Tintin- rehashed anarchist!

Ive been a fan of the comics since I was a kid and my bro brought home the first Archie's and Phantoms. Tintin series by Herge was a special favorite though... we'd actually save up and try collect the entire series. It got ridiculous to the level where we'd actually gift them to each other on birthdays.. often thumbed through :) We even named our first dog Snowy!

So when so many years later i am handed the book The Adventures of Tintin: Breaking Free, i am left with mixed feelings. Ole intelligent and good hearted Tintin of the yore is suddenly rehashed into a constantly angry looking proletariat who mouthes cuss words like theres no tomorrow and is the first to table the notion of violent revolution! And Captain Haddock, the grumpy unmarried marine of Herges now has a wife and kid and is the leader of the labour population!

Well i guess it would suffice to say that it took me more than sometime to deal with this initial shock of the complete contradiction in the characters. All that was similar was limited to the looks. So my first reaction was indignation.. i was appalled to have some of my favorite comic characters completely dismembered in character. As i read on though i stopped trying to draw parallels, got past my indignation and began to see the themes the comic was trying to portray. It takes one across a full spectrum of the building of a proletariat revolution... it tries to encompass issues of gender, sexual orientation,labour and class. Trying to constantly push the idea of uniting against injustice and prejudice. By the end of it, i didnt really mind it so much but i must admit that i wasnt blown away to bits either.

As one of my favorite cartoonist Bill Watterson has again and again reiterated and shown, comics are a wonderful and extremely potent medium for ideas and information. This one tries to use it with that understanding yet somehow i find that its need to be radical comes across to me at many points as so forced that it takes away from the many very interesting and meaningful messages and situations it wishes to share. For me the only point i see in using Tintin and Captain as images here is for (a)shock value (b)to take otherwise bourgeois characters and turn them prol as a symbol of protest. I'd say point (a) is the emphasised one unfortunately. I would even hesitate to see Haddock as a bourgeois for while he was well off, in the series Tintin and he constantly side with the weaker sections of the populace (like when Haddock against everyones wishes decides to house the Roma gypsies in his land instead of letting them live in the government alloted space near a dump in Castafiore Emerald). Frankly i would have valued the book more if it had stuck to making its own characters than trying to attract readers through the glossy misleading characterisation of Tintin in this comic.

Final verdict though- worth a read for the effort and ideas it tries to portray- not so much for the sense of slight betrayal one feels at the complete pummeling of old Herges comic characters.

A night of music & some thoughts...

Ahmedabads doing a Heritage week of three days. A strange concept but nevertheless interesting. Its been hosted by the AMC in public spaces for free. It has included talks, performances and exhibitions I hear.I managed to attend only one performance but it was quite something. I was told that it was a sufi music night and while it didnt quite turn out to be that, it did turn out to be educative.

The first performance was by Parvati baul. Now shes someone i have seen before in Bangalore in a three hour performance at Alliance Francaise. About two years back maybe. It was quite something. Bauls are from West Bengal and are a syncretic religious sect alongwith being a music tradition. She had her ektara and a little drum strapped to her waist, a set of tinkling anklets on her feet. And combining them all with her absolutely marvellous voice she was magic. There were also another set of bauls with her who used some amazing instruments and sang beautifully- captivating all in those few hours. So having seen that this performance of Parvatis seemed a little contrived. She could hardly get into her skin when her performance of three songs ended.

Following her were the two bhais who gave me my first taste of gurubani. They had heavenly voices really and the instrument tar-shehanai was amazingly sweet. Its difficult to really grasp the entire meaning of their performance but i think thats whats special about music really.. you dont always have to understand it... you need to feel it. Moving within you alive and speaking with you in the language of the heart.

The last performance was of the langas who are performers of folk music from Rajasthan. They were really enthusiastic and vibrant after the rather sombre previous performance. Two little boys with colourful raajsthan turbans got up and danced to the lilting music.

Its such a pity that somehow the management of the entire event came across as extremely insensitive and crass. They kept asking the performers to wrap up and finish fast coz it was getting late. Extremely disrespectful. Also the Sarkhej Roza (which is a fantastic venue really) was not utilised well at all... badly lit with bright white clinical lights and the backdrop a cheap white plastic sheet with sponsor names. It took away from the beauty and sanctity of the Roza. They should've stuck to one long performance by one artist instead of trying to do three sets of artists. It just didn't build up into the that environment where one could sort of just let go and fall into the music. Yet for me the takeaway was the immense amount of respect for each of the artists and their honed crafts. It really seems to me that we're on the way to losing whats most beautiful about our culture. The soul and heart of it. That which transcends across borders and differences.

