into the savoury water and hardly gets the time to wash his hands again and again.
Voresh Seervi and Uttam Seervi also didn’t like this idea of eating such a golgappa. Uttam says, “We loved panipuri and dahi puri but we could not stand the sight of the golgappa wala bhaiya dipping his hand repeatedly into the water and serving us the same water.” These two twenty-year-old lads from Pali weren’t just here to criticise the entire golgappa system. They were here to change it.
Uttam says, “ We are cousins. Our brothers work in jewellery shops in Chennai while our parents are farmers. We both finished our graduation in science and arts last year. After our graduation, we got into network marketing . We used to attend a lot of meetings and seminars of network marketing in various hotels. We used to see these soap dispensers in this hotel which would be activated by sensors. The person would just place their hands under the dispenser and the soap would come on to their hands. It was then that a germ of an idea started forming in our mind.”
Voresh adds, “We kept thinking about this idea of a machine that could dispense this water without anyone touching the water and yet enjoying panupuri. We then got in touch with some people in Chennai who could make these kinds of machines. We wanted to ensure hygiene in this entire experience. Finally, we could create machines with inbuilt sensors that could dispense the water when a dona or katori was placed beneath the tap just like a soap dispenser.
Armed with their innovative idea, these two youngsters set up a thela near the chitrakoot market. They offered five types of water (sweet, sour, hing, jeera, mirchi) along with the puris. The customers could simply place their dona under the dispenser of their choice and could have their favourite water!
But it wasn’t as easy as that! Voresh recalls their first day, “It was in July 2022. I was setting up the stall. I saw a Punjabi lady of about 70+ years old who was wearing a mask. She asked me if it was our opening day. We had no ceremony of any kind but she understood. She said that she wanted to get dahi puri packed for her husband. I was literally shivering in my boots since here we were, first timers and the first order we get was a takeaway. This was the first time we would pack an order. When I was making the dahi puri, midway, just like it happens in a tough exam, I forgot the recipe. I then opened my diary to look up the recipe and somehow made it and packed it. She took it and went off. We were hoping and praying that she and her husband like it. The next day, we saw her walking towards our stall and we were scared that she might say something. She came and she said that the dahi puri was amazing and her husband loved it. She ordered another take away and gave us a lot of blessings. That really bolstered our confidence. She has now become our regular customer and keeps coming every now and then.”
But then all wasn’t so hunky dory with these young entrepreneurs. Uttam says, “ A couple of days after we had set up the shop, a family of 7 came to us at 10 pm and ordered 7 plates and paid for them. But the moment the lady ate the first pani puri, she threw the plate on the ground and exclaimed that she had never had such atrocious pani puri in front of the whole crowd! We were shocked and scared because we were new in the trade and we thought probably this time the recipe had gone wrong. We apologized and even offered to refund the money but they went away. As time passed and we improved our food’s taste, they came back again and now they are our regular customers.”
Voresh adds, “It was a good thing that this happened in the early stages because it helped us to improve our taste. Now people love the panipuri and some even come to simply drink the hing, jeera water to improve their digestion.
It has been barely an year since they have set up the shop but they are already planning to take their ‘puchka’ forward. We have already opened a new outlet in Mansarovar and now we are working on creating a pan India franchise model where we can help people to set up this business.
So, what kind of people come to their panipuri thela? Voresh says, “ The thing about panipuri is that it is a great leveller. In the evening on one hand you will see a guy getting out of his Mercedes and on the other hand you will see a poor man tired from his day’s work, walking on the road. Both these men will stand together at the golgappa thela without any thought of who is what. Now we have some very regular customers. There is this family of four which comes every other day and each time once they are done with their puchka party and payment, they buy icecreams for both of us from the nearby stall as gifts. They never take no for an answer.”
Do they ever get harassed by the authorities? “ Initially, we had a lot of issues, “says Uttam. “People complained that we were parking our thela in the roadside area. But the authorities then came and inspected and realized that our thela wasn’t in the parking or obstructing the road any way. Voresh adds, “But many a times, policemen also come to our stall. Though most of them pay but there are some who take advantage of their uniform and just refuse to pay even a measly sum of 20 rupees. It makes us feel sad about our law and order system.”
So what is their routine like? Uttam says, “ We start preparing the panipuri from about 12 pm in the morning. By 3 pm we set up the stall and stay there till 11 pm in the night!”
For now, Voresh and Uttam are happy. Do their parents know about their little venture? Uttam laughs, “ Earlier we didn’t tell them because we are Marwaris and we were always expected to take up a government job,” says Uttam. “Mostly the boys in our community are married early. But then when this business started flourishing, the family appreciated our business acumen and encouraged us. Today we are earning more than any government job employee but my mother still keeps asking me about taking up a government job because she believes that getting a panipuri wala married is not easy!” Voresh adds, “Ab paisa kamana hai to puchka to fodna padega na!”
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on September 26th, 2023
Yuvraj’s life reminds one of a dialog by Ranbir Kapoor in the movie ‘Ye Jawani Hai Diwani’. He says ‘ Main udna chahta hoon, daudna chahta hoon, girna bhi chahta hoon. Bus rukna nahin chahta.’ (I want to fly, I want to run, I want to even fall but I don’t want to stop.) Yuvraj is living these lines! Most of us can just dream about them!
‘You’ve has travelled across the world, lived in different cities and experienced different people and cuisines. So, do you have a favourite destination?’
After a thoughtful pause Yuvraj says, ‘In 2017, I received a mail that I had to join a ship sailing to Havana and Bahamas. Bahamas wasn’t that exciting but I loved Havana. I love the book ‘Motorcycle Diaries’ by Che Guevara which is completely set in Havana. So, I was quite excited and wanted to take bike and travel all over the place.’
Havana Diaries
‘When we docked in Havana, my boss gave me my passport and told me to take a day off and explore Havana. From that time on, every week, the ship used to dock for two nights in Havana and I used to get a 24-hour holiday to roam around in Havana. So, on my very first day, I walked about the streets. I found people painting their garages. It is almost like a movie scene. In every three homes, you will see at least one artist painting their garage or wall. You can easily chat with them and even ask them for coffee. They would then invite me inside their homes for coffee and we would talk about anything and everything. At the same time, there were people who were looking for materialistic things because Cuba and USA have never been on good terms when it comes to politics but Cubans love American stuff. At that time, cruise ships mostly sailed from USA. So, I used to take bicycle (we have bicycles in every cruise ship) to travel in Havana. I had my offline maps and google translator. I avoided touristy places and used to go to places where local people used to hang out. I used to stop and talk to random people. Sometimes, some people would try to sell me drugs (Havana is known as a sin city). I have met people who would come to Havana from Miami in the morning, have fun (drugs etc) and catch the evening flight back to Miami. You cannot even leave a bicycle parked anywhere there because that also can be stolen. So, even if I had to visit someone on the thirteenth floor, I had to take the cycle with me in the elevator or even if there are stairs. The thing is Havana is a communist country, so though everyone has a house and job but still that was not enough for them. So, they try to make more from tourists and travellers. At the time (2017), they had two different currencies; one for the locals (cheaper) and one for the tourists (more expensive). At times, random people would approach me and tell me that they liked my purse or my goggles and ask me if I would like to sell them. I would refuse. Sometimes, they would even offer trade-offs. For example, one person wanted to trade his denim (jeans) with mine and another person wanted to trade his shoes with mine. I didn’t trade the denim but I traded the shoes since my shoes were old. But the barter wasn’t fruitful. The shoes I got in return weren’t good so I had to buy a new pair for myself.’
Inside Outside
‘Once I wanted to see a Cuban house from the inside because from the outside, they are very colourful and look like palaces. Even the cars are quite colourful, even though they are usually old models and kind of vintage. When you walk inside most houses, they aren’t that colourful or well lit. Some houses are quite beautiful from the inside too. The thing about communism is that though they harp about equality, it was in Havana that I realised that inequalities exist even in a communist society. Some people have so much of money and the others have so little. No wonder they are so fond of materialistic things. I also realized that people don’t get good internet in Havana, they have one or two government television channels and don’t even have good phone plans. Even for internet, you had to go to a park, a common place where you would see a lot of people sitting with their phones and browsing the net. To my utter surprise, the people in Havana love Indian movies and the channels telecast Bollywood movies (with subtitles of course) at least once a week.’
‘As a part of my job, I also used to visit the art galleries in Havana. I had made good friends with this couple because the lady was working in the art gallery. I don’t remember what her husband did. They had a ten-year-old daughter at the time. Every time, I used to visit Havana, I always made it a point to stop at their place and chat with them. We became such great friends that they would place calls for me or get things or talk to the people for me and help them understand what I wanted. We take phones for granted in India, however in Havana, the phones are also very expensive. To place even a local call, you had to go via information exchange where you give them the number and they will connect it for you! Everything is monitored.’
Retro Metro
‘After Havana, I went to New York. That was also a very different experience. It is so full of people, with coffee shops and tea shops everywhere. You will find fantastic food from all over the world. I don’t remember how many kinds of the foods I tried. The metro experience in New York was something else. I remember standing in a compartment when all of a sudden there was a group of people which walked in from the other compartment and started performing. They collect money from everyone. These guys were so talented, the way they bend their bodies or make music from buckets. It exactly sounds as if you are listening to music with your headphones on. Nothing like what we have in Indian trains!’
Mafia stories
‘Have you ever encountered anyone from mafia during your sojourns’?
‘Once when I was in New Orleans, I ended up in a small art gallery in a mall and started talking to a very cool guy. We had a very interesting conversation where in he wanted to exhibit my photography works from Havana and some of my nude photography works in his art gallery and wanted to sell them. But his gallery wasn’t very big, it was for middle class people who were looking to decorate their homes. But it was interesting nevertheless. After a point, we started talking about the travel and visa processes because I needed someone to invite me to the States. He looked at me and said, ‘I am not the right guy because I was in jail for years.’ Though that partnership did not materialize, today he is running a successful art gallery and we are still friends!
Did he experience any mugging? Luckily, I didn’t. I remember once I was standing on the Brooklyn Bridge and I could feel the vibe of the place. Lots of graffiti, low light, a very sad kind of an atmosphere. I simply got out of there.’
Beating in the beach
‘Did you have any scary experiences during your travels? Yuvraj smiles and nods. ‘Ah, I remember this one experience which scared the living daylights out of me! Once, when I was in Arambol, Goa, I went out for a late-night dinner. After the dinner, I walked along the beach and saw a drama circle (a group of people performing). It is quite a common sight there. I saw a guy who was high on drugs. He was chasing people and hitting people. From a distance, it looked like fun. I suddenly realized that someone was chasing me. He managed to kick me and I fell down. I immediately got up and ran and sat in the middle of the circle. Everyone in that circle was scared but they couldn’t do anything since the guy was high on drugs. Once he started hitting everyone, we started running in different directions. Only I know how I escaped from there!’
Travel bug infects
‘So, do your parents still tell you to get settled?’ ‘No,’ laughs Yuvraj. ‘Now they have also been bitten by the travel bug. Earlier their trips were just restricted to all the holy temples. Last year for the first time they travelled to Andaman Islands. I sponsored the trip. This time my brother and me are sponsoring their trip to Singapore and Malaysia! I am also going back to my old job as an art dealer. I will be flying to the States soon!’
All photographs by Yuvraj Parasuraman
Copyright reserved
This article by Shailaza Singh recently appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section.
