Desicritics Category: Media: Photography

Book Review: The Art of Black and White Photography

Rajen Nair — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 13:15:13 EDT

Torsten Andress Hoffman‘s book The Art of Black and White Photography is a well-documented book covering the whole gamut of black and white photography. The book is a sort of tutorial described in simple terms with a lot of pictorial details thrown in.

The author shares his vast experience in the field of photography — a treasure trove of information and revelation to any photographer doing black and white photography. Though the book is primarily meant for those photographers specializing in B & W, there are many useful tips for photographers in general. What is unique about the book is that besides touching on professional levels of photography there are many useful tips for the amateurs.

Apart from dwelling on B & W photography, the author also focuses on image composition and capture, and on the digital workflow. He clears the misconception that analog cameras are better suited to shoot B & W by disclosing that recent cameras in the market based on high-end technology offering 12 to 22 megapixels are good enough for excellent B & W photography. Though the latest cameras have features to shoot in B & W, the author recommends shooting images in color and then converting them to B & W in digital workflow by using the grayscale mode or the channel mix in Adobe Photoshop.

He explains the importance of shooting in RAW mode for bring out the grey tones in B & W images and the advantage of allowing you to saving as TIFF files instead of JPEG. In analog photography, a photographer has to use color filters to get dramatic B & W images. Now with digital SLR cameras backed by advanced software such as Adobe Photoshop CS3, one can manipulate the images to get equally good results. The author also touches on other topics such as how to overcome clichéd photos, capture moods, create unusual perspectives, pictorial tension between elements, the play of forms, B & W from color and new features of Photoshop CS3.

The book is also useful in the sense that it caters to different applications of photography such as architecture, street photography, portraiture, surreal photography with stunning B & W photography. The book illustrates the elements of photographic language differentiating creative photography from random shooting. In the last part the author highlights the role of post-processing techniques using Photoshop CS2 and CS3.

In the final analysis, it must be said the book is able to deliver what it set out to achieve, so I would recommend this book to any serious photographer as a must read book.

Photo Essay: Sunfeast World 10K Run

Tanay Behera — Tue, 20 May 2008 01:15:50 EDT

For a moment forget the regular kvetching that one hears in various sources of news and media regarding Bangalore's woeful infrastructure issues. Keeping aside all these daily resentments, everyone rushed to the Kanteerva Stadium on a bright Sunday morning.

But what for? To be a part of the Sunfeast World 10K run, this is an international annual event, and was organized in India for the first time. The Sunfeast World 10K was touted as the richest 10K runs with total prize money of 150,000 USD up for grabs.

The event comprised of six races: World 10K Elite Men, World 10K Elite Women, Senior Citizens run (4 KM), Wheelchair event (4 KM), Open 10K Run and Majja Run (5.7 KM). Since the event was slotted between 6AM and 10:30AM, the city police authorities had made punctilious plans for minimal diversion of traffic during the four-hour marathon which saw active participation of around 20,000 people.

When I reached the spot around 7:30AM, preparations were in full swing for the Senior Citizens run which saw an impressive crowd of 700 plus participants. Most of senior citizens were aged above 60 but the energy and the exuberance that they displayed, quashed the roar of helicopters circling the stadium. Harmony, an NGO organized the senior citizens run. Each of the participants was given a T-shirt by Harmony and once they were dressed, there was a wave of uniformity at the starting point, very similar to a sight when children assemble in schools for morning prayer before classes commence. The highlight of this race was the high energy level of the senior citizens making them feel as if they were still in their teens. Jokes were cracked, few laughs were shared and there was an infectious air of camaraderie among these people who came not only from Bangalore but also from different parts of India.

Oprah Winfrey once said running is the greatest metaphor for life, because you get out of it what you put into it. This was the kind of perseverance exhibited by a group of steel-willed people. Braving the heat and the dust, the handicapped persons maneuvered their wheel chairs, reflecting the true spirit of participation.

Suddenly the action shifted to inside the stadium because the World 10K Elite Men/Women had entered the final stage. In a closely contested run, Zersenay Tadese of Eritrea bagged the 1,50,000 US Dollar Sunfeast World 10K title by completing the marathon in 27:51 seconds just three seconds ahead of his rival Moses Kipsiro of Uganda. The women’s section witnessed the rarest of rare photo finishes in any 10k run, with both Grace Momanyi of Kenya and Elevan Abeylegesse of Turkey, declared joint winners. The complete results can be seen here.

There was cut throat competition in the Open 10K run which had large groups of amateur runners, trying their level best to live up to their own expectations. Few ran, few jogged and rest others just walked in the spirit of sport.

Everyone was indeed up and running. It was a place where the east met the west while running.

The most delightful aspect was to see each one run irrespective of caste, creed, color, religion, sex, age, language, region, etc.

There was one single motive to be a part of the excitement and ebullience.

The Majja Run as the name signifies (majja means fun) merriment was the epicenter of frolic and liveliness. Though the distance to be covered for this particular race was only 5.7 kms, what separated this one from the others were the variety and the diversity. There were runners turning up in varied costumes with powerful messages, banners and placards.

