India

All posts written about places in India and all posts related to India will be published under this category. It may include photo essays, musings and the like from the road during the author’s journey to explore incredible India.

Kochi Muziris Biennale

Kochi Auziris Biennale

Kochi Muziris Biennale

Art is often an outlet for human emotions. Everyone understands it differently, perceives it differently. A blotch and/or a splash on an otherwise empty canvas can come with price tags with astronomical numbers. It takes a imaginative man to understand the blotch and a richer man to make it his own.But there are certain forms of art that have no price tags attached. All it asks is that you take time to see beyond the canvas, connect the invisible dots and ponder at the bigger picture that sketches to life within you.

India’s first Biennale hosted by the sleepy town of Kochi opened amidst a cloud of controversy within the local art community concluded in mid March while remaining largely undiscovered.

Although snubbed by most of the papers in India and considered almost a failure by the ones that can spare it’s 2 inches of news, the Kochi Muziri Biennale has a few exhibits which makes one ponder. Here are a few of them.

# The Sovereign Forest
Farmer suicides make news almost every week in the papers.With the rising number of incidents the coverage has moved from the headlines to the bylines. Forgive me but for lack of a better word it has become a cliche. Journalism has conveyed the message to the people. We have received it, felt sorry and moved on to more interesting news. But Amar Kanwar in his work titled ‘The Sovereign Forest’ presents the story of the suicide again, differently. But he does not mention the hardships of the farmers, he does not present the agricultural policies of the government or lack thereof. All he has done is mount small trays on a blackened wall. In the trays he has displayed grains of rice of different variety On stands next to his exhibit he has two books. One of them has the taxonomic name of the grain and in the other book there are names of men. Some names were accompanied by a photo identity. Some accompanied by a date. The date of the suicide.
There are no facts, no reports yet the message is clear.

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# The Atrocities in Bangladesh

Leaves of blade glistening in the sun. A crowded street with an auto rickshaw greedily taking more space in the canvas.A almirah with a broken handle. Money lots of money laid out on a bed. A man walking along a narrow path while a mosque towers overhead. A mortuary with a cadaver covered with a checked sheet.
Each of these photographs captures a story stifling it within its frames. The silence within the frames speaks volumes on the atrocities committed to the citizens of Bangladesh by the peace keeping forces.

Kochi Biennale may have been a disaster with reference to political backing and funding but I would not write it off completely. It has got me thinking, thinking of farmers in Orrisa and people in Bangladesh.

 

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Ambur :Mutton Biriyani and Jimmy Choo

Ambur is a town along the highway between Bangalore and Chennai. Closer to Chennai. If you have not heard of Ambur then in all probability you would honk your way through the all trucks, bullock carts,hawkers, state buses and that solitary cop till the town limits. Once you see the ‘Thank you come again’ sign you will visibly relax and watch the needle on your odometer slowly rise.

But, if you have heard of Ambur then you  will be confused while driving past the single main street of the town; confused where to eat.Do you eat at 5 Star, 7 Star, the original star( which the banner claims to have opened in 1913) or the ‘Real Star ( which the banner claims opened in 1870)? Regardless of which Star you choose the Ambur Star biriyani is well worth the stop.

Ambur is known for its biriyani and it’s leather factories. The former is ready by around 10 in the morning and sells like hot cakes even before the normal lunch hour. The mutton and the rice  are cooked together in fat. The aroma and the flavour lingers on your senses long after your meal. The goodness of the fat prevails longer, residing on your waist.

The factories make leather of varying grades. Some of these are exported to the West and eventually find its way back to the country with a stamped name (sometimes Prada, sometimes Clarks) and a price tag with an astronomical number. Sometimes instead of going through all the hassles of shipping it out, making it someplace else, shipping it to the company and shipping it back to the country, the ever thoughtful workers of the factory take it upon themselves to supply you with the finished goods. They are so kind as to even do the ‘Made in Italy’ stamping for you. So the next time you hold something along the likes of Prada,Mulberry or Jimmy Choo in your hand just remember a nice road trip from Bangalore or Chennai could get you the same. The best part is that the entire cost of your trip would be cheaper than the price tag.
Ask me; I have a Jimmy Choo that had not seen anything outside of a leather factory in Ambur!

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Gwalior

The Gwalior fort , sprawling fortress in Madhya Pradesh is song in brown and blue.

 

 

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A lone voice speaking for the dead

” They have given Rs. 50,000 for a garden. But the gardens will not help this place. What will a garden do? Encourage couples; families may come to picnic. These tombs have been around for 200 years. If they need to survive for another 200 the government must do something”, Rehmatullah finishes the self-initiated lecture.

“Do a lot of people come here?”Arvind asks while at the same time casually photographing the lattice work on the walls.

“Yes everyday they come. They come from all countries. They write their name and country in the guest book.I take it to the government official and tell them, see how many people come here. We need more money for maintenance and repair.IAS officer, Rajat Kumar came forward to help this place but in 2 weeks he was transferred!”

I walk away from them. Not out of disinterest. But hindi is not a language I can follow clearly and especially not when spoken fast.

As I stop at a distance to peep through the cement screens into the tombs that form part of the Paigah complex, I still hear the passion of Rehmatullah. Even without the luxury of  a satisfactory hindi vocabulary I know he is still talking about the conservation of the 200-year-old heritage site that comprises of the Paigah tombs.

The truth is that not many people know of the existence of these tombs. You might think that the AP tourism board would have taken care of that already! That is in all honesty far from the truth. A sign by the tourism board has  an arrow pointing in the direction of  Engine Bowli. Next to the arrow it is written Paigah Tombs 1 km, when  in fact you should take a U turn at that sign  and travel about 4 km in the opposite direction if you want to get anywhere close to the Paigah Tombs.

“Rehmatullah has been taking care of this place for 40 years”,the guard appointed by the Archaeological Survey of India to the tombs tells us.

“Before him, his father took care of the place.Everyday he is calling government people, meeting people with money to get some money for the restoration of the tombs.”

“Why don’t people know of this place?” I ask. “We asked a lot of people and no one seemed to know about the place”.

“It’s not that they don’t know. They don’t want you to come. Because if people start coming then government will have to make roads and the people will lose houses since they have built their houses on the roads.”

Arvind and I give each other knowing looks. That explained a lot of things, like having to ride through people’s backyards to get to the tombs, the presence of shelves, bathrooms and other house hold goods in and around some tomb structures and most importantly why people living next to the site did not seem to know the way to the tombs.

Sitting among the dead it seems that only Rehmatullah  really cares about what happens to the dead rotting 6 feet below delicately carved marble tombs.

If the government does not extend a hand to restore the falling structure the fate of this place after Rehmatullah’s time will be sealed forever.

In Rehmatullah’s words,”We may not be there tomorrow but these have to remain forever..thats our only hope.”

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A walk among the dead

[The Matador University has revamped its course content and I just could not pass up on an opportunity to do the MatU assignments again. Those of you in the know are aware that I have already graduated the course, the others should  check out the Matador University site.This photo essay  is part of the eleventh assignment. The objective of this essay is to tell a story/present information using photographs.]

The Paigah tombs is an old neglected heritage monument on the outskirts of Hyderabad. The work on the tombs and the walls are so intricate and detailed so much so that it makes you wonder how glorified death truly is. The architecture draws from a lot of influences of that time and merges them so beautifully and nothing seems out-of-place or out of time.

Without much ado here is my photo essay: -

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Categories: Heritage, India, MatadorU Assignments | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

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