BEE ONE, LUMSEY

It’s a relaxing September Sunday morning at AIS Colony, Lumsey, Tadong (5^th Mile). There is a bit of chill accompanied by occasional drizzle. While I reluctantly agree to scribble the fantasies of my never say die hubby, old faithfuls Tommy & Baily and our friendly neighbor walk into the eco friendly and green sit out having two attractive yellow benches. Upon settling on a parapet, Tommy looks straight into the green valley downhill. RPG, on the contrary, is all set to flaunt his new haircut. What a pleasure it is to see a ‘young man’ of 65 years with semi jet black crowning glory. No doubt, it is not a match with the black colour of the office diary kept on the bench or for that matter, black Samsung held tightly by him or the black Bolero of one and only Y factor.

RPG, incidentally, on 9^th of September, 2012 made up his mind to see the brighter side of life by resorting to have a close look at the fast flowing Rani Khola, almost at dusk. Accompanied by Als, two of them had a leisurely walk down the road under construction for 20 to 25 minutes. It was a welcome wind of change. Apart from exploring a new area, it also meant breaking the monotony. There was no question of any strain. Six or seven layers of road were taken care of without much difficulty. Once a green area, signs of rapid  denudation were visible all over.

Very close to the destination, they saw a rivulet, mistaken initially to be the main Rani Khola. However, the sight of a large flat field rightly occupied by the teen agers playing football, changed the whole perception. ‘Shoot at sight’ followed instantaneously. Within a few minutes, it was a soothing walk to the meandering river. It was a mesmerizing sight to behold in all the directions. A bamboo bridge, precariously hung in the middle of river, perhaps, was the only link between two hamlets located on the either side. A piece of tiny drift brick was dutifully collected from the ‘beach’ to be carried as a memento. Though it was getting dark, the spirit of adventure was nowhere to wane.

During the retreat, the teen aged footballers were missing from the scene. Villagers in the nearby huts had, in the meanwhile, begun hectic preparations for their dinner. Subsequent to a gradual climb of 800 feet, a bunch of footballers were spotted. True to their generation habits, a few were fiddling with cell phones, others were glued to listening to music while the remainder spoke about the anticipated anxiety on the part of their parents (supposedly connected to their return). In no time, taking recourse to a short cut, they vanished into darkness.

Though Als kept walking up without any break, he would ask RPG every now and then, if latter needed any rest. While former had trekked along this stretch several times in the past during morning hours, including one round, this very day, for latter, it was a maiden opportunity. Though he avoided any halt or break for first 20 minutes, by the time it was 6.15 pm, he felt exhausted. For a moment, while wiping sweat off his face, it appeared as if he would not be in a position to proceed further. There was, however, a lot of spirit left in him. Sitting close to a miniature waterfall, for a moment, a foolish thought came which prompted him to believe as if the world was going to end. However, he was determined not to exhibit an element of abject surrender before his 54 years old friend.

Patience and silence together with slow and gradual breathing came as a welcome wind of change. Though it grew darker than before, the stamina supposedly lost could be regained in about 8 to 10 minutes. The climb to next 500 feet to the Mechanical Garage was  a measured one. Since nothing was visible on the adjacent pitch road, old faithful and handy mobile came to rescue. Passing slowly by the side of a few dimly-lit huts and on encountering the errant dogs here and there, the duo slowly made it to their abode, located further up 500 feet.

Sipping leisurely his late evening peg, RPG was not in a gloomy mood, per se. He was, however, caught in a syndrome of decision/indecision. All the isolated evenings, often resulting into contemplation in isolation, were at the back of his mind. Looking at Joseph, his Man Friday (who had recently discovered his love for a chick apart from drinks), he decided to break the story of the evening, back home. All listened patiently but they also expressed concern. While everyone advised to exercise due precaution in the allegedly hostile hilly hinterland of Sikkim, no one, surprisingly boosted his morale.

With due credence to the relaxing talk and counseling on the part of Usha, Dudul and Dimpy (both share the same birthday), RPG, somehow, felt deep within his heart that his spirit of adventure in the evening may have sounded alarming to his near and dear ones, it, nonetheless, gave him the indomitable bout of courage and confidence. Such a state of mind will see him through during the weeks that follow. Perhaps the moral that emanates is - hard work, positivism and optimism have to be inculcated, shared and adored. Age should not and must not be a hindering factor.