He is tall. He is dark. He is handsome. Your typical Mills and Boons brooding hero. Only that he isn’t looking for the happily ever after. In fact, he runs in the opposite direction if he meets someone loaded with the ‘happily ever after’. Meet Yuvraj Parasuraman who is a gypsy at heart. He looks at the world through the lens of his camera. He has been bitten hard by wanderlust and he isn’t complaining. He roams the world, clicking everything that he finds and he says he still has miles to go before he sleeps and I met him in Dharamsala, commonly known as His Holiness Dalai Lama’s abode.
Yuvraj Parasuraman is a self-confessed travel addict. This photographer has roamed the world, seen places and yet he says at 34 ‘his journey has just begun’. I met Yuvraj for the first time in a charcoal drawing workshop in Dharamkot, a quiet suburb of Dharamsala. My daughter and I were sitting in the class of about 10 people when I noticed this tall, dark man working away on his drawing. There was something about him that caught my attention. Perhaps he was too focussed on creating the light in his drawing. When the instructor Rohit Kishan called for a break, he went out and stood gazing at the hilly forest of deodars. Though he was approachable and we were chit chatting in an instant, it took time for this introvert to open up. However, when he narrated his story, the conversation was as intriguing as the man himself.
Creating light
‘Why would a photographer enrol in a charcoal sketching class?’ I asked him. ‘I wanted to learn more about light and charcoal sketching is the best way to understand light. The way you create an entire image with just charcoal and light is fascinating!’
‘When did you decide to become a photographer?’
‘I was 15 years old when I tuned into Fashion TV for the first time. My parents were busy elsewhere. I was watching the making of the Pirelli Calendar 2004 and had an eye on the door because I knew my mom could walk in anytime. I was mesmerized by not just the bevy of beautiful women in that frame but also the way they were playing with the light, colours and the movements. I think it was love at first sight! I was fascinated by the way photography could capture all of life’s interesting stories!’
‘So, when did the travel bug bite you?’
‘After studying visual communication in Madras Christian College, I started working in advertising where I would assist renowned photographers. Though the pay was good and the work was interesting, I felt restless because I wanted to travel.’
‘But aren’t there outdoor shoots in advertising?’
‘There are but those are few and far between. Besides you hardly get to see the places when you go for these shoots. You just focus on the shoots, stay in the hotel and then come back. That was not what I was looking for.’
Travel Bug Bites
‘You say you love travelling. When did you first experience the magic of travel?’
‘When I was working in the field of advertising, I used to take these holidays and backpack to different places. The first place I went to was the Sun Festival in Goa. I was just eighteen years old at that time. One day in Goa, I was having my cup of tea on beach and watching the ocean. During that time, I realized that my life in the city is too boring and maybe I should do something else. I started going there every year and slowly Goa became my home.’
‘So, have you settled in Goa?’
‘No, I don’t settle anywhere. I keep travelling. Every year, I stay a month or two in Goa. I don’t really have a base anywhere.’ Not even his parent’s place in Chennai? ‘I visit Chennai off and on because my parents, brother and my friends live there. I don’t stay in Chennai for more than a month though my parents want me to stay in Chennai and take up a more settled kind of job. Since the last ten years, they have been trying to come up with a plan to get me married but I know for sure that it’s not happening. I keep telling them that I am not interested but when they really force me, I run away from Chennai too!’
Run for life
‘So, do you not want to get married at all ever?’
Yuvraj smiles. ‘No, it is not like that. I was contemplating the idea of marriage some years ago. I was in a relationship with a Chinese girl who was working on the same ship. Whenever, our ship used to dock in a country, we used to go out. Over a period of four months, I had developed a fondness for her and was even toying with the idea of marrying her and going to China. I got transferred to another ship but we used to keep meeting. Sometimes, we would go to lunch in Miami or just have a casual date. I used to call her from my ship. Once during the marriage planning phase, I happened to casually ask her if she would be okay if I was to go for a solo trip for a month once a year after marriage because I have to travel solo at least once a year. That is who I am! But she refused point blank. She told me that I couldn’t go on a solo trip because she would be with me all the time! That did it! I slowly distanced myself from her and perhaps she also understood!’
Cruising the world
For most of his professional life, Yuvraj has been working in cruise ships that travel all over the world and fuel his ‘banjarapan’. ‘I was an art dealer who used to work for a company called the Park West Gallery. This museum in Michigan was started by a former NASA scientist (mechanical engineer) Albert Scaglione in 1969. The idea was to collect works of all contemporary artists from across the world. He founded this company and started collecting art works from his friends. He collected all kinds of works of not just great artists but also the upcoming ones and masters. He started doing auctions on cruise ships for these works. Now, we have a museum in Michigan and three other galleries, in Hawaii, New York, Las Vegas.’
Ship race
‘Interesting! From backpacking to cruise ships. How different is the experience?’
‘It is fantastic! I love roaming the world and I have a job where I wake up in a new city or country almost every day. Cruise life is completely different. It’s not like a backpacker’s life. It is more of a contract wherein you work in one or two or three cruise ships. Once I worked in three cruise ships in a period of just six months. My company can post me to any of their cruise lines. So, someday, I may be on a Carnival Cruise Line, the other day I would be on Royal Caribbean or any other such cruise lines. I have been all over the Caribbean but mostly I have spent just a few hours or a day in cities or countries. The ship docks in a city. We spend the day; we go out and have lunch or drinks and come back. We live on a cruise ship for about six to eight months. Once in Columbia, we went out with some guests and friends to have a good time since there weren’t any interesting restaurants near the place where we had docked. We found a place which was quite far off which was amazing. After some hours, I realized that we needed to get back to the ship else we may miss it! Some of my friends were busy enjoying themselves and did not want to go. However, after a lot of cajoling and convincing (everyone was high on drinks), we got into a taxi. As luck would have it, the taxi driver did not speak English, he spoke Spanish. So, when we tried to tell him to speed up the car, he couldn’t understand. I used the Google translator to help him understand (I always use a google translator). We finally reached the port. On a ship, different protocols are followed for guests and crew members. While no one says anything to the guests, we (the crew members) were warned for being late. The ship waits for no one, not even the guests. If the guests miss their ships and then they have to fly back to their home country.’
To be continued
All photographs by Yuvraj Parasuraman
Copyright reserved
This article by Shailaza Singh recently appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section
There is something about His Holiness The Dalai Lama that disarms you the moment you meet him. Thoughts fly out of your mind, you forget what you had to say and become as happy as a toddler who is given his favourite toy. Without lifting a finger, this man creates some powerful magic- his key ingredient is compassion.
The Dalai Lama
How do I stop the thoughts in my mind?’ ‘By compassion. Karuna. When you have karuna, you no longer have thoughts about others. The Chinese took away my land from me but I don’t have anything against them. Have compassion.’ These words were no ordinary words; the speaker was not an ordinary man. He was Jetsun Jamphel Ngawang Lobsang Yeshe Tenzin Gyatso, also known as His Holiness, The Dalai Lama XIV . My daughter and I were meeting him at his residence in McLeod Ganj. The meeting itself was serendipitous.
The Dalai Lama with the Indian Visitors
My daughter and I had been to McLeod Ganj before too. Each time, we used to visit the Dalai Lama temple, we used to stare at his photograph and my daughter used to ask me, ‘Mom, does he live here?’ I used to nod. ‘Why can’t we meet him?’ ‘Because he does not meet everybody?’ ‘Why not. I want to meet him!’ When we had last visited McLeod Gunj in 2022, she had actually prayed to his photograph. ‘I really want to meet you. I feel as if you are my grandfather. Please.’ At that time, I didn’t pay much heed to her conversation with his photograph. After we came back to Jaipur, she never mentioned this incident and I too had forgotten about it. But this time when we were getting ready to visit Dharamshala again for her summer holidays, I saw a photograph of Dalai Lama on the internet. ‘What if I could meet him?’ I wondered. I visited his site and tried to look up his public program.
There wasn’t much there except the email address of his office. I emailed his office but wasn’t really expecting a reply especially because his official website had categorically mentioned that in view of his old age, his meetings and public appearances were quite limited. I checked after a week, there was no reply. During this time, I also saw the pictures of the well known actress Preity Zinta and her husband meeting the Dalai Lama. Looking at those pictures, I decided to email them again on a Sunday. Worst case scenario? They won’t reply! At least I would know I tried. I was browsing the net on Tuesday, when I saw a notification on my email. It said ‘The Dalai Lama’s Office’. I clicked it and there it was- the reply that I had been hoping and waiting for – ‘We will be able to include you in our outdoor public blessing. You need to report at our office at 7 am. Please note masks are mandatory.’
The Dalai Lama
They had also included a form in which I had to enter our Aadhar card numbers. I looked at the email again hardly daring to believe my eyes. Was it a hoax? Was it real? Will I really get to meet ‘The Dalai Lama’, the Nobel Laureate? The email looked genuine enough. I tried the numbers mentioned on the email but no one picked up. Finally, I wrote back confirming my availability on the schedule and requested an acknowledgement to the mail. The acknowledgement took 24 hours in coming; a day that was plagued with all kinds of doubts. What if it was some elaborate plan to trap me? But my worries were laid to rest when I received a very simple ‘Thanks, I have received it.’ I could hardly believe my luck! I was finally going to meet not just the man who had received the 1989 Nobel Peace Prize or the man who has given China sleepless nights by simply being him but someone who is considered a living God, the revered reincarnation of the Buddha of Compassion (Avalokiteśvara), by Tibetans and Buddhists all over the world, the former spiritual and temporal ruler of Tibet! When I told my daughter about it, she was ecstatic!
Though Dharamshala is said to be the headquarters of The Dalai Lama, he actually resides in McLeod Ganj, a little suburb of Dharamshala, which was about 5 kilometres from where we were staying. I was so excited that I could not sleep the night before. It had rained through out the night. Thankfully, the rains had stopped just before the dawn. It was a beautiful morning. We reached the Dalai Lama temple, which serves as the residence of the Dalai Lama. It has a beautiful garden that surrounds the courtyard, which is decked by trees and lined by pathways on either side and ends at a large pagoda like structure which serves as a veradah. I could see a long line of people already waiting for His Holiness. These were mostly Tibetans who were settled in Dharamshala or McLeod Ganj.
The Dalai Lama
The Tibetans were sitting in a line and chatting away happily. They were all dressed in their Sunday best. After all, they were going to meet their beloved God. There were also a lot of Indians like us and a couple of foreigners who had perhaps come for the first time to meet the Dalai Lama.