Few celebrities like Dino Morea, Rahul Bose, Charu Sharma and Vijay Amritraj had the crowd screeching as they made their appearance for the Majja Run. Everything here resembled a mini-carnival and fancy dress competition. Girls with different attention-getting dresses very much like the Indianized version of IPL cheerleaders attire.

Someone even put on special clothes to appear princely, like the mighty Tipu Sultan.

The one that surpassed every other costume in terms of ingenuity and colorations was the Ravana attire. Participants were pulled in towards this individual dressed as Ravana to take a few snaps in the midst of the race.

There were lots of groups and voluntary associations such as Parikrma, Harmony and others who all came under one umbrella 'Bangalore Cares'. This aggroup participated in the race for a number of causes such as children welfare, greener and pollution free Bangalore, togetherness, etc.

How can an event of such extensive magnitude and variety happen without the support from corporate and business sponsors and advertisers? Well of course there were some sponsors from a wide spectrum. DHL was the logistics partner and it participated in big numbers, with few of the team members having flown from Mumbai. To name a few, Nike was the running partner, Kingfisher, the airline partner, Radio Mirchi as the radio partner, Manipal Cure and Care, as the medical and health partner, etc who passionately supported the cause and diversity of the World 10K experience. Steve Young, General Manager, Nike Inc., Asia Pacific Region, had flown in from Portland, U.S., to participate in the Sunfeast World 10K run. CNBC-TV18 was media partner and it brought the event live to millions of Indians on that day, to the television sets from 7AM onwards, along with a potpourri of other coverages and programmes related to this the event.

All in all, it was a well organized event with got an equally receptive reactions from all those who participated for this run. This race put Bangalore in the map of conducting with dynamism and zings a global marathon. More so, it was a testimony to the fact that multiple goals can be achieved through sports and citizen’s active participation and above all how sports are a social leveler.

In this huge ocean of human beings, I could see some human faces which pulled my attention like a magnet pulls pieces of iron. There was this elderly woman selling ground nuts who was a bit perplexed to see a sea of people just running, a very new site from what sees in her day to day life.

This man was also confused to see this sudden wave of sneaker lovers on an otherwise traffic struck road.

But one of the most satisfying moment in this entire event running with my camera was to capture this bubbly toddler, who had come with her dad and brother (if you can see, the young brother is just hidden from the father) to be a part of this race. She was giving poses which to me meant, 'Daddy isn’t allowing me to run or crawl this year, well next year I would be there to tip toe with other people'. That's a smart and emotionally charged expression, so I and my fellow Bangaloreans would wait for you, sunshine girl, till we meet again.

The rest of the pictures are in this album.

Travel Report: Korba Street Festival - Heliopolis, Cairo

Kim — Wed, 14 May 2008 02:19:02 EDT

Last Friday was the annual Korba Street festival in Heliopolis - a residential suburb in Cairo.

Baghdad street was closed off to traffic and stalls were put up along the sidewalks. There were stalls from the Asean countries selling native food and some handicrafts.

The Indian stall just had posters urging visitors to visit India. Nothing else. :(

There were tables along the sides for families to relax and grab a bite and the main road was left free for kids to express their creativity on the road with chalk and paints.

Marriott's Bakery, Swiss Inn, Sultana Ice Cream had tables on the road and were serving food there. The Swiss Inn even had a buffet set up on the road. But the more exciting stuff to eat were the street stalls which were selling things like cotton candy,the hummus drink and beans.

I attended in the morning half and left by 1:30pm, before the crowds really started to pour in. This meant I missed out on the musical performances (by Wust el Balad among others) and the puppet show, but what I managed to catch was great anyway.

My friends tell me, there was a short parade later in the noon with flower covered floats and giant coke bottles. More of advertising than Spring flowers was a comment I heard.

What I got to see, kind of reminded me a bit of the Kala Ghoda festival in Bombay, but just a little bit. The concept is similar, but there is so much further that the Korba festival can go. Its a good start though, just to have an open air event in a residential area of Cairo.

I would definitely try to catch it again next year.

Photo Essay: Tramway Trek in Parambikulam

Tanay Behera — Thu, 1 May 2008 09:15:59 EDT

I had to cover close to 50 kms in two days, trekking thorough one of the best biodiversity hotspots in India. Can I do this or I can't, a cloud of incertitude eclipsed my mind. With this dubiety kicking in mind, I boarded the bus a late Friday night after the day’s work hoping that the weekend would end up with some exciting experiences.

The next day morning, I woke up as the bus stopped in search of the correct route when we reached Pollachi. While we were motoring along the road planked on both sides by trees, I could see big billboards of Jayalalitha and Karunanidhi which confirmed my curiosity that we were in Tamil Nadu.

But we were going for trek in the forests of Parambikulam which is in Kerala. The puzzle got resolved when I learnt that the only entrance to this wildlife sanctuary is through the Annamalai Wildlife sanctuary which is in Tamil Nadu. We paid all the necessary fees at the check post to get into the sanctuary and the sky appeared a bit cloudy that day.

Along with few others, I was going to start my trek which is commonly known by the name 'Tramway Trek'. There is a little bit of history to this which says...