JNU Beckons

Lot many unusual things happen at the drop of hat in our revered country. Some are not place specific. Can one imagine flights taking off fifteen to twenty minutes ahead of schedule? Yes, it happens at Aizawal, Agartala , Guwahati and now Bagdogra. In good old days, it used to be the domain of the private carriers so that they could outshine each other and log in more hours of experience to qualify swiftly for international circuits. Slowly and gradually, the national carrier is also catching up the trend.

Having been a beneficiary or victim or sufferer of one such development at Bagdogra, I landed up half an hour ahead of schedule at the swanky T-3 terminal at New Delhi. It had a cascading impact on my evening engagements - ‘late’ arrival of taxi, guided by otherwise reliable if not punctual Dips, delayed LcM and unwarranted recasting of meetings.

To partially take care of the last named activity, I land up, willingly in the familiar surroundings of JNU, its 24x7 crowded dhaba, being one of the prominent and star attractions. I have an inherent intention to refresh, if not to chill out. Passing below room no. 144, Sutlej Hostel, Jhelum lawns, Ganga Dhaba, Kamals, Periyar Hostel, Central School, and recently added Tapti Hostel, all are not only good experiences but these also enable one to cheerfully walk down the memory lane. I miss no time in consuming a large glass of Lassi (Rs. 12/-) in the august company of giggling Dips. We play a prank with CB and CM in telling the latter on cell that I was ‘missing’ from the arrival area of T-3. Moments of fun at the cost of tension on the other end follow.

Before we finish, a desperate call from DT comes. She desires to know our location and whether we had a meal. While our response is in affirmative, she is made to smile in exclamation when informed of 50% to less than that rates of ironing of cloths as also eatables and other essentials as compared to Gangtok.

 

Next, I try to locate an isolated place close to 24x7, wherein I had spotted a Nilgai, one summer evening in the company of now late Ankoor. He dominates my thoughts while we have a close look at the newly constructed Chandrabhaga and other attractive hostels.

 

Everywhere it is clean and green experience. The famous and enchanting birds of JNU appear every now and then, though they look subdued at this hour. A walk of half an hour entitles us to have a snack of Samosa, Idly and Barra at the Central Library canteen (next to a 12 storey edifice). When the owner shows some hesitation, disclosure of I belonging to 1978 batch of MA, Sociology in the Centre for the Study of Social Systems works. The old man is too eager to interact, oblige and help. We have another privilege of absolutely quiet setting on the Aravali rocks, surrounded by green, arid and thick vegetation. While sipping piping hot coffee, I notice that the Qutub Minar is no longer visible but peacocks and several other flying and walking birds, much more in number, makeup for the loss. They provide a bountiful experience by the dazzling sunset.

One had visited this marvelous eco-friendly place last in September, 2011 with CB in toe. True to his unique nature, he showed more interest in eating rather than seeing the catalogue having entry of my first M.Phil. Dissertation and two books of mine- Surajkund: The Sikkim Story and Sikkim: Small and Beautiful, donated to the JNU Library in 2002 and 2006 respectively. One does remember Ankoor vividly while getting into the main reading room (now centrally air-conditioned).

He came reluctantly with two of us in one warm evening of April 2011, took measured steps inside, had a look around to ultimately sit down to scribble a few lines in perfect English. Despite our persuasion he could not concentrate on any book or magazine. Later, however, he had a frank chat with a student of SSS, struggling as a non- permitted third partner in one of the beautiful brick hostels of the campus. I touch the table, remember and relive that very day.

 

Sitting in an isolated corner of the Research Scholar section, I attempt a piece on Meghalaya. As Dips was not very comfortable in this serious zone, he is advised to move to the Journal floor to flick through the magazines and newspapers. Prior to writing, bouts of discussion, more on global issues, clubbing of pairs, innovative and attractive posters featuring the Leftists of Latin America, our own Safdar Hashmi, a clarion call for joining a ‘national’ march by AISA on 9/8/12, etc. appear before my eyes.

 

Nothing has changed in the last three decades or so, except the size and pattern of cloths worn by the fair sex (shorter than before), majority having bikes or vehicles and almost all the boys and girls having better appearance (no guarantee for high intellectual faculties). While the greenery and the water table are on upswing, the unusual presence of a SIS security man in every nook and corner gives a different pointer. It is certainly not encouraging. The show has to go on. It must, in the changing circumstances but the basic focus of intellectual attainment by ensuring and sustaining character should not be lost.