The Dalai Lama meeting people
The guards told us to wait but I kept having doubts. What if the Dalai Lama doesn’t come? What if the event is cancelled? What if it rains? There were many like me who could not wait quietly. Every two minutes, there was some one or the other from the group who had to walk to the guards with a new query. But the guards had also probably imbibed some of the compassion and patience that the Dalai Lama is famous for. They answered all the questions patiently. After a while, some one from the office came with a sheet of paper and called out our names. Once that process was over, all the Indians were asked to sit in a well lit and ventilated sitting room which was adorned with photographs and posters of Dalai Lama. Soon, all the Indians were called and requested to queue up for the security check. And boy! What a security check it was. Everything was checked. We had women security guards and they thoroughly frisked us. Our bags, wallets, belts, mobiles and everything else was marked and coded with yellow paper tokens and kept aside. We were given a corresponding token to help us to recognize our bags during collection. ‘But what about the photographs?’ my daughter protested. ‘The photographs will be taken and sent to you,’ said the security guard. Once the security check was done, we were again asked to stand in a line in the veranda with our masks on our faces. We waited with baited breath. Soon, the Dalai Lama entered the veranda. He couldn’t walk much so he was supported by two monks who helped him to sit down on his chair. The guards requested us to come one by one. We had diligently worn our masks because the email and the guards had asked us to. But the Dalai Lama had perhaps not paid any attention to these instructions. In his audience was a little girl, about 10 years old. He asked her to pull down her mask so that he could see her properly. He held her hand and whispered a prayer for her. But it was not just for her. Each person that he met received the same treatment. The same warm smile, the holding of the hands, the whispering of the prayer. A lady who was waiting ahead of us remarked to her husband, ‘this is why they say that the climate in Dharamshala is always pleasant. It is his aura that makes every thing so beautiful here.’ Soon, it was our turn. We walked to him and he smiled. I bent down to touch his feet and he blessed me. As I rose up, he took both my daughter’s and my hand and murmured a small prayer. He inquired about what we did and I told him that I was a journalist. My daughter asked him, ‘How do I stop all these negative thoughts in my mind?’ He looked at the interpreter who translated her question into Tibetic language. He smiled, held our hands and replied in English, ‘You stop these thoughts through compassion, through ‘karuna’. When you have compassion towards yourself, your friends, family and even people who don’t like you, the negative thoughts stop. With compassion, you start understanding that the people who hurt you or trouble you are too are bound by their own destiny, circumstances and problems. Sometimes, things don’t happen the way we want them to. Then we start blaming ourselves, people around us or our country or the world. Compassion helps us. Even though the Chinese have taken away my motherland from me, I can only bless them with compassion. I have nothing against them. Have ‘karuna’ towards people and yourself and you will not think any negative thoughts.’ Tears of joy filled my eyes as he blessed us and we moved forward. We were given the customary red thread and the prasadam by some senior monks. As we walked out of the sprawling premises of the Dalai Lama temple, I couldn’t help marvel at the simplicity of this man who was a world leader and a God for millions. After walking in silence for some time, my daughter said, ‘He doesn’t seem like my grandfather; he is my fairy god father!’
This article titled Dalai Lama and I by Shailaza Singh was published in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on July 4, 2023
…Hardworking, innovative, out of box thinker, so much admired, but never a favourite of any politician
He had about 34 postings in 33 years of service. Some of the postings have lasted just about 4 months. Yet P N Bhandari, former IAS officer has never complained. In fact, he is almost arrogantly proud of what he has achieved in his three decades of government service, seeking justice rather than mere adherence of law.
P N Bhandari, former IAS officer and Addnl. CS
Once the CM Bhairon Singh Shekhawat, asked a senior officer who knew PN Bhandari from his childhood days and hailed from PN Bhandari’s home town Jodhpur ‘why is P N so ‘akdu’?’ The senior bureaucrat laughingly told him that as the legend goes, that all Oswals of Jodhpur were Rajputs who converted to Jainism. The last of this lot who joined this transformation were the Bhandaris of Jodhpur. Hence, they are more like Rajputs.
It is worth mentioning here that Bhairon Singh was a great admirer of Bhandari as a bureaucrat. In fact, once in the assembly, when he was the leader of the opposition, he got up to defend Bhandari, who was commissioner, sales tax and was being attacked in the assembly by young Nathu Singh, a leader of Bhairon Singhs party for waiving off interest amount in an overdue payment worth crore. Bhairon Singh told his young MLA that PN Bhandari’s integrity and commitment is unquestionable, so there should never be an iota of doubt about his honesty. Later when they met at a social function (marriage), Shekhawat Saab told PN Bhandari that he defended him in the assembly ‘because if an officer like you is attacked, it will actually sully our credibility.’ But where did Bhandari get this steely style of conviction and governance? How did he have such self-belief which over time developed into hardened, unchangeable, intense commitment?
Aristocratic Taste After talking to his friends, it was evident that Bhandari was greatly influenced by two people in his life- his father, who was a government employee in the labour department and his maternal uncle, Justice Inderjeet Modi who later on became the chief justice of Rajasthan. Both were men of letters, very disciplined, very meticulously painstaking in their work. Both came from mainly Marwari speaking background, but both were known for their exclusive English as is evident from Bhandari’s father’s letters written to his son and Justice Modi’s judgements that he penned in the court. However, Justice Modi was known for his aristocratic taste, his love for expensive cars. He was also quite close to the Hanwant Singh, the erstwhile maharaja of Jodhpur. Bhandari’s father died early and the family sent Bhandari’s sister and him to live and study with his mama Modi. Bhandari inherited both the men’s dedication and fluency in English language, but he did not inherit the aristocratic sartorial taste and style of his maternal uncle. Till today, whether it is about his attire or tastes, Bhandari is a simple man almost austere in his mannerisms. The question is where did he get his ‘akdupan’? The general belief is that he developed his unique style on his own. This style also entails a single-minded devotion to work. His son Rajneesh recalls that while growing up, he hardly got any time to interact with PN Bhandari. Bhandari was working or dwelling in his work where ever he was posted. There was a library at home of about 5000 books but not Perry Mason type fiction but substantive and heavy reading ones. There was no television at home till Rajneesh passed his twelfth standard but every weekend his mother would pack up some lunch and the family would be out in the country side where Bhandari would meet people to talk to them alone or in groups. This was his style of getting feedback. The night before the family left for this (‘holiday’), Bhandari would give Rajneesh a book, a serious and fat one. All throughout the journey Bhandari would intensely and passionately discuss the contents of the book: analysing, debating, illustrating with examples and incidents.
Strong Conviction Once as the car journey started, Bhandari realized the book was in the dickie of the car. He parked the car and opened the dickie to retrieve the book. The bonnet fell on his head as he was rampaging through the luggage for the book. The hook got embedded in his head. There was massive bleeding as Rajneesh recalls he was frightened out of his wits. Bhandari was rushed to the nearest hospital. The treatment took some time and stitches under anaesthesia and the doctor asked him to have complete rest in the day. But Bhandari ji was back on the wheels and resumed the discussion on the book as if nothing had happened and the intermission or the tea break was over. Rajneesh also remembers from his childhood, that at home there was such great intensity about work that there were no diversions like even going out to eat. Rajneesh says he studied in nine schools of all types: Hindi medium, English medium, government schools, private schools, all over Rajasthan, wherever his mother was posted in government college and Bhandari in the government in the same place. It was often discussed in government circles why Bhandari did not take a posting in Delhi where his innovativeness would have found a wider and more appreciative audience. Probably the answer is that he needed the money; because the salaries of wife and self were required to run the large family of five brothers and sisters and he happened to be the head of the family. Oh yes, there was one cheating. Wherever he was posted in rural, semirural or urban centre, there used to be almost once a week, late night movie on Saturday night in the hall because then and even now Bhandari and his wife are fond of movies but not at home or Netflix or television. Television even today is only meant for news as a part of Bhandari’s effort to know what is happening in the society. This single-minded concentration had helped Bhandari top the Rajasthan judiciary exam. The mama, the great jurist was surprised. He said, ‘you can become IAS officer. Study and take the exam.’ Bhandari protested, ‘You are the only one who prevented me from trying for IAS. And now when it is almost too late, you are asking me to do it. Only one chance remains for me to qualify.’ But mama persisted and told him, ‘Take your cousin D.R (Mehta’s) notes. He had worked very hard and prepared extensive notes and has just got into IAS (the first one in the family).’ The rest is history. Bhandari became the second IAS officer in the family. Even today his nature of cutting the fuss and getting along with the work keeps him going. After retirement, he took up law, nothing greatly unusual but during COVID when his stenos found it hard to come to office or home for dictation, he learnt at the ripe age of 80 plus the use of the computer from his granddaughter who returned home after completing her course in innovation and engineering. Now he is so adept at it that he handles (types etc) long, lengthy complex files of his cases all by himself. As you get to know him better, you realize that the so-called arrogance is actually an unyielding, uncompromising style in work and general existence. But what really dawns through is his conviction. His views are so well shaped in his mind that they are almost etched in his psyche and personality. He feels that his conviction in his thoughts don’t need any correction. This strong conviction gives maybe him the strength to stick to his views and out of the box thinking no matter how unconventional or irritating his approach may appear to his seniors or colleagues. Out of the box as implied by definition is not simply about not treading on well-trodden paths mentally but almost shunning these conventional methods and trying to find new and solutions. For being so daring, one has to have a lot of self-belief. To be continued…
This article by Shailaza Singh was published in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on 5 May 2023
She has seen and survived abuse. But Nilanjana Bhowmick refuses to believe that women are lesser than men in any way. In her search for the truth, she has dispelled all the lies that the women were told by their own mothers about how pleasing and serving their husbands and taking care of their children is the only aim of their lives.
Her mother was a detective police officer. Her father was a businessman. Every month, her mother would hand over her salary to her father who would then give her mother a monthly allowance. Every time he did not like the vegetable or dal that her mother or her grandmother cooked, her father would throw the utensils in a fit of anger. The witness to this exercise were the permanent stains of the dal borne by her living room’s walls. Though her mother was a detective police officer (one would think that she knew the law and people would be scared of her), she was constantly abused by her father. He did not want her to continue her job and for her mother, job was the only outlet she had, so she refused to give it up. Her father did not let her mother have friends or invite her colleagues home and constantly suspected her of having affairs with her colleagues.
Nilanjana Bhowmick’s Story in Time Magazine
These are not words out of a novel or a story. This is the life story of Nilanjana Bhowmick, an independent award-wining journalist from New Delhi and the author of Lies Our Mothers Told Us. Nilanjana has worked with a variety of well known media publications for the last two decades including BBC and the TIME Magazine. She was awarded by the European Commission and the Institute of Development Studies (IDS) in the UK for her work on gender and social justice and has been featured in the 2019 Women of Impact issue of the National Geographic Magazine. Her book Lies Our Mothers Told Us talks about the gender equalities inside India’s middle class.
Nilanjana Bhowmick with her husband Tathagata on their wedding day
ESCAPING PATRIARCHY Meeting Nilanjana Bhowmick at the Jaipur Literature Festival 2023 is a revelation of sorts into the human nature. It is difficult to believe that behind that candid demeanour and full-blown laughter lies a childhood of abuse and love. The interesting bit is that she could have escaped all that when she landed a gig with BBC. Yet she chose to come back to India. The conversation that ensued was quite riveting. When one asked her why she chose to come back to India, she said, ‘I had to come back to India as I believed that my true calling lay here. I know in a developed country there is security, there is money but I wasn’t happy in my work. I felt a lack of challenge. I came back to India in 2002-03 and I joined The Times of India Newspaper because I wanted to learn print journalism and my first assignment was to write about an old age home, which was being run by some minister. So, I went and met these old people living there. Most of their children were living abroad. Physically they seemed okay but I was struck by how lonely they all were. All their children were doing well in life but the parents had nothing to look forward too. When I came back home, I couldn’t sleep for three nights. I kept crying and I couldn’t forget the emptiness that I saw in their eyes. My mother who has herself been a cop said that as a journalist I couldn’t be that empathetic with my subjects otherwise I won’t be able to work. Over the years, I realized the wisdom of her words. It did take time to develop a thick skin but despite that I still get affected by the people I talk to. My therapist says this is because I am an empath or a person who tends to be acutely perceptive of the feelings or emotions of other people.’ What inspired her to write Lies Our Mothers Told Us? ‘Apart from my mother, I have seen a number of women being subjected to these kind of abuses and neglect. But most of them glorify it. Some of these women feel ‘lucky’ that they were ‘allowed’ to go outside and work so they show their gratitude by working hard inside and outside the house. For Indian parents, marriage is the be-all and end-all of their lives. They bring up their daughters to think that if they don’t get married at the right age, their lives aren’t great. Secondly, a lot of women want to get married because they want to escape patriarchy at home. Most women are always told that they are ‘paraya dhan’ and they can only live their lives the way they want only once they get married. For them, their ultimate aim of life is to get married. Some of them feel lucky enough to find someone who accepts them and loves them for who they are (at least in the courtship period) . But some are not so lucky and get boyfriends who mistreat them but still they get married to such abusive boyfriends just to escape the patriarchy of their fathers or brothers.’ But don’t you think Indian women have progressed a great deal in the past few decades? ‘Yes, to an extent that is true. But even today, most parents and even relatives feel that the only job of parents is to marry off their daughter at the right age. I remember when I had first got a chance to study abroad, my mom was very proud. My aunts had come over and were trying to dissuade my mother from sending me since they felt that sending me abroad won’t do me any good since ultimately my place is in the kitchen of my husband!’ But then is thinking about marriage wrong? ‘No, but don’t make that the ultimate aim of your daughter’s life! Educate her, let her explore the world. Don’t start saving for your daughter’s marriage. I had a friend whose mother used to gift my friend’s daughter some gold ornament on every birthday, so that she could build a substantial dowry for her.’
