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Showing posts from 2016

Waves of melody

An interview with Jala Tarang artist, Milind Tulankar. After we finished the interview with Milind Tulankar, he played a video of a jugalbandi featuring him playing the jala tarang, Taufiq Qureshi on djembe and Ramdas Palsule on the tabla. A few minutes into listening the sometimes fast, and sometimes slow pieces, we felt waves of joy washing over us. That experience connected us with what Tulankar was trying to say earlier, “Water is what we seek. It’s the biggest destresser.” Tulankar, who began playing the instrument when he was nine or 10 under the tutelage of his grandfather, Pt Shankar Kanhere, explains that jala tarang is an ancient Indian music instrument, dating back to 2nd or 3rd century BC. “It’s mentioned in Sanskrit texts as Jalatantri Veena or Udak Vadya. It was played even before we started using or discovered China Clay crockery. Earlier, it used to be played on metal utensils like copper or bronze,” says Tulankar. Jala tarang is a basic instrument in the

In Bombay's Belly (Interview with Jerry Pinto)

I loved this memoir a lot. It's an interesting who's who of theatre and cinema personalities. It's also on Mumbai, my favourite city, which was once upon a time an inclusive city. The interview: When you put down I, the Salt Doll , you smile slowly to yourself. Rarely does a book take you into a familiar territory and yet manage to unearth a few new gems. I, the Salt Doll is an autobiography of Vandana Mishra, formerly known as Sushila Lotlikar, who started with experimental Marathi theatre and then went on to perform in Gujarati and Marwadi theatre in the early 1940s. Translated by Jerry Pinto from the Marathi original — Mee Mithachi Bahuli — it captures Mumbai of the yore and journey of the author without any dramatic flourishes. Over to Pinto: You read the original repeatedly because you connected with Mumbai, the city that was inclusive. Is there something else that you learnt about the city through the book, which you didn’t know earlier? Each person we meet, e

Once upon a time with...Tagore and Gulzar

I met Gulzar at 'Boskyana' his home in Mumbai. Wonderful interview. And, a nervous me dropped my pen thrice. For once I wasn't harsh with myself for behaving clumsily. I was face to face with Gulzar, and it's okay to nervous. ---- On a lazy Saturday afternoon, we sit on high-backed iron chairs, plumped up with cushions. The white chair across the desk is empty but any moment, a ‘ literary giant’ is going to arrive to occupy it. The door opens and an old gentleman with twinkling eyes enters, his palms joined in Namaste. ‘Namashkar’, his low, timbered voice greets us as we rise to our feet to wish him. The ‘giant’ disappears and in his place sits a genial man, with lots of stories to share. So, do we talk on Tagore? He queries as he settles down in the chair. And then begins his tale of friendship and admiration for another literary legend — Rabindranath Tagore. Gulzar, noted film lyricist, writer and poet, was in his tweens, when he first read the Urdu translatio

Getting into someone's Kolhapuri

Here's an interview of author and former journalist Anjali Joseph Walking down the streets of Paris, Anjali Joseph, came across a pair of Kolhapuri chappals in a fancy store. They were stamped with 'Genuine Kolhapuri Chappals' tag. In the middle of the road, Joseph stared as if she had met a family member, after long time, in a strange land,. “I felt like asking the footwear, 'what are you doing here?' My brother and I wear Kolhapuris, most people in my family do and there's deep attachment and comfort associated with the footwear,” says Joseph. No wonder than that the Kolhapuris and their makers find themselves in Joseph's third book – The Living. “There are two main characters in the book. Claire is a a single parent to a teenaged boy. She is working in one of the last surviving shoe factories, in Norwich, United Kingdom. And, then there is a man called Arun in Kolhapur, who makes the Kolhapuri chappals. The protagonists don't meet, but their s

Messengers of social reform

I had chatted with Dr Ramchandra Dekhane. Here's the interview Around 800 years ago, the sant sampraday (saint community) of Maharashtra wanted to reach out to the masses. They knew that their attempt to bring about a renaissance in society through writing would be limited to a niche segment. By then, folk artists like Vasudev, Kadak Lakshmi, Pingala and Joshi had already made inroads into the villages. They entertained the villagers through their acts. Sant Eknath and others then decided that these folk artists would be the messengers of social reform,” explains Dr Ramchandra Dekhane, a research scholar in the field of folk art and saint literature. These folk artistes were called the ‘Bahurupi Kalakar’ or multi-faceted artists. The Bahurupi, down the ages, began to be referred to as Bharud. “Bharud is a spiritual folk art. It is also a full-fledged form of sant/ saint literature and is connected with the kirtan tradition of Maharashtra. It is also associated with folk art

A true Warkari

Who is a true Warkari? The laymen gathered on the roadside to watch the palkhis-procession of Saint Dnyaneshwar and Saint Tukaram, often express awe at the clock-work precision of the wari. The stops are scheduled, the dindis or the groups preceding and following the palkhi are disciplined. Explaining the working of the dindi, Vivekananda or Rana Vaskar Maharaj, says, “The Vaskar dindi is the first, immediate dindi ahead of Dnyanoba raya's palkhi. Ahead of us are 27 authorised dindis, nagarkhana and the horse. Behind the palkhi there are several more dindis and followers, not necessarily warkaris.” The current Maharaj's ancestor, Mallappan Vaskar, Haibat Baba Arphalkar and Shitole Sardar (sardar in Mahadji Shinde's armed force) resumed the practise of wari to Pandharpur. So the first honour in the long line of procession goes to Vaskar dindi. The head of Vaskar dindi is also the one who settles any difference or grievances amongst the warkaris. “The format of dindi

Kitchen on the road

This is another Wari story. Talked to the women who manage the kitchen of dindis - or groups of warkari. For several years now, Pune has been playing a good host to the warkaris, offering food, water, medication etc. But, a dedicated or a true-blue warkari will not accept any assistance, decline it gently, chanting the name of 'Hari'. The reason is that every dindi has their own kitchen, a team of dedicated cooks, who do no charge a single penny for feeding 300 or more number of pilgrims. We meet a group of women cooks at Alandi, who have travelled all the way from Kolhapur district to serve the warkaris of Vaskar dindi. Ranjana Patil, accompanied by her son, Nitin and his wife, and a group of six women, cook breakfast, lunch, evening, tea and dinner for the warkaris. “We have been coming to Alandi for 25-30 years now. We get all the samaan – from utensils to rice, dal, masalas, pickles, salt, sugar etc on our own. We collect money amongst ourselves, sometimes someone fro

Smiling, happy faces throng the wari

I was asked to visit Alandi to meet the warkaris (people who undertake annual pilgrimage from Alandi to Pandharpur via Pune and other towns). Here's the first story Smiling, happy faces throng the wari A steady stream of people, the men in dhoti or vijar and sadra (white dhoti or loose pants and shirt), the women mostly in nine-yard sarees, with kids in tow, are crossing the bridge over the Indrayani river to meet their Mauli. Saint Dnyaneshwar's or Mauli's samadhi at Alandi is their destination for tonight. On Wednesday morning, alongwith the palkhi or the procession of Sant Dnyaneshwar's paduka (wooden footwear), they will set out on foot to Pune, their pit stop for two days, before crossing several villages to congregate at Pandharpur on Ekadashi. The journey, which might seem arduous to most of us, is nothing short of worship for the warkaris – or the pilgrims. “Don't ask me how many times I have gone on wari. We don't count. Does one keep track of