The tramway was set up in 1905 under the visionary of Maharaja of Cochin Sri. Rama Varma to transport Cochin teak from Parambikulam to Chalakkudy. From there it could be exported to the rest of the world thorough the Cochin Harbour. The total stretch of this tramway is close to 49.5 miles running through the thick forest, crossing many rivers and the time taken to cover this distance was 9 hours. It was around 1953 that this tramway was stopped for a number of reasons.

All that remains today are the remnants in the form of rails, bridges, wagons, etc. A couple of years back as a befitting tribute to the centenary of the Cochin State Forest Tramway, an eco-friendly trekking plan was launched along the tumbled down tramway route. The foot trail along this rail trail will give an opportunity to see the remainders of bygone days of the transport system, besides seeing hundreds of birds and animals including tiger, elephant, sambhar, spotted deer, sloth bear, porcupine etc.

This is one of the best managed wildlife sanctuaries in India.

The bus took all the trekkers near the gate of the Parambikulam Dam, which was the starting point of our trek. From the bus, what we saw were a pleasure to eyes, peacocks dancing in the woods and spotted deer milling around.

The route offered some fresh sites that made me indulge in fantasy as if someone was using the river water bed as a mirror to teach the basics of reflection.

The trek started at around 10AM and by now the sun was shining bright and smart. The entire trek course was along the river and it was amazingly beautiful.

Since, the initial trek path is flat and regular, I was looking for some excitement and it was just the right time that our guide showed us a herd of elephants near the river bank. After drinking water and cleaning themselves, the elephants moved towards the trek route and this was an ultimate moment of excitement. These colossal creatures were just 60 meters away from the group. We were all lying on the forest’s leaves carpeted floor like soldiers in a war field and I positioned my camera lying down to get a perfect composition. People wearing white shirts and caps immediately put on something non-white because elephants react aggressively to white color. We were resting on the forest floor with pin drop silence, except for the sound of the birds chirping in the woods and the crackling sound that one gets when walking over a bed of dry leaves till the gang of elephants and calves (total number was around 15) passed by.

It was 11:30 AM by then. Our guide told us that, we could catch some more wild actions since this was the time when a bunch of tigers would plunge into the river for some coolness. Hope ran high, but we couldn’t trace them. But we spotted few crews of deer and sambhar, but these species being a sensitive lot, vanished when they encountered a foreign element in their territory.

The gang reached a small tribal colony in the midst of the forest at around 1:30 in the noon for a small break after having trekked for around 10kms. The entranceway to the tribal colony was a bridge across the Kuriakutty River. The bridge though not in operation, still stands intact and the rail line snakes through some thrilling landscape.

Lunch was served to us by the tribal people, which comprised of simple rice, sambar and cabbage fry dished out in dry leaf plates. The food provided the much needed energy and the journey started again. The dry forest was slowly given way to dense evergreen forests.

En route, we traced many birds such as grey hornbills, the great pied hornbills, etc. Also I found some snake's outer skin, hanging from the branch of a tree.

As I was trekking through this abode of greenery, a lot of emotions swam through my mind. And one needs to be in such a secluded place to feel vulnerable to the wild, exhilarated, beatified, commoved, expectant, anticipative, disappointed and happy at the same time. There was exquisite greenery all around with no presence of human beings and I was walking alone with music on my ears courtesy my iPod. It just appeared that the road ahead was never ending.

It was around 5 PM in that we reached the endpoint of day one trekking. The night stay was in an anti poaching camp at Muthuvarachal right next to the flowing river at an elevated altitude. Just imagine the excitement, when someone is there in the dense forest, with the only source of light as either the moon-light or the candle light. Insects creaking and mosquitos' bombinating to attack were the only sounds that one could hear. Even though this camp was at a raised tract, surrounded by trenches, there were still chances of tracing some wild animals in the pitch dark.

We had dinner, which was boiled rice and legumes again courtesy, our tribal friends. We woke early in the morning the next day at around 6 AM and set out for a walk. The jungle was fresh with the earthy smells of the morning. Strolling through the luxuriant vegetation, we saw some pugmarks of a leopard and marks left when the prey was dragged over the dampish soul.

We returned from our morning jaunt and had our breakfast at around 9AM. Then we started for our return journey which lacked verve and we planned to trek till lunch time. As I trekked I could see lots of 'manchans' (tree-top houses) but the most interesting finding was a bird studying center in the heart of the forest. This unit is built in the honor of late Dr. Salim Ali, a renowned ornithologist who had found more than 100 species of birds, traveling on the tram way route.

I saw a wide variety of insects, frogs and other creatures during my return journey. It was around 2PM that, we all had lunch in the same tribal colony, where we had food the previous day. Since we were drained out of energy, our guide asked us to take the Tempo traveler else it wouldn't have been possible for us to leave the forest by 6PM.

As the vehicle was traversing through the bends and the curves of Western Ghats, the scene of the Parambikulam dam was breathtaking from a higher altitude. The next break point was to see the largest and the oldest (as it is close to 450 years now) teak tree in the world, Kannimara Teak. Parambikulam was once home to some of South India’s finest stands of teak but most of these are now replaced by teak plantations, which cover around 9000 hectares of forest land.