Nilanjana Bhowmick with her son Che
A BURDEN OR BOJH Most parents would say that it is the societal norms that compel them to marry off their daughters. A single girl in the family is looked down upon. ‘Yes I know but then the change has to come from the parents themselves. If you see in most families, it is the mothers who start worrying about their daughters’ marriages. The change will only come when the mothers will stop thinking that the marriage is the end all of the world and will start instilling confidence and a sense of belonging in their daughters instead of making them feel as if they are an unwanted burden or just a guest in her own house. I think we should normalize ‘being single’ for women.’ But there are people who say that we consider our daughters like our sons. Statements like ye hamari beti nahin beta hai are quite common. Many parents have encouraged their daughters to work and live an independent life. ‘Some people do tell me that they are very ‘progressive in their thinking’ and they treat their daughters like ‘sons’. But what they don’t realize is the amount of mental trauma that they put on their daughters by labelling them as ‘sons’. A daughter looking after her parents should be treated as a daughter, not as a son. Just imagine, what kind of a mental trauma does a girl go through- when she cannot do anything for the parents, she is labelled as a burden or bhoj. When she does something, she is called a son and not a daughter. In a way, she is not acknowledged as a daughter no matter what she does. Don’t you think that is unfair? As far as the women who achieve are concerned, I feel they are still in silos. Those who achieve something are mostly thought of as those who are intellectually better off, more privileged. Yes, there are women who are educated working professionals. But do you see the kind of pressure they have to bear? They are not just expected to take care of their job, earn money for the family but also take care of the children, attend the parent teacher meetings, make the children do the homework, take care of the home. Most of them are ‘allowed’ to work only if they promise not to burden their husband or in-laws with any of their ‘household’ responsibilities.’
Receiving the award for best story from Asia-Pacific at the Diageo Women Empowerment Awards in 2014
ACHIEVING EQUALITY
Have you faced any discrimination at work? ‘Yes! All my life I have faced discrimination. When I had first come to India after my stint at BBC and joined the Times of India, I didn’t know what salary was norm, so I took whatever salary they offered me since I wanted a footing in this field. After three months, a new guy (who is now my husband) joined at the same level as me and I came to know that his salary was fifty percent more than mine. I went to the HR and inquired but they said that I should have brought this up when I had joined and they made it very clear to me that if I am not happy, I could leave. Women have always been dispensable part of the workforce. My mom was also of the opinion that I was lucky enough to get the job and I should just do the job and not get into these salary discussions because she felt that if I lost my job, I would have to be dependent on some body. In my life, I have been pushed out of every newsroom that I have worked in because I tend to speak my mind and the ‘boys’ clubs in most organizations didn’t like that. I make no bones about the fact that I am ambitious, a go getter with new ideas, I have been open about my ideas and that has not gone well with most people. So, eventually, I have been a freelancer for most of my life.’ Looking at the current scenario, don’t you think achieving equality for women is quite a tall order? ‘ I think we can achieve this. Just look at the progress that has been made. My husband is a man who says ‘why not’ instead of ‘why’ whenever I want to do something new in my personal or professional life. Men like these also exist. Earlier women weren’t allowed to vote, today they vote, they weren’t allowed to drive or work in offices. Today the scenario has changed. So, I completely believe that there will come a day when ‘being single’ will no longer be an anomaly for an Indian woman. If we keep talking about it, if we keep having these discussions, I am sure there will be a day when being single will no longer be a cause of concern for a woman. I believe that there will be a day when parents will say ‘our daughters are not our sons, they are much better than our sons!’
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on Sunday March 5, 2023
Durjoy Datta has ruled the world of romantic novels since 2008. All his books have been bestsellers in the teen world. This engineer turned writer is now also writing for movies and serials.
Judging by the crowds of youngsters following him at the recently concluded Jaipur Literature Festival, if Shah Rukh Khan is the king of romance in movies, Durjoy Datta can be called the king of romance in novels. Since 2008, with his first book ‘Of course I Love You Till I Find Someone Better’ he has been ruling the hearts of millions of teenage readers, especially girls. An engineer by education, Durjoy tasted success at the age of 21 while in the final year of his college. Slowly as each of his books started topping the bestseller lists, he decided to turn into a full-time writer with a specialization in romance. On reading his books, one would expect the author to be the traditional chocolate faced hero, however Durjoy Datta is quite different from the common perceptions. He is soft-spoken guy who believes that romance is the only pond he’d like to circle. Some excerpts from the tete-e-tat:
From the time you published your first book in 2008 to today, how have you evolved as a writer?
I think at that time, I was a teenager and had a different perspective on romance. After my first book was declared a best seller, writing became a means to earn money. But over the years, I have started enjoying writing and the kind of freedom I get with it. Hence, I would like to safeguard my career as a writer.
Why do you only like writing romance? Why don’t you experiment with other genres like fantasy or mystery etc?
To be honest, earlier romance used to be the main theme in my novel but now it has become incidental. I have also written mystery novels, but my books are still sold as romance novels since my strong point is romance. I know what the limit to my talent is. For me, it is the easiest to make the characters fall in love with each other. Even in television shows, you can do it for 6-7 seasons. In India, you cannot write fantasy unless it is backed by some mythology. I am just waiting that someone sets a precedent and I will hang on to it and write my own fantasy novel.
From a college boy to a married man and now a father. How has your writing changed with the changes in your life? I think now I cannot write about teenage romances or young romances the way I used to. I am 37 years old. I can only write what I feel strongly about otherwise it will look artificial and put on. When I am writing a book, I look forward to constructing a good story. All of my earlier writing was touch and feel-I just wanted to know what the characters feel like. Now they are more in-depth. In my book, The Boy who Loved which was published in 2017, the story of the boy was set in 1999. So for the story, I had to travel back to 1999 and remember how I was in that time. My latest novel When I Am With You is about a single mother who is also an entrepreneur and is dealing with a new relationship as well.
So, what kind of a person were you in 1999? How has the world changed from then to now? Frankly speaking in 1999, I was just 12 years old. At that age, I was really intimidated by women. In those days, even if you had a crush on someone, you couldn’t talk to them or express your feelings . But today, the society has shifted. Earlier it was all cloaks and daggers but now we can have open conversations about most things. Now people can express themselves. I remember in those days, there were two different worlds of girls and guys where each had their own groups. They had clandestine messages which if discovered by the elders could wreak havoc. Now the barriers have broken down even in the interiors to a large extent.
As a person who specializes in romance, you must have read a lot of romantic books in your young years? Actually, not at all! In my childhood, most of my reading has been dictated by my parents. Book reading was compulsory at bed time and no romance was allowed. I used to read Enid Blyton, John Grisham, Stephen King. After a while, ,my parents tried to introduce me to Salman Rushdie’s work. Initially I didn’t understand what he was talking about but then after a while I could relate to the books. In fact, I did not even know romance as a genre. Most of my introduction to romance has been while writing for television where you can create two extremely likeable characters and then make them fall in love and continue for the next 1200 episodes. People say with the social media and Kindle, paper books are not going to be around for long. What are your thoughts? I remember hearing about it in 2008. People used to say that with the introduction of tablets and smart phones, books won’t last for long but now it is 2023 and books are still here! Are you on social media? Has social media taken over books? Earlier I was on social media and when I used to get into my Instagram account, I used to spend hours swiping. I used to think that if I am doing this, my readers would also be doing this. But lately I have started noticing that many people have dumped Instagram and have started reading books. I really got hooked on to the social media when I became a parent. Parenthood is extremely boring- at least for the first few years. So, Instagram helps you to reconnect with your child in a different way. For example, when I see my daughter doing something cute, I record it and post it. When people find it cute and like it, I go back and look at that 15 second clip to see what is cute in it. This way I use my followers as a dopamine fix. But then this used to take over my life because I used to then think about what should be the next video to maintain the same likes. So, I pulled back. Now I am on social media just to sell my books. What is the difference between writing for television and writing novels? The difference between writing for television and a novel is a lot. Writing a book is a solitary exercise. There isn’t much money unless your book becomes a best seller. But in case of television, the money is huge and the feedback of the writing is almost instantaneous. For example, if I publish a book today, the feedback will come after six months but in case of an episode, the feedback comes the very next day through the TRPS. That allows the writer to change his ploy if the TRPs aren’t good or the audience isn’t enjoying the story.
So, how much does TRP impact writing for television? Actually TRP ratings are the life blood of television. The fact is that on television, a show cannot survive if it does not have high drama. Trends also dictate the show. For example, five years ago, there was this huge trend of getting animals on the show, so everyone followed that. Every show that you see on television starts with a very noble thought. They have a social issue they want to tackle through a story. But eventually every one has put on so much of money, that they try to get as much traction as possible. I remember Kuch Rang Pyar Ke Aise Bhi was perhaps one of the only shows in the history of television that went for so long because everyone involved in that show believed in that show. The interesting thing is that though it did not have the usual saas bahu drama or those stories of reincarnation etc and it was a very progressive show, it still did not get good TRPs. Despite that the producers, the writers and the creators kept giving the show time so that people could see its value. And people saw its value. It is one of the highest watched shows on YouTube. A lot of people go back and watch the show. But it did not get the traditional TRPs. Do you think this kind of TRP governed shows are impacting our society? Of course, there are conversations about this everywhere. For example, on social media a lot of people talk about toxic boyfriends but toxic husbands have been a theme on television for like years. Now its like a self-fulfilling prophecy. You don’t want to show such a thing but when you show it, your show works and attracts TRPs. That really impacts me since I am so emotionally invested as a writer. Here book writing is way better because by the time the book comes out and actually makes an impact in a year or two, you are a very different person. Also, once the book is read and the reaction comes, I cannot change the book as per the feedback by the readers. Do you doubt yourself at times? There are times when I am afflicted with crippling self-doubt because honestly I had not expected that my first book would be published and would become a best seller. You see the difference between the kind of books I read and write is huge. I got published at 21 when I was reading books that were leagues and leagues ahead of my book. Then when people say that they have read and liked my books, I start wondering if they have read the really ‘good’ books. Had you not tasted success in such a young age, would you have continued writing? I have would have continued writing in some form or the other. Before I started writing books, I had a very successful blog. Lot of my blogger friends advised me to write. Had the book not worked, I would have continued writing and would have found another way of leveraging my writing.
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on February 21st, 2023. You can also check out the video of the interview on https://youtu.be/h-DJ8jcLJ8Q
Once upon a time, in the land of kings, came an yearly festival that was adored and revered by all. It was about books, stories, authors, food, heritage and much more. But then the great storm of time blew in the land and all that remained were the authors, books and blank white walls.