It hurt me to watch them try to bind themselves in the ugly arms of time. To watch the restless urban crowd which kept their cell phones still on and threw glances at watches. To see the host tap at her watch and speak with urgency just after bhai had finished a lovely piece and still seemed to reside in it. It seemed wrong to make them mere performers of the 'rare' and 'exotic'. Why o why do we have to commodify everything?!

Two documentaries...

My rather drab yesterday was transformed in the evening by two short documentaries that i decided to start seeing only by 11 in the night. There were unfortunate hitches where the DVDs kept getting stuck and i had to miss vital bits of both the docus yet the experience was thought provoking to say the least. I wanted them down here to remember in case I wish to recollect later. Also highly recommend them..they are both extremely engaging and fascinating movies! A short description for those who want to know more:

1. Manufactured Landscapes

Director Jennifer Baichwal followed Edward Burtynsky on a tour of China as he took large-scale photographs of industrial subjects. The film explores Burtynksy's still photography, contextualizing his photographs in the global cycles of energy, production, and waste, by cinematically inhabiting the subjects of his work with the aid of simple, short interviews, sparse narration by Burtynsky, and minimalist / industrial music. While the film clearly serves as a commentary on the impact of large scale industrialization, Burtynsky claims neither to criticize nor praise these developments, but to bring images to viewers in the hopes of opening their eyes to the realities of the contemporary world.

2. The Gleaners and I

The Gleaners and I (French: Les glaneurs et la glaneuse) is a French documentary by Agnès Varda that features the practice of gleaning. The film tracks a series of gleaners as they hunt for food, knicknacks, and personal connection. Varda travels French countryside and city to find and film not only field gleaners, but also urban gleaners and those connected to gleaners, including a wealthy restaurant owner whose ancestors were gleaners. The film spends time capturing the many aspects of gleaning and the many people who glean to survive. One such person is the teacher named Alain, an urban gleaner with a master's degree who teaches French to immigrants. Varda's other subjects include artists who incorporate recycled materials into their work, symbols she discovers during her filming (including a clock without hands and a heart-shaped potato), and the French law regarding gleaning. Varda also spends time with Louis Pons, who explains how junk is a "cluster of possibilities". This film has an unexpected brief interview with the psychoanalyst Jean Laplanche.

Source: Wikipedia

Haywire

Such a season gone haywire
that the snowdrops melt as they fall
and evaporate before they hit the floor
or falling flat and lone, singe in horror.
That the flowers of the spring
confused in the heat, opens and peeks
only to see the drab dead winter country.
The birds sit looking drawn thirsty
thin worn and without a song at heart.
The gaunt animals with hot breath,
hide in stealth under paltry bits of wily shade
that shifts and moves and degenerates
into the endless respiteless heat no less.
The human thinks not of toil or joy
but of weariness as the season
plays tricks on his mind
and dances across its spidery web
on the stark blue skies.
The river drained and gaunt
like an old man heaving gently
pushes yet forth
a trickle on the mighty bed of yore.
The poet sits just as dried and stiff
wizened and stung with stupor
waiting for the bygone when
things seemed a little less wrong.

Modhera and Patan- A visit to the Vavs (Stepwells)

1st November 2009

Its been forever since I headed out of the city to explore. So this weekend (which was longish) we decided that with the weather being much cooler than before we should get out of Ahd. My housemates and I figured a good place to head to would be Modhera’s famed Sun Temple. Numerous plans to visit it have been getting cancelled and we were determined to make it there this time. While looking through my very resourceful housemates useful guides on India we found that not far from it was the Rani Ki Vav in Patan. Both these are extremely ornate and large stepwells which have thankfully escaped serious harm through the ages and are known to be the pick of stepwells around the country.

Come Sunday morning we were well stocked with some sandwiches and vermicelli and headed out in the hired car for the day. Modhera is 25kms ahead of Mehsana which happens to be around 76kms from Ahd. One could do the journey by bus but considering we were also planning to make it to Patan having a vehicle with us seemed more logical. Gave us easy mobility and more control on our time which irregular bus service would not have allowed. We left at around 7.30 and reached there by 9:30ish. The roads were pretty decent all along.

Built in 1025-26 AD in the reign of the King Bhimdev, the Sun Temple really is a most awe-inspiring sight. Said to be one of the most beautiful examples of Solanki architecture, it is divided into three main structures. The Surya Kund (or the vav/ tank) in the front, Sabhamadalam (a space for people to gather) overlooking it and finally the temple complex with the sanctum. The three structures are wonderfully aligned and geometric precision in the basic structures and organisation of the built region is combined with brilliantly sculpted ornate and elaborate stonework on them. The humungous tank is dotted on the sides with shrines dedicated to various gods. Surrounding it all were fairly vast gardens decently managed by the Government.