We saw a couple of monkeys, lion-tailed macaques, Indian Gaurs too from the Tempo traveler. By now it was 6PM and the return journey to Bangalore started. We made a couple of stops on the way back for dinner and for having tea from road side stalls and before we could realize, we were back in the concrete jungle by 4:30 AM.

Since I was tired, I took some rest before the grumbling and groaning Monday work started, unwilling to let go of the endearing and striking Sunday. Monday, I had a business meeting in the Taj Hotel at Bangalore, and then when I was having lunch there in the neatly manicured gardens, it just reminded me, how life changes suddenly. Just 24 hours ago, I was in the woods having food in a tribal colony and now I am in a restaurant, with a great assortment of cuisines.

Well that's how life is. Take it as it comes.

The remaining pictures of the trek are here in this album.

Photo Essay: I Love Beauty Parades

Dr Bhaskar Dasgupta — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 02:24:07 EDT

Yes, Sir. I do love them. I was in sunny Bangalore when the whole hoo haa about the Miss World beauty pageant blew up in 1996. Well, I have to thank Ganesh, Imhotep, Confucius, Zeus and the great Pasta God aka Great Flying Spaghetti Monster with meat balls in the sky, that I stayed in the same hotel as those lovely ladies and my eyes were almost perpetually on stalks. So while it was young spotty hormone driven time way back then, now I have moved on (I think).

I know all the very well known arguments against female beauty parades. Here's a great article by Choodie Shivaram on this issue and I am taking the liberty to quote few lines from her article.

""demeaning to our culture," "devaluing to our tradition," "promoting vulgarity and obscenity," and "a disgrace to womanhood." ...... Communists deplored the event as capitalist exploitation of women and part of the multi-national corporations' carefully planned plundering of India. Women's groups found the event degrading to women.

Quite so, but at the same time, hey, I am an observer and while at the same time, I can slightly see the objections, I also am an appreciative lover of human beauty. Take this joke "photoshopped" picture for example on the left while the real David is on the right

I am sure Michelangelo would be rolling in his grave but that's not beautiful to me even though it is just a plump version of his David. And irrespective of which statue you like, you do know that one arm of that statue is broken and then repaired? You still like and admire that statue, no? A disabled statue, so to speak.

So then I read the news that now Cambodia will play host to Miss Landmine 2009. I quote:

Miss Landmine parades beautiful female landmine victim amputees on the catwalk as they compete to win prosthetic limbs....

See this line?

the pageant has drawn howls of protest from rights activists and feminists, who brand it colonialist, racist, sexist and exploitative.

Sounds familiar? But go back to the woman. Since I have started working in London (many decades now), I have known many colleagues who have lost their breasts after a mastectomy. And one thing was common on every piece of advice and gossip and reading and research and talking about it, that it is not the loss of the breast(s) or the surgery itself that hurts the most, it is the fear that they will no longer be attractive.

And spare me the gumpf about how sexist it is. Everybody likes to look good and feel appreciated, nothing wrong in that. While I am not so sure about the fact that the contestants have to compete to get prosthetic limbs (give it to them, that's what a public health service is all about), but generally, the idea of a disabled beauty pageant is not bad at all. And I am not even touching the topic of landmines at all (but promise to do so later on).

Still, here are women, who due to no fault of their own, no longer have all their limbs. Still for a wrong purpose, they are going to show off their beauty, something like this. Beautiful girls, the fact that they are in a wheelchair is incidental. They still look beautiful and attractive.

I am going to get slated for this, but hey, here goes nothing. Here are some photographs of women who I would find attractive.

Both have a lovely smiles, twinkling eyes and that shows a very attractive persona.

How about this debate about the disabled pregnant woman statue in London's Trafalgar Square?

The statue on the left is said to be the personification of Venus de Milo in the Louvre. So if you can admire the right hand side, can't you admire the left hand side? Once you have seen that, read the story about the real life woman behind the statue.

Now see this real life photograph of a disabled naked woman which resembles the two statues above. Attractive? Beautiful? Wonderful? Sexy? Adorable? Lovely? Cuddly? All these and more. Nothing wrong with it at all.

Would I wolf whistle at these beauty pageant contestants shown below? Yes, Sir, I sure would.

Below is a photograph of a lady who won one of these pageants. You go girl, and she is damn attractive. She is beautiful and wonderful, and the loss of a limb does not take anything away from her. Her eyes display a determination and a love of life seldom found these days.

And there is a swimsuit competition as well as. And yes, I am sexist in saying that I find these women attractive too. So yes, I do love these pageants. I find these women attractive, and yes, even if they are disabled (and no, I do not suffer from apotemnophilia), they are beautiful because beauty is not just the presence or absence of some limbs but is in the eye of the beholder.

Photo Essay: Pinner Parish Church

Dr Bhaskar Dasgupta — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 00:41:52 EDT

It was the day my little munchkin dressed up like a princess to go to her boyfriend's birthday party. It was at Pinner Parish Church. I have passed this Church many times. It lies at the end of a winding narrow road which has beautiful period homes on both sides. But given the fact that it is on a corner, I could never stop and properly admire this lovely little church, but now that I had an hour and half to kill, I dug out my little Sony Ericsson camera and off I went. I couldnt go inside but stayed outside. See here for a bit of a background of the outside from the official site.