‘Abhi to mandir bana hai aur murat ki stapna hui hai. Pran pratishta abhi baaki hai’. (The temple has been built, the idol has been installed. But the life spirit is yet to come). These were the words spoken by Padmashree Pushpesh Pant, the well known historian and a self- confessed foodie. The venue was the sixteenth edition of the Jaipur Literature Festival at the Clarks Amer Hotel in Jaipur. Last year, was the first time that JLF had been forced out of its original home in Diggi Palace Hotel and that too in the heat of March where people sweated profusely while tredding on the hot sands. This year, the God of seasons has smiled and the balmy winter sun has embraced people with open arms in the grounds of Hotel Clarks Amer. But has it remained the festival that it once was?
There was something that happened to you as you entered Diggi Palace for the Literature Festival. The old world charm of the building and its surroundings transported you to an era of Shakespeare or Dickens or even Enid Blyton or the old Jaipur where you could expect some royal person to welcome you or perhaps even imagine the tales of the lore. The walls of that place served as a perfect backdrop to the stories that were being narrated because the Palace itself housed a treasure trove of stories, an integral part of the heritage of Rajasthan. If you were more adventurous, you could probably smell a mystery or intrigue brewing amidst those green grounds or those ornately decorated rooms.. An interview with an author became an intimate affair peppered with stories as you sat listening to their anecdotes in one of the smaller anterooms or a tucked away corner.
If you were lucky enough, sometimes, as you shuffled through the jostling crowds you could bump into a Javed Akhtar or Gulzar or a Manisha Koirala or any such small or big celebrity. With some of the others, you could hope to say a hi at lunch or dinner. That was the literature festival we had grown to like and love, where anyone regardless of their caste, creed or income could enter freely to listen to the written word. A festival where a common man could meet a celebrity sans the forever present bouncers and body guards and relive, retell and perhaps treasure that one experience of meeting their idol for the rest of their lives.
I won’t be surprised if the person visiting the literature festival today would probably scoff at this narrative and even end up joking that perhaps I am undergoing a past life regression. Today’s literature fest has donned a new avatar. It has shedded the skin, bones, the blood of the pichla janam and has now become a full blown sheher ka mela albeit with a heart of steel. There is music, there are performances, there is drama but all wrapped in plastic casings. You can see them but you cannot touch them, let alone experience them. Or may be the entire festival is a buffet table set with ungarnished but seemingly good food.
Despite an entrance fee of 200 INR, the literati crowd has vanished and has now been replaced by selfie clicking fans. They aren’t interested in books or authors. Instead, they are just looking for a good selfie time. While walking around the literature festival venue, I initially almost felt guilty for disrupting these selfie masterpieces which were almost at every nook and corner but then after encountering a dozen or more with a hastily muttered sorry, I stopped apologizing for walking through their selfies and just walked away ignoring their glares.
On the first day of JLF, a strange incident happened. After lunch, I decided to visit the washroom for obvious reasons. However I found there were almost ten people waiting for their turn in that bathroom. I went to a floor above and discovered more ladies waiting their turn in this bathroom too. Someone advised me to try the next floor but when I went there, the floor was seemingly almost under construction or renovation ( could not ask anyone since there was no one around). Ultimately I reconciled to my fate and went back to the original washroom on the ground floor to wait for my turn. I had never faced this predicament in Diggi Palace for they always had a bevy of mobile bathrooms for those natural urges. Not that I am comparing or complaining. We should all learn to control our natural urges!
The crowds that thronged Gulzar’s or Sudha Murthy’s sessions were huge. Though it seemed as if her songs were adlibbed, people were still dancing to Usha Uthup’s songs. Many queued to get their books signed by their idols and perhaps that was where the fun was. In some sessions, people were busy scrolling their phones while the speakers droned on. Or perhaps that’s the new way of subconscious listening to enable better understanding.
I remember a dialogue from the movie ‘Band Baja Barat’. In a scene where Anushka Sharma and Ranveer Singh are trying to find a caterer for their wedding, their friend advises them ‘ Shaadi mein sabse zyada logon ko kya pasand hai? Khana! Woh saari sajawat bhool jayenge par khaana yaad karenge’ (people will forget everything about the wedding but they will remember the food that was served). Though this literature festival isn’t a wedding function per say, it is no less than one either. In the earlier days, one could expect to be introduced to new delicacies of the Rajasthani cuisine which made the literature festival an attraction for the lovers of food too. Today’s reality is quite different. There were those customary versions of sev matar or paneer or bajre ki rab which are perhaps as common place as a chola bhatura but it was no longer a food fest of the yesteryears. It was food, and food is for pure simple consumption, not for experiencing eclectic flavors. Veena, a home maker from Jaipur who visited the festival on Sunday said, ‘The food is so ordinary. Namak bhi kam hai (the salt is also less) We could have had better food in a restaurant. To think, we paid about 13,000 rupees for an entire day’s package. We did not even get to meet any celebrities during lunch. This is really a different festival. We weren’t expecting it !’
But then, people from Delhi or Punjab or apna Jaipur did not visit the literature festival to eat food or experience that wee bit of Rajasthan. They had come to listen to authors like the Nobel laureate Abdulrazak Gurnah or Shashi Tharoor or Deepti Naval or the plethora of other authors who had descended on the city. Most of them including Sudha Murthy, Shobha De professed their love for JLF in no uncertain words. They even said that this venue has more space and is much better than the old home of JLF. Perhaps they were right after all. The books were in the bookshop, the authors were on the dais, it was business as usual, what more could one ask for?
The culture was dusty and forgotten
On my way to the different venues of the literature festivals, I saw this little board which said ‘I love culture’. It was lying in a corner, dusty and forgotten.
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on January 24, 2023
It is often said that when a student is ready, the teacher appears and when he is truly ready, the teacher disappears. Dr. Pavan Shorey’s life has been a roller coaster of a myriad of emotions which he has learned to deal with. He believes meeting his guru helped him to gain a new lease of life.
Dr. Pavan Shorey
The well-known author Louise Hay says that the professions that we choose are more than our bread and butter. They also represent and help us to find our purpose in our lives. Dr. Pavan Shorey, who is actually a poet and a writer at heart, chose to become an ophthalmologist, a doctor of the eyes. He has helped millions to see the world but little did he know that finding a guru would also help him to see the world with new eyes.
‘In our initial meetings, my guru told me that though the tragedy has happened but life has to go on. He told me to wait for time to heal me and in the meanwhile do my karma of looking after my parents and my son. He wasn’t one of those saffron clad gurus with ashrams. In fact, he was a householder. He never asked his followers for any money or any materialistic thing. In fact that is one mark of a true guru. He will never ask you for any money or anything materialistic. Every evening we would meet in his house in Jaipur. There were 10-15 of us who were regular attendees. He had a lot of followers in different countries too. We would start our sessions with a meditation. After that, there were discourses which were mostly about the questions that his disciples asked. In the end of the session, we would recite the Hanuman Chalisa.’
The Valley of Flowers
So, what made him write ‘Conversations on a Park Bench’ and ‘The Mountain Deer’?
‘I was associated with my guru for about ten to fifteen years. He had helped me to overcome my grief and see the world in a different way. Though he passed away in 2018, even when he was around, I always wondered why can’t there be a book with his teachings in it? When I sat down to write ‘Conversations on a Park Bench’, in 2012, I had initially thought of writing about a lady who is groped by her boss and experiences vishadh and wonders about the purpose of her entire existence. But then, I thought of taking my story and fictionalizing it.’
How long did it take for him to write the two books? ‘I finished ‘Conversations on a Park Bench’ within a year. My friend Nihal was incredulous when I told him that I had written the book in a year. According to him, a book takes years of research and writing. However, I took four years to write my second book ‘The Mountain Deer’.
But why didn’t he think of writing an autobiography? ‘I don’t believe that I am that important. I had read somewhere that the great author Khushwant Singh had once told Amrita Pritam that the story of her life was so inconsequential and tiny that it could be written on the back of a revenue stamp. I too am of the same opinion. Moreover, I believe when you write fiction, you have the liberty to create conflict to keep the narrative flowing. A personal story is quite boring because you just keep listing your achievements and failures.’
So, are there some instances in the book where fiction meets real life? ‘Yes, in fact many. But there is one incident that I can never forget. In my book ‘Conversations on a Park Bench’, there is a chapter titled ‘Who Am I’ where the protagonist Vivek is going to a meeting with his colleague Prashant. He waits for him in the parking lot of the building where he sees the watchman sitting with his wife. Their small daughter (who is toddler) is playing nearby. Prashant comes down and they get into the car. Just then, Prashant’s phone rings and he starts reversing the car while talking on the phone. As he backs the car, they hear a thump sound. They get out of the car to find that the watchman’s small daughter has been crushed under the car. Vivek is shaken by the incident but he sees that his friend is so materialistic that he has no qualms about what he has done. He strikes a deal with the watchman and the doctor who was in charge of the case and wriggles out of the situation by paying both of them some money. When the watchman protests, he tells him that the child was a girl and had she lived he would have had to pay a lot of money for dowry and her marriage. So, this amount is good enough for him. Later he boosts to Vivek about how he used his ‘marketing skills’ to get out of the situation. Vivek feels revulsed and it is then that he questions himself about his life and who he really is. This chapter was based on a real incident. There was a man who brought the body of a small child to the hospital and I could see that the poor mother of the child sitting and crying helplessly. My friend got out of the situation by giving her a mere 30,000 rupees. Tears came into my eyes when I saw the plight of this couple and I was revulsed and repulsed by the whole thing. How can someone be so callous and cruel?’
‘There is another incident in the book that has been inspired from real life. In the book, after his wife Radhika’s death, Vivek’s father-in-law asks him to return the flat which was a wedding gift to the couple. Vivek feels bad but his guru advises him to become detached with such materialistic things and return the flat. This again happened with a friend of mine. When his wife died leaving behind his infant son, his in-laws took away the baby on the pretext that he will not be able to take care of the baby. They held the baby to ransom and demanded his wife’s provident fund money, jewellery, car etc. My friend was distraught and asked Guruji for advice. Guruji promptly asked him to return everything and get his son back.’
In both his books, death has been the turning point in the story. Being a doctor, how does death affect him? ‘As a result of years of medical training, doctors develop a clinical detachment from death. Though in my speciality deaths are quite unheard of, yet I too have developed a detachment from death. This is not taught; it is just something that is passed on from seniors to juniors. But then, years of studying spirituality have also taught me that even when the body dies, there is something that remains alive. I remember an incident that I have also mentioned in my book where I had gone to meet a friend’s wife in the hospital. She had 80 percent burns as a result of a gas cylinder that had burst in her home. In such a scenario there are almost nil chances of survival and the doctors cannot do anything except give palliative pain killers to the patient. When I entered the room, she was lying in covered frame. She asked me who I was and when I said it was me, Pavan, she recognised me. It was then I realized that though the body had almost gone, there was something in her that was still recognizing and responding to me. She passed away after a couple of days.’
From a bystander’s point of view, Dr. Shorey’s life has been quite a journey. So, doesn’t he feel lonely? ‘No, I don’t. I have my practice where I see my patients. My son who is 37 years old is married and we keep meeting every now and then. I spend a lot of time with my friend Nihal and his family. Apart from this, I regularly go on treks to the mountains. I have trekked to the Valley of Flowers, the Great Lakes of Kashmir and many other such places. When I am at home, I like to spend time gardening. I love to see my flowers grow and bloom. I like reading and listening to the works of Meena Kumari, Sahir Ludhianvi, Neeraj and many other famous poets. I love the bhajans of Mira Bai. But my all-time inspiration remains Robert Frost. I also keep writing new stories and poems. In fact, I have recently written a new poem that talks about my life at 60 something.’