Magic of Broadway

Theatre as compared to cinema is not very popular or sought after in India. Naturally, I was drawn to the world of listening to music and occasionally watching the same, more by accident than by design. Listening to songs or being part of any instrumental concert during the childhood was only possible during ‘off ‘ hours through the vintage Bush radio (an exceptionally polished wooden beauty) kept on the top self in our common bed room. We did not have the privilege of a record player or a tape recorder.

From class VIIth to B.A., mostly we would watch a semi-classical musical concert at Durga Puja “Pandals”. Afterall, Ranchi being influenced by rich and vibrant Bengali culture will have full four days of festivities, duly facilitated by traffic free roads.

In addition, once in a blue moon, one would witness a play in Hindi or English at St. Xaviers’ College, my alma mater. O yes, I did act in one satire during the annual Vishwakarma Puja celebrations. All said & done, it was either a play or a musical concert which mattered and both were seen once or twice a year. Mother of all the acts was, nonetheless, the ten day long religious concert of Ramlila, with its myriad, memorable and irresistible characters. Post-dinner, same was warm, fun-filled and delightful.

It was fairly long break from the Durga Puja and Ramlila days when in October, 2012, I was exposed to the amazing charm and glamour of Broadway at the Winter Garden theatre, one of the 30 theatres of New York, the financial and cultural capital of USA, that never sleeps.

Thanks to Vicky, my nephew, I managed to get the coveted paid entry ($76) into a packed Broadway show subsequent to an awfully expensive Indian meal. It was perhaps, a true grand finale to a five day tight official visit to the most populous and famous city of USA. One had heard a lot about it but had never availed of an opportunity. Most noteworthy were- light, sound, acting, setting, melodramatic effects or the speed and proficiency at which the artists would perform. Perform & leave an indelible impact. And ultimately bind & mesmerize the audience.

Inspired by the musical super hit ABBA of yesteryears, Mama Mia (Director, Phyllida Lloyd) is one of the longest running shows on the Broadway. Among the fifty odd dedicated and professional cast, it was pleasing to find Monica Kapoor, an Indian in the ensemble/understudy category even though it was not possible to notice her presence instantly.

My reading of the Playbill and interactions revealed that there were 22 musical numbers in the play. Some of the superhits included: Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!, Honey, Honey, I have a dream, Mama Mia, and Money, Money, Money. The play, per se, was divided into 3 parts: Prologue (3 months prior to wedding), Act one (the day before the wedding) and Act two (the day of the wedding).

It was all about a remote Greek Island, wherein a wedding is about to take place in the Sheridan family. The opening scene itself featuring the prospective bride and her two friends is not only superb in terms of song, dance and light effects, it leaves a positive impression in terms of make up, choice of colour and period costumes. The backdrop was simple, yet marvelous. The swiftness with which it was changed every now and then spoke volumes of the Director and his team.

Enthusiasm on the part of bride ( Christy Altomare) sets the ball rolling from the very first scene. Though her hero looked tall and handsome, she outclassed him both in singing and acting. Judy Mclane, who played the character of the mother rather brilliantly, had a clear and inimitable voice. Her singing and acting both were splendid.

Audience behaviour, if in terms of watching & listening was praise worthy, it was simply outstanding when it came to singing with the cast towards the end and ultimately giving them a standing ovation. In the dying or closing moments, at least three-four times it appeared as if the show was reaching its pinnacle. But pleasantly it swung back to emerge again.

Long live the show! Long live the actress who played the bride or the lady with a true golden, melodious and loud voice, who was compelled to become a bride. It was providence if not an act in the genre of predestination.

The Victorian style lavish hall, having close to 2000 seats was packed to capacity. Rather, one was feeling suffocated and claustrophobic initially. I was witnessing something in a theatre, sandwiched between women of all sizes, mostly obese after a long time.

May the magic of Broadway linger on to perpetuate and preserve the spirit of theatre. It was a truly once in a life time experience.

Postscript-once the show ends, exit doors are flung open on the side of 7th Avenue. Rickshaw pullers, all lined up with hand bells ringing evokes the sweet memories of a bygone era.