The building on the far side is the Church Hall which is used for school purposes and other community reasons, such as birthday parties. A lovely little path, very quiet and peaceful leads up to it. Even though it has been recently constructed, it blends well into this 12th century church.

This is the view of the churchyard on the north side.

This is a Calvary garden. The memorial plate on the wall gives some more details about the person who funded this garden. This word, Calvary, threw me a bit. Never heard of it before and after researching it, am still not very clear that I understood why this is called as a Calvary garden. It is because of the memorial plaque? Or because it was built by devotees? or what? Not sure.

On the left hand side, you can see a long narrow sign, just underneath the tree. It is a memorial to somebody who died 2 centuries ago and the reason why it is interesting is that Wm Skenelsb, the person whose name is on the memorial plaque, was more than 100 years old when he died.

But this is also quite interesting, most of the gravestones in the churchyard are for people who have lived on for amazingly long periods of time, 60, 70 years of age. And considering the time period involved where the life expectancy was hardly 25-30 years, this is amazing. Something in the water perhaps?

The north side of the bell tower, the tops are lost in a misty low cloud, it was quite snowy that day. But you can see where the repairs and restoration have taken place. See here for details of the construction.

This grave was interesting. There was no legible inscription left, but the base was all jutting out of the ground and it is obviously extremely old. The earth has settled down around the grave and bits are exposed. And to top it all, somebody has stuck a sign, Please Keep off the Grass. A bit late to say that to the old chap now, no? And that white bits on the bottom of the sign is snow. It was a very cold and crisp afternoon.

See the building in the background, this is the kind of architecture you would find around the village, just shows that the history of this village goes back to 900AD and beyond.

The west tower. The large window was beautiful, even from outside and so were the top smaller window but the clock was a disappointment. For such a lovely church tower and church yard, that manky looking clock with that faded blue paint does not fit at all. And then to put it in that frame was criminal. The only way they could have ruined it more would have been if they had put in a flashing neon digital clock.

Then you keep on walking around to the south side, lots of very old graves line the path. The foremost grave had an interesting shape, a tapered cone shaped grave. But if you walk down that list of gravestones, you find some very graves and of people who lived on for a long period of time.

This is a grave of a gentleman (and some more people) who lived on till he was 72 years of age! it was encased in a spiky iron cage which looked like it was put up some time after the grave was up up. Curiously, many graves showed signs of multiple occupancy. So if you had a wife buried there, you will also have the husband who would be buried there afterwards. I suppose it is because of saving costs and land.

This was a very curious monument. Read the background here. And yes, that is indeed a coffin in the middle of that A shaped monument which contains two bodies.

The main entrance. The statue in the alcove just above the main doors is of St. John the Baptist. But look on the roof, the windows are beautiful. I would never have expected to see windows like that on a church, house yes, church no. I wondered what purpose they would serve? And then looking at a picture here, it became clear. Usually churches are dim and dingy because of the long narrow windows. But this church is light, airy, bright, wonderful, really can get close to God in this place. The door was also very intricately carved.

The next two photographs are of the lych gate. Very curious structure, only found in Britain. This is the gate where the corpse is first rested and the burial starts from this point onwards. In this particular case, it is a very well constructed gate. Inside, there are two notice boards with various church and community notices stuck up on it.

A close up of the arch, which states, "1914 - In the honour of those who served in the Great War - 1918" notice the intricate carving.

A centenarian, quiet if dignified gravestone tucked away in the corner.

The garden was very well maintained, if a bit cold and snowy.

As before, here is the full slideshow link with some more photographs of this lovely little parish church. Perhaps one day, I will be able to go inside and take some more photographs.

Movie Review: Jodhaa Akbar - Mystery Solved: Why There Was No Birbal?

Aditi Nadkarni — Wed, 2 Apr 2008 10:49:52 EDT

Those who have read my movie reviews know of my unexplained aversion to commercial Hindi films....at least the plot-less, song sprinkled, melodramatic embarrassments that we have to watch dazzling at us from their lofty places on box office charts.

I now have developed significant and upsetting reactions to the Punjabi family of Bollywood, to the melodramatic unmarried uncle (Alok Nath), manic Papa (Anupam Kher), plump and cloying mummy-jis (Reema Lagoo, Farida Jalal), overtly shy, mature bahus (god, there are so many of them) and the immature and tomboyish damsels who continue to roller-skate in the house, eat unexplainable amounts of candy and pull kiddish pranks way into their twenties (usually the leading lady).

More about these characters "here" , but whatever. Since this is Bollywood's treatment of family dramas, I am all the more skeptical about how they would execute the period romances that require intricate detail. But this review is about the one film that I watched in the theater armed with my narrowest and most disapproving gaze and emerged not half as disappointed as I had expected to be.

If it hasn't been said enough, the visuals of Gowariker's Jodha-Akbar were breathtakingly beautiful. Aishwarya's couture stood out and so did Hrithik's brawn.