I am still a young 60 something
I used to walk a kilometre in 10 minutes, Now I do it in fifteen. I get a little breathless, a little tired, But I am still fit like a teen. I am still a young 60 something.
I get a muscle pull in my bums, Or a sharp pain in the back. Docs say it is aging, I say I am fit to lift a wheat sack. I am still a young 60 something.
I get up from the bed, The whole world reels around me. My friends say cervical spondylosis, But I can easily bend over backwards for all to see. I am still a young 60 something.
I get up twice at night to pee. My friends say it is prostate, I have too many fluids at night, Guys, you have this negative trait. I am still a young 60 something.
I see a beautiful woman, My heart skips a beat. Where the mind goes, the body doesn’t follow, All fantasies take a retreat. I am an old 60 something.
Please join us on the 15th of January, 4 p.m. for an exclusive interaction with Dr. Pavan Shorey where he will be talking about his books, trekking, life and much more at Sudharma, Chameliwala Market, Opposite GPO, MI Road, Jaipur.
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on 15 January 2023.
‘And they lived happily ever after!’ This phrase has perhaps been a part of ninety five percent of the fairy tales, movies, stories that we may have read during our lifetimes (except for those who have a penchant for tragic endings). Most of them are simple stories – A boy and a girl meet, they fall in love, they get married, have children and they live happily ever after. What if it’s not happily ever after? What if one of them passes away? What does the other do then? Can someone still lead a happy life without your better half? How does one deal with such a loss?
A couple of weeks ago, in a strange reading binge (these days watching binges are more common) I read two books by the same author- Dr. Pavan Shorey.
His first book ‘Conversation on a Park Bench’ narrates a story about a 28 year old man Vivek Sharma, who loses his wife Radhika in a car accident. In one moment, they were happily speeding at the speed of 100 km per hour on the Jaipur Delhi highway when a truck coming from the wrong side hit them and changed Vivek’s life forever. In the aftermath of the accident and Radhika’s death, Vivek is constantly plagued with guilt and depression when he meets Dr. Madhav who helps him to conquer his grief and gain a deeper insight into life through insightful conversations. The book is peppered with conversations which weave in stories about human existence.
Conversations on a Park BenchThe Mountain Deer
His other book is titled ‘The Mountain Deer’ which is contemporary retelling of Katha Upanishad, an ancient Indian scripture which narrates the conversation between Nachiketa and Yama, the God of death. In the Mountain Deer, a young man Sarvagya ‘Shelly’ Pant, a resident of Mumbai starts questioning the very meaning of life when his grandmother breathes her last in his arms. When he has a heated argument with his father, the latter banishes him to his hometown in the Himalayas. The book takes the reader into Shelly’s tryst with the truth as he starts questioning his very existence and embarks on a very interesting spiritual journey. Naturally, when one reads such books (which have no picture of the author), one inadvertently creates the author’s image in the mind. In our first meeting, I was almost expecting to see a saffron clad monk-like, serious, solemn man who would start talking about purpose of life the moment we would meet. However, the person I met was casually dressed in jeans and T-shirt with a chilled-out vibe. His friend Nihal Mathur describes him as a doctor with a heart of a poet. So, I was prepared to hear some serious poems on the trials and tribulations of life when he recited a poem on a completely unexpected theme-
The Bespectacled Girl
Your spectacles You set aside For they imprison your eyes Your eyes, they seek release from the glassy cage You have so fashionably put
Your eyes So distant So remote I seek warmth and mischief in them
For your eyes stripped off your spectacles Will open windows to your heart.
He was quite candid. “In medical college, I had developed a huge crush on this senior student who used to wear spectacles. I wrote this poem for her but never shared it with her.’ So, does he write poems often? ‘Oh, yes! I have been writing poems from eighth class. I had written another poem which talked about the plight of the migrant labourers during the pandemic.
A Migrant’s Song
I drag myself up from a bed of stones My legs stiff as Bamboo poles l have many a hundred miles to walk Will I make it to my home, my goal Sab kuch hai Ram Bharose!
l am a 10th fail, only job i got was of a labourer Half my wage I sent to my family l slept in a Juggi, six persons to a room There were times I had to sleep hungry Sab kuch hai Ram Bharose!
I have no work, the factory is closed Hunger will kill us before the virus can I sold my phone for two thousand rupees I save it for a bus ride, if I am lucky to find one Sub kuch hai Ram Bharose!
On the way, some are runover by trucks Some are crushed by trains We were abandoned like orphans It is not in our right to cry out in pain Sab kuch hai Ram Bharose!
I bandage the foot blisters with rags I curse myself, I curse my low birth We do not matter, we do not matter A helpless rage in me, we the scum of the earth Sab kuch hai Ram Bharose!
The sun is up in the sky, I settle down to sleep I drift into a dream, wind whistling past my ears I am on a motorcycle with my wife and son I am so happy, I never was in years But dreams dont last, I wake up and trudge on The never ending road ahead of me Sab kuch hai Ram Bharose! Sab kuch hai Ram Bharose!
An alumnus of St. Xavier’s School, Jaipur, Dr. Shorey believes that the Fathers of the school helped him to discover his love for poems and stories and hone his talent.
“I loved reading authors like Dostoevsky and Solzhenitsyn. I had a strange hunger to delve int the English vocabulary and a penchant for selecting long and difficult words like ‘dilatant’ from the English dictionary and incorporating them in my writings. Once there was this essay competition in the school. Father Mayer came to announce the results and he said that the winning essay was almost like a ‘mud cake with stars’. My classmates thought that he was talking about one of their essays and when he inquired about the writer, they tried claiming it as their own. It was then that he remarked that the person who has written the essay is completely oblivious of the fact that it was his essay that was being discussed. Suddenly, it dawned on me that it was my essay he was talking about and I stood up and he appreciated my work. In fact, Father Mayer and Father Strauss were some of the first people who appreciated my writings which gave me a lot of impetus. My friend and classmate Nihal too was instrumental in enhancing my English because he used to get me books written by Dostoevsky even when I was in medical college.’
Did his parents encourage his literary talent? ‘My father was an army officer. He never read my writings. In fact, my mother loved Hindi Literature, so I developed a liking for Hindi because of my mother.’
So, how did such a literary aficionado end up becoming a doctor? ‘I actually loved English Literature. I loved writing stories and reading books. But I am the only son to my parents and I have four sisters. So, it was expected that I would take up a job. So, I decided to pursue medicine.’
Dr. Shorey with his wife Sunita and son Aviral
Though his family is originally from Himachal Pradesh, Dr. Shorey resides in Jaipur and is a practicing ophthalmologist who specializes in retina. He completed his MBBS from SMS Medical College after which he became a resident at Lady Harding Medical College in New Delhi. It was there he met the love of his life, Sunita, who an anaesthetist from Pondicherry. The couple decided to get married and were soon blessed with a baby boy Aviral. However, their happiness did not last for long as Sunita was diagnosed with lung cancer which was in its last stage.
‘Lung cancer is a very tricky disease and often gets misdiagnosed. In fact, when we finally came to know it was lung cancer, within a week she got a stroke.’
Soon she passed away and life was never the same for Pavan and his son.
He says, ‘When this kind of a tragedy happens in your life, you have the time to reflect on what has happened and why it has happened. I experienced something called ‘vishadh’ at that time. It is similar to what has been described in Bhagvad Gita’s first chapter where Arjun first sets foot on the battlefield and feels depressed when he realizes that he has to fight his own kith and kin. I was merely 37 years old at the time. My parents moved in to take care of my son. Even though I threw myself into work, I couldn’t understand what has happened. The persistent questions were ‘why me? Or ‘What have I done to deserve this? When Nihal realized my state of mind, he called me to Jaipur for the weekend and that’s how I started coming back every weekend to meet him and my other friends.’
But the questions still remained and so did the quest for the answers. ‘I didn’t understand what had happened to me and was constantly questioning my life, my existence and the purpose of my living. When I was working in Guru Teg Bahadur Hospital in Delhi, I was in touch with another doctor was in touch who I knew had lost his wife. He advised me to meet his guru Mr. Ojaswi Sharma, a law professor who lived in Jaipur at that time.’
So, did he believe that a guru would help him to ease his plight? Was he actively searching for a guru? Dr. Shorey believes that you cannot find a guru by searching for him. He is simply revealed to you at the right time. But though he believed in God, he did not believe in this philosophy. Yet, on the behest of this doctor, he decided to meet this person and attend his sessions.’
Did the meetings help? ‘Although I found his sermons and sessions to be very different from the usual preachings of most gurus, I was still sceptical about accepting him as a guru. He being a realized soul noticed my reluctance and told me I was holding myself back. He told me to let go. Yet, I felt that I did not need a guru. But one day it so happened that my son Aviral, who was studying in Central School in Delhi at the time did not return in his bus at the usual time. I set out in my car and was madly searching for him. When I couldn’t find him and nothing was working, I prayed to Mr. Ojaswi Sharma. After a minute, I saw my son standing right in front of me. It could have been a coincidence but I took it as a sign that he was indeed the guru who would help me to find all the answers that I was looking for.’
To be continued….
Please join us on the 15th of January, 4 p.m. for an exclusive interaction with Dr. Pavan Shorey where he will be talking about his books, trekking, life and much more at Sudharma, Chameliwala Market, Opposite GPO, MI Road, Jaipur.
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on 14 January 2023
They are honest to the core, they are excellent at their job, their rise to the top is phenomenal; yet somewhere despite their integrity, commitment and loyalty to the system, these people are often lonely.
The very word IAS (Indian Administrative Service) brings to mind the image of corridors of power, a world where suited booted, distinguished people discuss the fate of India and the world in hushed whispers. At least that’s what the movies show. If you ask most parents what IAS is, they will tell you it is their dream job for their children. For them, IAS is about honour, respect, clout and power, having a lifelong career, not marred by lay-offs or recession or any such problems that plague the common man. I had once met an IAS coaching centre head who used to say, ‘IAS to Godrej ki chaabi haibacche. Ek baarhaath aa gaayi to saari duniya ke darwaze khul jaate hain’.
This is a man who has lived this for more than four decades.
Even after retirement, every day, he gets up in the morning, goes for a 4km long walk around the neighbourhood (earlier he used to frequent a little park close by but after COVID, he avoids it since the picket gate to the park is touched by many hands), comes back, reads newspapers, gets ready, eats breakfast, goes to Gita Mittal Career Development Centre (a unit of The Gita Mittal Foundation), where he works as a mentor for less privileged students for about four hours, comes back, has lunch followed by a small nap, wakes up with a cup of tea, goes for a walk, comes back, listens to music, sometimes goes out to meet friends or has his dinner and goes off to sleep. Without missing his power and clout even once. He is a retired chief secretary, who served without a blemish for three years. He lost his wife, his companion of fifty years, a couple of years ago.