We walked up and down the tank and in and out of the main temple region, in awe of the time and dedication it must take to build such monuments. It is impossible to describe it really and I’m really glad I can instead put up pictures to showcase its vastness and beauty.





Patan was 50 kms from Modhera and of course the Rani ki Vav another 15kms from there. One of our friends, who had joined us in this trip and is actually researching these vavs told us that this was the most elaborate of all the existing stepwells in India. Having seen the Sun Temple our expectations were pretty high i must say so when from a distance all we saw was a largish hole in the ground instead of the grand Sun temple kind of structure we initially felt a little let down. Really silly of us actually coz once we began descending into the deceptively small vav, it extended all around us and surrounded us with the most beautiful stone carving work i have seen in a long long time. Our researcher friend informed us that this was because the vav had been filled by silt (due to a flood in the region ages ago) and ensured that the carvings remained relatively well preserved. Delicate forms of men, women, beast, mythical creatures sensuously drew your attention with their fixed smiles and lithe forms from all walls and corners.

Built in the last quarter of the 11th century AD it is said to have been constructed by Udayamati queen of Bhimdev-I. Its central focus is the tank of course but it has several multi-storeyed pavilions (which apparently were used by passing travellers to rest) all done in the most ornate manner. The beautiful perfect alignment of the various pillars and plinths along with the same intensive detail to each sculpted figurine makes Rani ki vav really the Queen of vavs. From a central position at one of the pliths, one can see far beyond through numerous other structures, the figure of Vishnu reclining. It really was a magnificent monument. Again as words fail, some pictures :)

The crowd outside Mrs.Slivers Rowhouse

Did you see? Is she dead?
was there somebody else?
why this particular person?
did they take it or is it still inside?
what do they say?
was it a possible murder?
who found? who called?
did they arrive in time to find out?
was there evidence of foul play?
or was it a story of grievances all day?
what was the time?
are they sure of the date?
who said that do you know?
the family? the husband?
have they come? arrived?
poor children if there are any?
how old was she?
did anyone know her?
was she good?
did she come by often?
when was it the last?
did she say something?
did something slip?
who could possibly have done?
such a heinous crime!

And all this while Mrs. Sliver sat inside
awakening from a bad faint
which could have been the end
if the housekeeper hadn't come around
got a fright and created the hue and cry
called the police and
bent down from shock and died.

A view from above...

I think for the first time in my life i took a flight at dawn. Getting up at the ridiculous hour of 3am I might have grumbled a bit. More when I figured I had to go through the International Airport which takes double the time for doing everything. Where was I you ask? Well i was flying back from Mumbai to Ahmedabad after a nice long weekend of doing nothing.

Im not big on flying coz of all the carbon footprint bit which makes me feel immensely guilty each time i step into the giant airports of metros these days but sometimes convenience still steals a show from guilt. So i ended up there not feeling too happy and slightly disappointed about my weekend sort of flying past in top speed. At 530 we finally boarded and in another 20 mins we took off.

Now i have a really weird relationship with most cities Ive lived in. I am not too fond of the idea of these giants but I cant help love them in some paradoxical manner. Mumbai was one of the first cities I actually felt myself falling for. Its such a vivid absorbing great adventure of a city that you cant help getting pulled into its madness. So here i was watching that same city from above still twinkling back at me in the dark, in this strange hour, proving that it actually never really sleeps. And then just as suddenly the city vanishes. We're over the clouds. A layer of smoggy gray black slate obscuring the twinkles in absolute. Yet what is astounding to me is what lies above. The sky is a wondrous clear drinkable blue. And at the edge of what seems like a horizon to me is this thin orange light, washing over on the shore of this drab land like some gold wave. I look for the source and a little bulge gives it away even in the distance. Theres dawn sitting above the smog, peeping through..unable to reach the city!

The peeking morning light creates an ethereal environment. The clouds below are so dense that it seems like an uninhabited alien landscape stretching out in front of me. For a second I have to wonder if by mistake we've propelled ourselves off to some other planet. As the sun begins to rise further (majestic and bright in its full orange glory) it seems to be dawn on another land, far from the planet I am familiar with. It persists to push the slanting light through the gray... and then just as suddenly I think there must be dawn below..as the first runaways from the cage of the clouds penetrate through. Through the veil of the gray mass emerges the soft meander of the river below...then there in the distance a village..the ploughed fields. The land emerges gently and softly in all its contours.

Rather wondrous beginning to a new day...heres a very bad go at trying to capture the essence of things... :)