The actors did what they have always done. Aishwarya looked pretty and wept when she wasn't engaging in occasional bouts of hip-jutting sword duals. Hrithik flexed his biceps and fought wild elephants with his bare hands. Apart from a few notable performances such as Ila Arun as Maham Anga, this film was a director's feat and not really carried by any of the actors' performances. The director's sensitivity can be detected in scenes where the new bride cooks a feast for her husband, where a mother advises her daughter to pick death over humiliation, where a princess first earns her husband-to-be's respect by making known that her faith and beliefs warrant a non-negotiable place in her life and where a great king stands up for his wife and becomes a husband.

With Lagaan, director Ashutosh Gowarikar established that he could tell us a fascinating story, with Swades he demonstrated his prowess at weaving art into the escapist fabric of commercialism and now with Jodha Akbar he proves that he has the finesse to convey the delicacies of a love story.

The redundancy during every intimate scene in all the songs bare his weakest points and that somehow to me makes him seem like a better director than those who are brilliant at the choreography and love scenes but fail at the story-telling.

What is interesting to note is Gowariker's clever use of rich, warm colors that add to the cultural identity of each scene. He used this apparatus in Lagaan for the song "Radha Kaise Na Jale", did it again with Swades and Jodha Akbar is teeming with such cinematographic delights which underscore the cultural richness that a period romance would've been incomplete without. Gowarikar also uses a dash of unexpected humor especially in the Jodha-Akbar sword dual.

The art and creative direction is what truly gives this film its grandeur. The colors surround you and make the film worth watching in a theater rather than on a television screen. The orange and red hues with the dusky backdrop of the desert, the cackling fire set amidst colorful tents, the majestic pink forts and the glorious white robes light up the screen. A.R.Rahman as always delivers and while all his songs are catchy, the "Khwadja Mere Khwadja" number is sublime.

For those who criticized the film for its conspicuous lack of political detail and a sorely missing Birbal, I would just like to point out that the film is called "Jodha Akbar" and not "Akbar the Great" or "Akbar Birbal" or "Akbar and the Navratnas". Any focus on the navratnas or the presence of a witty Birbal would've, I strongly believe, pulled attention from the romance itself. Sure, Jodha's role could've been meatier, Ms.Rai could've sobbed less and Hrithik could've delivered his dialogs in a more believable tone without looking like he was going to sneeze each time.

My only major grouse was with the length of this film. This romance was about the cultural disparities between a couple that had an inter-religious marriage in a time when religious differences were probably more pronounced than they are in the present world.

The film showcased a husband-wife relationship and managed to include snippets of loyalty, trust, identity and respect that form the basis of a successful marriage.

It could've covered all those areas and been wrapped up in lesser time if we wouldn't have to watch Aishwarya riding a horse for ten long minutes only to then fall on Sujamal's chest and do what she does best...weep. We could always do without the classic "running to Krishna idol" scene whenever someone's life is in jeopardy and the listless stream of foreplay poses packed into a never-ending song. If Mr.Gowariker is reading, I would want him to know that with Lagan he changed the acceptable format of commercial cinema and no longer requires to stick to it.

But I am starting to make peace with these lost hours of my life that Bollywood devours and that I will never get back. I tell myself that directors have considerately made these lengthy inclusions just so I can have a samosa and still have time for a leisurely bathroom break.

...and that my friends is probably where Birbal went.

The Dabba Roster

IdeaSmith — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 16:35:19 EST

I remain a Mumbai train loyalist. Not only is the Mumbai Metropolitan Railway, the fastest way to get from Point A to Point B in Mumbai, it also gives you a slice of what I think of as 'the real Mumbai life'. Frantic students cramming in seat-huddles tell you that the board examinations are around the corner. A bling-ey group chatters away about the wedding they're off to in the matrimony season. Office-goers - peons, sales executives, doctors, journalists run shoulders (okay, bodies) in the nau-dabbon-ki-jalad-lowkulll.

And speaking of dabbas, how about the other dabbas? The ones carrying piping hot nourishment, lovingly made by mothers and wives and cooks across the city and delivered Just In Time for lunch to their hungry patrons? To the uninitiated, the dabbawallas are a network of deliverymen who carry lunchboxes from homes to offices and back using a never-fail above-world-class system of colour coding. An Ivy League US b-school used them as a case study and the concept has picked up much visibility since then.

I was at the station at a later hour than my usual and had a chance to catch one little thread in this vast nervous system that feeds the city. Truly, the dabbawallas do Mumbai proud. It makes one choke up just seeing the neatly lined up lunch boxes.

The train pulled in and I got into the compartment. And there I met yet another Mumbai railway relic - the train sellers of trinkets. Of course their wares vary from hour to hour. So the early morning hears a nasal twang hawking railway timetables and ginger sweets (Adrak ki goli, rupaye ka teeeeeeen...). Move into rush hour and a topi-clad teenager waves a newspaper in your face (Mid-Day...Mid-Day..Midddd-Dayyyyy..). Stagger out of rush hour and we're into trinket territory.

Presumably there's more space to display these wares in the late morning/early afternoon hours when the commuters are dispersed across seats instead of crammed into them. The target audience a.k.a. college kids also make their journey upto campuses around this hour.