Inderjit Khanna with his friend Amitabh Bachchan at the latter’s residence
When asked a question, he does not believe in answering immediately, he takes his time, writes down the points of his answer and then enumerates and explains his points one by one. While most of his age have adopted a lazy, laid-back lifestyle, developed potbellies and sometimes an apathy towards their very existence,Inderjit Khanna, an IAS and a retired chief secretary of Rajasthan believes in living a methodical, dedicated, purposeful yet frugal life which is rare quality in the modern-day IAS circles. When you meet Inderjit Khanna for the first time, this slightly built man appears to be a quiet and dull sort. However, as one starts talking to him, one discovers the passion that lies deep within this quietish man. He talks about his work as an IAS officer with the same passion as someone would talk about their first love. In fact, it is with this same passion that he has authored a book titled ‘Flashes before my eyes’ – The Civil Service and More’, which also boasts of a foreword by Amitabh Bachchan, his desk partner from Sherwood College, Nainital.
Amitabh Bachchan and Inderjit Khanna at Sherwood
Ask him about his association with Amitabh and his eyes light up. ‘I have known Amitabh since 1956, when he and I were in the same class in Sherwood. Despite scaling the heights of success, he has always remained affectionate and available for his friends.’ He narrates an incident in his book, “In late January 2009 Amitabh was on a visit to Jaipur. I learnt this from a newspaper report. I sent a mail to his secretary asking if I could meet him. She promptly replied with the date and time. I met him at the Rambagh Palace Hotel on 23rd January. He was keen to know about the extent of contributions, not of the individuals but the total, and the stage of construction of the (girl’s) dormitory (in Sherwood). Just as I was leaving, I asked if he would be able to visit our house. He readily agreed but requested that I may kindly come to the hotel the next morning around 6 a.m. and accompany him from there as otherwise his escort would not be able to guide him to our house. The next morning, he spent half an hour at our house with Yasmin, our granddaughter Annette and me. Annette was then three and half years old and was very excited to see him though at some stage she went off to sleep in Yasmin’s lap. A fact that Amitabh affectionately mentioned later in a mail to me.”
Inderjit Khanna with his wife Yasmin
In his blog on 25th January 2009, after visiting Inderjit Khanna’s house in Jaipur Amitabh wrote: “Titch, walks in promptly by 6:30 to pick me up. He wishes for me to visit his modest home on my way to the airport. Why modest, I react, home is home. We all live in modesty. People may perceive differently on that, but born and brought up in small town middle class, I am not an alien to that. My means may have improved, accepted, but the mind is still modest.I am more comfortable in such environs than perceived affluence. Titch’s’ little and bubbly granddaughter runs up to greet me. She is considerably more effusive than our earlier meeting when they had come over to Mumbai. But soon after the pleasantries are over, she falls off to sleep in her grandmother’slap. Titch and I talk of several other matters. Other colleagues, the state of the nation, ethics, morals, Government insights; he being Chief Secretary for years in Rajasthan.”
Inderjit Khanna’s affectionate association with Amitabh is yet reflected in another blog post by the thespian on May 31, 2021 wherein he writes: “AND today has been a morning filled with memories of the past, nostalgia and the exchange of so many incidents from the Class of 1958 at Sherwood ..if you remember we all got together in Sherwood in 2008 to celebrate 50 years of the Class of 1958 .. and such a wonderful time was spent at Nainital ..Tich , pet name in School, Inderjit Khanna, Ravi Palsokar and John Kurrien were able to come across for the informal launch of the book written by Tich .. who as you must all know was Inderjit, Chief Secretary , Rajasthan .. Ravi Palsokar attained highest ranks in the Army and John has pursued academic excellence by his thought and writing prowess, among the many others that he is associated with ..But a morning that was designed to be a few minutes went on for hours and it seemed it would never have wanted to end .. And the most remarkable aspect being that all of us are either 80 or about to be in a few months .. but we remembered each and every little detail of the years spent in Sherwood .. those days were the ‘Happiest Days of your Life’ .. I put that within quotes and in some prominence, because that was the name of the School Annual Play that we had participated in to some degree … Story: The sister School of the boys boarding School, is in some trouble and the girls have to shift from their premises to the brother School and .. and you can imagine the chaos and fun that was had performing that play .. many of us wishing it would come to pass in reality .. boys dressed as girls performing the sister school staff .. Aaahhh .. those were the days ..”
According to Titch, bonding with Amitabh is not only because of the time spent in school but also because of the very similar background of the two. Both Amitabh’s and Titch’s fathers were government employees and both the parents shifted to Delhi and things improved and hence frugality is a second nature to both.Inderjit Khanna’s father worked as an officiating clerk in the office of Accountant General , Punjab at Lahore with a salary of Rs. 35 per month in 1930s. When he got transferred to Delhi as an accountant, he preferred cycling to his office and in Delhi from his house in Daryaganj till the age of 75. While most people would race to build a house or get a government house in Delhi, Inderjit Khanna writes “ From Hissar, Daddy was transferred to Delhi in 1941….Daddy chose not to opt for government accommodation. From then on for the next fifty years we continued to live in the same first floor flat at 99, Daryaganj in Delhi. Daddy’s argument for not opting for government accommodation was that since after retirement he would have to move out of it, why not stay in rented accommodation from the very beginning. A related issue. Why did he not invest in property? Again, his reply was simple. “I have three properties. They are our three children (Ronojit, Arohi, Inderjit). He used to say that for him and Ruby, it was much more important to educate their three children well, rather than invest, whatever little income they had, in buying property.” Inderjit Khanna is an alumnus of St. Stephen’s college. In his book he mentions an interesting story about his mathematics teacher Ranjit Bhatia who was a passionate athlete and also represented India in athletics in Rome Olympics in 1960. He writes: “Sometime in class I must have asked a question to which Ranjit did not have an answer at that time. A few months later while he was at Jabalpur participating in an athletic meet, he was possibly still thinking and searching for an answer to that question and he found the answer.” Inderjit says that Ranjit sent a postcard to his colleague Satish Mathur, who was also a math teacher on 11 February 1962 so that the latter could share the answer with him. His life in the National Academy of Administration (NAA) was not all work and no play. He reminisces: “To give an idea of the recreation aspect of our life at Mussoorie was the occasional trip to Delhi on a long weekend and particularly the cost involved. Five of us would leave from the Academy gate on Friday around 5 p.m. in an ambassador taxi, reach Delhi around mid-night and return to Mussoorie in the same taxi around 5 a.m. on Monday morning to be in time for PT class which began at 6 a.m. The cost per person for the round trip was a princely sum of Rs 50 per person. Somewhat unbelievable today. The cost of petrol then was around Rs 1 per litre. Today fifty-five years later it is more than Rs 100 per litre and still rising virtually on a day-to-day basis. I also recall the first major hike in the cost of petrol in 1973 when it doubled from around Rs 1 and 50 paise only to Rs 3 per litre. I was then posted as Deputy Secretary in the Home department in Jaipur and Yasmin and I were living in a rented flat at 13, Chetak Marg. The shock of this rise in cost of petrol was so great, my salary then being around Rs 1000 per month, that we immediately formed a car pool of three officers.”
Another person who greatly influenced Inderjit Khanna’s way of looking at things was Mr. Kurup, who was the Collector, Kota District during his training days. For him, he says: “Some very important advice which Mr. Kurup gave me while I was leaving for Raisinghnagar, I have not forgotten till today. It was two-fold. He said that whenever I reached my new place of posting, in my over enthusiasm I should never rush in to make changes. Rather, I should first understand the job requirements carefully for at least three months and only, thereafter, think of introducing change. Secondly, I should always refrain from criticizing my predecessor. Golden words of advice which I remember even today, fifty-five years later.”
Inderjit Khanna and Amitabh Bachchan in a play in Sherwood
The tussle between Propah and Corp de Spirite
Scaling the heights and reaching the peak of their fabled mountain is perhaps the dream of many. However, the climbers who do make it at the top are often left alone.
Think IAS or IFS and people get the impression of a high flying, jet setting lifestyle. Most believe that foreign trips on government expense are a norm for such positions. Perhaps, to an extent yes. But there is more to it that meets the eye. Even IAS officers have to struggle to be with their family amidst their gruelling schedules and trainings. Inderjit Khanna too was determined to not leave his family behind as he went on training to England in 1980s. He writes:
“The concept of encashing privilege leave (PL) came in the mid-seventies. One has to take PL of thirty days to be able to encash another thirty days of PL. We were then quite often in need of money. In April 1979 I took a month’s PL but remained in Jaipur working throughout. Soon, government found that absence of thirty days was sometimes too much and so it was changed to taking fifteen days of PL to entitle you to encash thirty days leave. My personal circumstances brought about another change in this policy. I was to go to England in early January 1981 for a three month’s training programme under the Colombo Plan. We decided that Yasmin and Shonali would accompany me, but the cost of travel for the two of them was to be borne by me. So, in December 1980 I took fifteen days PL and encashed thirty days PL. During the leave period I was in Jaipur and working on most days. On 15th December 1980 the CS, FS and I were briefing the CM regarding the forthcoming discussions in the Planning Commission with regard to the Sixth Plan 1980-85 and the Annual Plan for 1980-81. At the end of the discussions, the CM asked all three of us to accompany him to Delhi for the discussions. The CS told him that the FS and he would accompany the CM but since I was on PL, I would not be able to accompany them. CM inquired that if I was on PL how was I attending meetings in Jaipur. CS then explained that the fifteen days PL had been taken so as to enable me to surrender thirty days PL, get the extra salary for those thirty days to enable me to pay for my wife and daughter’s travel to England where I was to go for training in early January 1981. The CM turned to FS and told him that we should change the rules and not insist on the taking of PL as a pre-condition to encash leave. Of course, I could not get the immediate benefit for this as I was already on leave, but I did attend the meeting on 19th with a special sanction of the government to enable me to draw my Travelling Allowance (TA) and Daily Allowance (DA) for that journey!”
He has written a lot about how his wife Yasmin was a very understanding and a non-demanding spouse who did not ask for much. She understood his rigorous schedules and did not complain when he could not spend time with her and their daughter. The question is what did he do to ensure that he could create some sort of a work-life balance and spend time with his family. To this he writes:
“On a personal front I also decided and took two holidays in a year. A short one comprising seven to ten days which was on casual leave and a longer one of around one month which was on privilege leave. These provided me with some respite from the extreme pressure of work and enabled me to unwind. Also, to be able to spend more time with Yasmin.”
Somehow it is commonly assumed that there will never be a dearth of vegetables in a green-grocer’s home or a doctor’s family will always have readily available medicines. In case of IAS, people often believe that their family will never have issues with administrative issues like voter’s cards or even government loans. However, in his book Inderjit Khanna points out how despite being a part of the system for more than three decades, he still could not change certain mistakes and even lost his faith in the system. He says:
“Why do I have this lack of faith in the system even though I have myself worked in government for over thirty-six years? Let me give you some personal examples. …… My mother-in-law, Mrs. Victoria David was staying with us in Chanakyapuri, Delhi. She passed away on 1st January 1997. I duly informed the ERO of this and asked that her name be deleted from the electoral roll. Elections came in mid-1997. Yasmin and I went to vote. To our horror we found that Yasmin’s name had been struck of the electoral roll while her mother’s name was still on the electoral roll though her mother was no more alive and I had dutifully informed the ERO (Electoral Registration Officer) of this. Our request, that Yasmin had voted just a years ago in 1996 and it was her mother who had passed away and whose name should have been deleted, fell on deaf ears. This incident nullified the citizen’s (in this case Yasmin) right to vote. My complaint to CEC did not result in any action except for an odd apology.
The thought-provoking point here is though he could get his wife’s name included in the electoral roll again, as a State Election Commissioner of Rajasthan, he was asked to include the name of two leading politicians in the voter list at a place where they were not ordinarily the residents. He says:
“I received the complaint in this regard against two leading politicians in August 2005. The complaints were sent to the respective Collectors, who were also the District Election Officers (DEOs), for inquiry and report. The Collector of one of these districts directly sought a clarification from the Advocate General of the state. This was a totally unheard-of step since the Advocate General should only have given his opinion on a matter referred to him by the relevant department of the state government, and that too, through the law department. Surprisingly, the Advocate General entertained the request of the collector and sent his opinion to him. With the opinion of the Advocate General the matter came to me for decision.”