Long Live London Olympics

“I haven’t   contributed anything. Credit goes to my Guru, Federation Officials and Chief Coach”. Thus spoke Super Sushil,  a simple and unassuming Haryanwi hailing from Najafgarh, Delhi upon winning a silver medal in 66 kg weight category of  men’s  freestyle wrestling.

He created history at 18.30 hrs (IST) on the last day of London Olympics by winning his second successive individual medal despite being a victim of unfortunate dehydration.

With his win, India wound up its campaign on a highly satisfying note. Rather, it was the best ever performance by an 81 member strong contingent. The tally of three medals (one silver & two bronze )at Beizing was convincingly  doubled to six (two silver & four bronze ).

It was a fitting and memorable tribute to emerging professionalism coupled with liberal and assured expenditure on training aids by a handful of public and private outfits.

It is time to assess, look back and introspect to move ahead with a positive bent of mind. Shall we begin with the biggest disappointment- below par performance by a much fancied Hockey team?  They lost six matches in a row without any worthwhile resistance. The characteristic   feature of the tale of sorrow was against Belgium, when no goal could be scored by a team whose predecessors had eight Olympic  Gold in their kitty starting from 1928 and ending with 1980 Moscow Olympics. In the process, the team had to be satisfied with 12^th position as compared to 8^th rank in the last World Cup Hockey at New Delhi in 2010.

The shooters too disappointed, in a way, the eager, expectant   and conscious   spectators  at home.  They didn’t fall exactly like pack of cards in the reverse rhythm of highly rated Tennis superstars. Many of them like Archers were right on top in some of the world events. One silver and one bronze by Vijay Kumar and Gagan Narang , however, keeps the hopes and expectations alive and kicking for posterity. It goes on to also prove that the fire ignited by the gold winning  superlative  performance of  Abhinav Bindra in 2008 Beizing Olympics hasn’t been extinguished.

Saina Nehwal played exceedingly well till she took part in her last bronze medal deciding match. Her Chinese opponent simply collapsed due to acute knee pain. Thus luck favoured decisively the little star from Hyderabad, improving her world ranking to four.

Only grit, sustained practice and stamina are not the deciding factors. You also improve your chances sometimes for a medal, owing to the kind of draw you face and widely believed luck factor. Perhaps due to this extra  force , Amit Kumar and Yogeshwar Dutt got rare chances to enter the repepage round.

 While the former wrestled valiantly to be defeated despite coming back in second round and  winning  the last round,  Dutt went on winning spree after crushing his opponents, one after another. In the words of Michael Fereira, the former World Billiards Champion, “Dutt having got a solid hold over his North Korean opponent twisted him like a Sphagetti”. No wonder, on being certain about his bronze medal, he gymnasted and somersaulted like a butterfly in true Mohammed Ali style. This was his third Olympics. He had to show his might and determination.

Mary Kom , five times world champion, despite winning bronze medal in a category she resisted to be promoted, was, however, devoid of luck, in a way. She reportedly could not give her best due to ‘period’ factor, which might have restricted her overall strength and confidence. Nonetheless, medal winning performance by two Indian women has not only bolstered further the prospects of other compatriots from the fair sex but the day is not far when they will simply outperform the men.

In retrospect, India has three more medals as compared to Beizing but does it go on to justify for a nation having many world champions or world level winners in several games or events at present? Don’t we need to further improve?

A “country” called Phelps [of USA] has won 22 medals individually so far in two Olympics as compared to same number  by a much bigger country called India that has also the same number of medals in its bag since 1900. Will it be comparable?

The public authority needs to check malpractices and spend more on motivation, training, tapping talents from states like Manipur, Jharkhand, Sikkim, Chhattisgarh etc, infrastructure within and fine tuning spotted talents outside the country.

The number of officials may also need drastic reduction apart from freeing sports associations from the clutches of public servants. In the ultimate analysis, the contestants will gain supreme confidence to face the large crowd and thereby register a medal ensuring win. For want of such an accelerated and augmented mental make- up, Karmakar  and Devendro missed bronze medals by a whisker and Punia and Gowda figured at top, registering 7^th and 8^th rank in their respective events.

There is, therefore, a bright hope for future. There should be no reason NOT to grab it.

Pleasure of rafting in Ganga (28/10/12)