Fifteen rupees buys you a spider-clamp clip or a pair of fake pearl-drop chandeliers. Put in twenty more and you can have your pick of a retro headband (Cosmo-inspired) or a matching bracelet. Haggle a bit and you just might get a free scrunchy thrown in for good measure. Or a super-long string of beads that can be used as an anklet, doubled or tripled into a neck piece, wrapped around a bag-strap, woven into a hairdo, wrapped around the waist or just slung over the neck.

And finally, let's never forget that we're home to the biggest entertainment industry in the world and talent is found in unexpected places. I see this girl often on the trains, always accompanied by a little boy with a harmonium. She hops on to the train with the same off-to-work expression that is mirrored by the other commuters in the compartment. They wait till the train picks up speed and everyone is settled in, bags put away in the upper rack, seating negotiated. Then he starts picking the chords and the girl starts, wherever she is standing - usually right in the center aisle. Her compact size and nimble feet make it possible for her to prance in the little spaces between commuters as well, deftly avoiding people's feet. Then they stop mid-song to scope out the crowd and if it doesn't look very interested or moneyed they move on to another dabba.

Maybe in a few years she'll make it to Jhalak Dikhla Ja or perhaps he'll be the next Indian Idol. Or maybe they'll just be street kids on a Mumbai train.

Photo Essay: My Mum's Cooking!

Dr Bhaskar Dasgupta — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 01:40:52 EST

Ok, I am going to get into so many types of trouble for this essay. Lets see, my wife is going to get upset because I am praising my mum's cooking, my stomach's going to get upset because I will be cramping at the thought, my shirt will be upset with the drool, the vegetarians will be upset with the non-vegetarian food being cooked and so on and so forth. But, hey, it was GOOOOOOOD food. And when its grandkids wanting specific food, grandma went all overboard.

My mum's amazing, she has retired now, but she just retired as a full professor of geography, she acts on the stage, film and radio and has awards for them, she paints and sculpts, she was a very good classical dancer before the knees gave way, wonderful singer, she has got awards for her language skills and contributions to Hindi, Sanskrit, Urdu and Bengali, she is busy gallivanting around the world (every year or so, she takes off to go around the world somewhere, her recent trip was to Egypt!), she cooks divinely. Oh!, she can ride, hunt and shoot.

She taught me how to skin and dress a rabbit and a pigeon! :). She is very well read and collects Ganesh figurines (a photo essay on that is forthcoming). She did the interior decoration as well as the architecting of our (and several other houses!), she knits the most amazing jumpers and even sewed my shirts and trousers when we used to be a bit tight for money. Very impressive, is me mum. And this year, if everything works out fine, we will write a book together. But that's jumping the gun, here are some of her culinary masterpieces.

So this is the jelly as little grand-daughter requested and I loved it, just look at that HUGE mouth and HUGE eyes. And these are the prawns being prepared. Golda Chingri (King Prawn Curry!) Pulao Rice and plain rice.

Pineapple and Cherry Cake on the left, chocolate and loads of other stuff including rum and fruit Christmas cake on the rightDidu made a tiny chocolate cake just for me. Baked fish, this is just yummy mummy for my tummy!

    Roast Chicken, gosh, the entire house was permeated with absolutely divine aroma's all day long while this was cooking. The gravy at the bottom for those who wanted some stuff to go with the roti's.
   Three types of fish curry.



Boiled vegetables and she also made her own special mayonnaise. Yummy if absolutely terrible for my spreading waistline!.

This is one of my favorite breakfast dishes, sattu (made out of gram flour, i like it with some lemon, lots of jaggery and eat away!) Cauliflower dry curry, perfect for travels or with roti's.    the traditional style of making tea, dump everything (tea leaves, water, sugar, cow juice) into a pan and bring to a ruthless boil, strain and serve.

Here's one of the full spread

Then there is my dad, the proud owner of 18 degrees in engineering, the archetypal absent-minded professor. He spent 6.5 minutes trying to figure out why on earth the microwave wasn't working despite him peering all over and pressing every button (and some lettering as well). His nod to cooking is restricted to "warming".Then he finally figured out that it needs to be plugged in. Once that little problem was solved, then the 2 samosas were warmed up and little Diya could eat them. He was so pleased and proud with his performance that we all had to admit that his "cooking" was magnitudes better than Mum's.

Full slide-show here.

Jallikattu - Taming The Bulls In Thammampatti

Suruchi — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 04:03:16 EST

The juggernaut

A sea of humans swells and ebbs in Thammampatti, a small town near Salem in Tamil Nadu. There are people everywhere easily tens of thousands; they flood the roads filling the narrow alleys, their eager faces gaze down from rooftops, they are perched precariously on bamboo scaffoldings to get a better look. And then comes the juggernaut, the bull.

Festooned with gulal, ribbons and garlands and moving its head agitatedly showing off the razor-sharp horns it tears past the mass of humans. A hush engulfs the crowd and the excitement is palpable. The not-so-brave scamper to shelter themselves from the onslaught; the barricades are no match to the brute force of the beast. The alley, which looked jam-packed just one moment back, miraculously gives way.

Horns, Hump and the tail: Different folks, different strokes

The brave and the not-so-brave
A few brave men venture forward; almost all of them are in high spirits, literally and figuratively speaking. The most audacious among them make an attempt for the bull’s hump, the not-so-daring make for its tail and the puniest among them are content to just touch the bull and beat it once.