Inderjit Khanna says that he respectfully disagreed with the opinion of the Advocate General and concluded that as per Rajasthan Municipality Act, a minister was not entitled to be a voter in a municipality outside Jaipur as he/she did not ordinarily reside in that municipality during the time that he/she occupied the office of a minister. Hence, he asked the electoral roll to be corrected accordingly. However, he says that instead of challenging his order in the High Court, the government promptly promulgated an Ordinance in December 2005 to amend the Rajasthan Municipalities Act.
The interesting bit is that even with mundane procedures like home loans or car loans, a government servant cannot leave anything to chance otherwise he may be penalized in the future. Inderjit Khanna believes that its better to be safe than sorry. He writes:
“Normally, repayment instalments are deducted from the salary and it is for the government to maintain the relevant record up to date. When I was FS in 1992-93 my Personal Secretary who was probably wiser than me in these matters, asked me whether I had taken NOCs after having fully repaid such loans. I had not. So, at his suggestion I applied for and got the NOCs. His point was that in the absence of NOC, when my pension papers would be prepared many years later, they may find repayment of some instalment to be missing int their record and then I would have to prove that I had actually paid that instalment. This, I observed, did happen in quite a few cases of very senior officers who had been on deputation to GoI or even gone abroad on posting. The unfortunate moral of the story is not to trust the government in the maintenance of one’s records but to maintain the record yourself.”
Many a times, it is difficult to understand when a position of privilege has been used or misused by an officer. Mr. Khanna also faced the same dilemma. He says:
“In IIM, Ahmedabad, once, after a three-day visit to Jhabua district, while driving back to Ahmedabad, we decided to take up an evaluation of the officers we had met and interacted with during the three-day visit. For the current purpose, I will discuss our evaluation of the Collector and DM of the district. …… Coming straight to the evaluation of his performance, which was done by each one of us and disclosed individually, I had rated him as a very good officer but not in the outstanding category…. Ravi felt that I had downgraded by assessment of this officer because during the one-hour interaction with him I had seen the Collector’s wife and children return home, presumably from a visit to a friend or the bazaar in a government vehicle. He said that I saw it as a misuse of the government vehicle and I said yes.”
Inderjit Khanna was perhaps one of the few IAS officers who was deputed as the visiting professor at the Indian Institute of Management, Ahmedabad. He stayed on for two years and taught compulsory paper “Indian Social and Political Environment” (ISPE) in the first year and optional paper on “Management of Social Development Programmes” (MSDP) in the second year at the two year Post Graduate Programme (PGP) along with many short-term Management Development Programmes (PGPs) ranging from one week to four months.
Of his IIM experience he writes, “Quite often, some PGP students would come to me to discuss the possibility of a career in the IAS. Generally, they were put off when they learnt of the salaries given in the IAS. I remember one student telling me that he had four or five sisters to marry and that was one of the reasons why he was seriously considering IAS as an option. I told him that since money was a prime consideration for him, the option of a job in the corporate sector was a better one for him.
As can be seen from the various incidents narrated in his book, Inderjit as a person and professional has also made it a point to be clear about propriety in government service. His strict principles of car usage are probably outlandish in today’s bureaucratic environment. When he applied these strict rules in evaluating the IAS officer’s performance as in the case of Banswara collector, it did not sit well with the IAS community and he lost many friends.
No wonder after the death of his wife and the marriage of his daughter, he is alone and trying to immerse himself in work. Nevertheless, the loneliness is there and one wonders why hardworking, honest, competent person are often lonely at the end of the day.
On a lighter note, just because it talks about the reality of civil service and life, it does not mean that this book does not have a generous sprinkling of humour.
On 15th September 2000, Shonali, his daughter took the delivery of her Maruti 800 car at Gurgaon. Tich was in Delhi on 13th and 14th for events relating to the visit of Bill Gates.
He says, “Shonali and I decided to drive the new Maruti back to Jaipur. I drove it and so the official car in which I had come from Jaipur on 13th was being driven ahead of us by the driver. Whenever we would pass any toll or other barrier a salute would be given to the Ambassador car, which was not carrying the CS. Shonali had a hearty laugh that the individual Inderjit Khanna was not of any consequence. Maybe that is the truth of the matter!”
In another incident, he was conferred with the powers of Magistrate 1st Class. To which he says:
“I enjoyed judicial work. Simultaneously, I was also hearing revenue cases under the Revenue and the Tenancy Acts. A hilarious incident needs to be mentioned. One day while recording an order sheet on a case file I wrote “ Bhains (meaning buffalo[AS1] ) suni gayee”. My reader came running to me with the file and sheepishly said “Sir, behes (meaning argument) suni gayee”. Such was my Hindi at the time.”
Though he misses his wife, his constant companion of fifty years, Inderjit Khanna is a contented man. He still feels satisfied with the roll he has played-impartial, frugal and efficient. He is proud of the fact that Rajasthan gave him a chance to serve without too much interference from politicians.
This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in two parts Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on 29 and 30 October 2022
Not all well-known women reject love out of a tragic past, some do it out of disillusionment. When Ismat Chughtai, the celebrated Urdu feminist author met the well-known actress Suraiya who was a darling of the masses of her time, she wrote the following words about Suraiya’s disenchantment with love. Suraiya simply did not believe in love because she had been mouthing those ‘love’ dialogues from her very childhood.
Actress Suraiya
Ismat Chugtai wrote “I first saw Suraiya at the gulposhi (adorning with flowers) ceremony of Mumtaz Ali’s eldest daughter. She sat demurely behind a bunch of girls and must’ve been around thirteen to fourteen years old. Wearing ordinary clothes and sporting a stretched braid, there was enough worry in her rather large eyes, the appropriate se of which she hadn’t learnt as yet. Had she not appeared so petrified, I wouldn’t have noticed her much-all the more because her mother Malika appeared to be the toast of the party and when compared with her, Suraiya looked like a mouse.
Beloved of the universe
Suraiya in a movie
Shortly afterwards, Suraiya took a big leap and became a film star- one who sparkled so brightly that for a while even Nargis paled before her. She achieved heaps of fame and as someone said, she became the ‘mehooba-e-aalam’ (beloved of the universe). There was a time when her admirers could be found in every nook and corner, and no other heroine could ever attract such attention. She was still young when she was stuffed and padded and made to play the heroine opposite Saigal and Prithviraj. More than her acting skills, it was her magical voice that people found so endearing. Lata hadn’t become the phenomenon as yet, and it was Shamshad Begum’s voice that was heard the most. Suraiya and Noor Jehan were two actresses who sang their own songs, and soon they zoomed ahead of Uma Shashi and Kanan Bala in popularity. These two were also singing-stars and ruled the roost once, but over a period of time, the appeal of Kanan Bala’s voice was on the decline. Noor Jehan left for Pakistan after Partition and that effectively made Suraiya the only singing star in the country. There came a time when as many as five of her films would play in tandem at the theatres. She featured in all the posters one could see-she was omnipresent. It was almost dreadful.
Love (un)struck Around the time Suraiya was in her prime, when producers and directors met up, her name would inevitably crop up after a few rounds of drinks. Alcohol along with zikr-e-Suraiya – to hear all that, it seemed as if much like alcohol, her body, and voice were also meant to mislead people. There was tremendous sex appeal in her flexible voice- upon hearing it , instead of soaring to the heavens, one’s emotions were rather drawn towards the soil. Possessing the power to completely take over the senses, it carried daawat-e-gunaah – an invitation to the path of sin. When a bunch of men sit down to drink, their talks rips women to shreds. Yet, the manner in which Suraiya is cut to smidgens is beyond compare. She might not have heard it in person but she would’ve certainly seen its reflection in all those gaping stares. That’s why she could never surrender to love unconditionally. She could never love anyone passionately enough to renounce all she had- her home, her mother and her maternal grandmother. Made to hear as well as mouth romantic dialogues since an early age, love started to appear as something ridiculously to her. For her, whilst the asinine act is valid on the screen – provided it could help the film to succeed – it was pointless to accommodate it in actual life. And how could it be possible to not fall for Suraiya? Nearly all her directors were captivated by her. So, it’s not hard to imagine the kind of regard that she must have felt for them and also how ludicrous the entire concept of love must’ve come across to her. It was routine for her to dress up as a bride, get married and then it was time to take the make-up off. No wonder life starts appearing like a grotesque piece of farce. It gets difficult to segregate reality from fiction and it results in shaking up one’s ability to take decisions. No, Suraiya doesn’t intend to get married – she dreads the very thought of it.
Suraiya with Prithviraj Kapoor
Suitors galore
Although she didn’t name them, I could identify all her suitors, as they would often narrate their stories of heartbreak to me- I knew the silly lengths they could go to in their pursuit. “There was a gentleman who used to light candles at the shrine of Sai Baba,” she chuckled. I immediately knew whom was she talking about. “A hero would threaten to jump off the terrace.” The hero is alive and kicking and continues with his habit of leaping about, albeit in films. “Then there was this man who stationed himself outside my flat and after persisting for many days, eventually consumed poison. A fair bit of trouble later, the police took him away.
Suraiya
Money minting machine The tale of Suraiya is identical to that of any film star who is forced to turn into a money minting machine while still at a tender age. Stardom was instantly handed over to her on a platter and she didn’t have to slog it out to earn the success. Consequently, she never cared for the easy fame. Had she faced rejections and disappointments before making it big, perhaps she would’ve valued it more. Acclaim and prosperity were shoved down her throat and she forever longed to spew them out. Her prestige became the staircase to success for others, climbing which they amassed wealth amassed wealth and filled up their coffers. Piggybacking on her name and skills, people turned millionaires, while she, on the other hand didn’t give two hoots for the riches. Spending money requires time, and Suraiya barely had any time to even breathe. She was burdened with so many contracts that most of her days and nights were spent shooting. She would manage a quick nap somehow and then be back to the dreary film scenes, the same voices of “Lights on! Lights off!”, the unfamiliar heroes and besotted directors.
Quitting for good “I have absolutely no regrets about quitting films. The entire process just got to me,” Suraiya’s voice had turned bitter. “I was sick of shooting all the time. For years I hankered for adequate sleep. I couldn’t even eat properly because I have a tendency to put on weight very quickly. I could only dream of getting to watch films or not shooting. It’s a terrible thing to say but I would be ecstatic when someone in the film industry passed away and the shooting was stopped. I would fervently pray that may someone die every day and the entire industry get ruined and destroyed. Tauba-tauba! I don’t know what had come over me. Now I can catch up on all the sleep that I can, I go out to shop and have a great time. Though they are few in number, I have some very dear friends. I eat all that I want to and love spending time at my bungalow in Lonavala.” “Do you still sing?” “Occasionally.” Maybe Suraiya still hasn’t been able to disconnect songs from films. She could never embrace acting as a part of her soul like Meena Kumari, whose singular interest in life is acting-for the love of which she came back from the jaws of death. Had Suraiya wanted, she could’ve come back to films too but then there is seldom a cure for fright.” -(Neend Ki Maati, published in Naqsh [Karachi]– November-December, 1973 (Excerpts from “Yeh Un Dinon Ki Baat Hai” by Yasir Abbasi)
–To be continued
This article by Shailaza Singh was published in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on 20 April 2022
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