The scene gets repeated many times with myriad variations.

A muscular man who looks smug holding on to the bull’s tail, is shaken off the next moment and falls violently on the ground; an anxious murmur rises from the crowd but the very next moment he is back on his feet looking smug again.

Don’t mess with me!

The bull corners a man and they stare at each other, eyes unblinking. The scene looks straight out of a typical Bollywood movie, the crowd holds on to its breath, another man lunges for the bull from behind and the fellow in front runs for his life.

Two hot to handle!

A bull is goring a group of men; it is black in color with its skin gleaming in the hot Sun. Till now it has shaken off everyone who has tried to get on it. And suddenly without any warning another burly black bull crashes into the crowd.

A rather lanky fellow in shiny blue jersey and shorts holds on to the hump of the bull with a triumphant look on his face and the crowd goes giddy with joy.

Bull taming, Indian Style
This is Jallikattu for you, an ancient bull taming sport played in Tamil Nadu, India as a part of the celebrations of harvest festival, Pongal. The ritual dates back to 2000 years, in fact there are several rock paintings, at remote Karikkiyur village in the Nilgiris district in Tamil Nadu that show men chasing bulls.

A particularly ferocious species of bull, the Kangeyam bull is let on rampage and taming it without any weapon whatsoever is taken as a mark of masculinity. The man who holds on to the bull from the entrance of the bull pen to the marker can boast about it all round the year, and of course he is entitled to the prizes like cash, watches, lungis, cookers etc. Legend has it that in earlier days women used the game to choose their husbands.

But what am I doing here? Certainly not looking for potential husbands.

So much for glory?

The electric atmosphere
I am standing delicately on a rooftop; I have my weapon in my hand, my new camera Canon Rebel XT on which dust has already started settling. My fellow shutterbugs are somewhere around, lost in the throng, busy capturing the event through their lenses.

The staggering crowd

The sun is beating down on us relentlessly; the odor of sweat mingling with dry air is omnipresent. An ice candy man has found room in the street down amidst the commotion and he is selling orange candies. I lust these sweetmeats, but make do with water for now, I don’t want to lose this spot, which presents a good view of the alley down.

The commetator’s voice punctuates the already tense air; I don’t understand a thing, my knowledge of Tamil being limited to a few unmentionable expletives and movie songs. But my friends tell me later that the commentator announces the prize money attached to a particular bull thus goading and enticing men to run for it.

And do the already charged men need any goading? They fall on the bull without any prompting.

A kid in the safe hands of his granny

You need a funny bone
There are light moments too, in the otherwise violent and charged atmosphere.

A man looking abashed is being pulled back home forcefully by his wife, who certainly doesn’t looked amused by the idea of her husband taming the bull and in turn being gored by it.

A silence falls over the crowd in expectance of the bull, but a collective laughter rises from the crowd as the object of curiosity turns out to be a dog.

A local enthusiastically tells me that this happens only in Tamil Nadu, I want to tell him about the Spanish bullfights, but by now I’ve realized that Jallikattu is quite different. Unlike the Spanish bullfights Jallikattu does not end with the death of the bull. And moreover I don’t want to puncture his enthusiasm so I nod at him smiling.

Earlier in the day we had visited a bullpen. The bulls specially bred for Jallikattu are brought from districts near and far, some on foot and some hauled on small tempos. Even when tied to a leash it takes at least two to three men to control a bull.

The balance in this sport is tilted in the bull’s favor if you consider the raw power of a bull against that of a single man. But when its one bull against the crowd the balance gets skewed and in Thammampatti I saw this happening quite often.

One Against Many: A Skewed Balance

Surviving Jallikattu, unscraped
But even when the throng is against the bull there are cases of injuries, it is not a place for the timid hearted, and blood shed is commonplace here. The Supreme Court of India had banned Jallikattu, but it revoked the ban under the condition that necessary precautions would be taken to prevent cruelty to animals and injuries to humans.

And precautions are taken in Thammampatti, an ambulance is doing rounds of the alleys, bulls are subjected to a round of screening before the event, police personnels are posted all along the street though they are having a hard time controlling the staggering crowd.

The throng carries on enthusiastically till the last bull is brought out. The sun is all set to dip. The crowd, tired after a hard day, disperses. The street vendors selling idli, vada and other South Indian delicacies are doing a brisk business. We indulge in some yummy street food before we start back for Bangalore.

The next day as I read the newspapers I come to know that around 70 persons were injured in the Jallikattu in Thammampatti, much less than the count last year. Given that there have been two hundred casualties in Jallikattu in the last one decade, the Supreme Court ban though revoked seems to have made this sport a little safe at least. I send a silent prayer to my Gods for having survived my friends and me unscraped through Jallikattu, though a bizarre one at that, Jallikattu was an experience worth having.

*gulal - Colored powder
*lungi - A garment worn round the waist.
*idli - A savory cake made of batter of fermented rice, black lentils and fenugreek, a popular snack throughout South India.
*vada - A dough nut shaped South Indian delicacy made from lentil.