Tummbad

About one, that’s beyond the human comprehension it’s said,” For those who believe, no proof is required. And for those who don’t believe, no proof is sufficient.” In a way its escapism but that’s the way things stand. Even the believers openly challenge, “Where science stops, our faith starts!” And really there is no counter-argument to it. Occult is so mystic that it can lead you into the deep dark, deeper you venture, darker it becomes. It has so many shades and layers that one may be lost in it, forever. The eeriest myriad can be woven into a most intriguing yarn, but yarn all the same!

‘Tummbad’, a Marathi movie made in Hindi says that it’s inspired from the stories of famous Marathi writer Late Mr Narayan Dharap. And how you connect! Mr Narayan Dharap was a writer of our teens! He was a techno[B.Sc Tech] and not a writer by profession to start with, [he became much later, maybe in the mid sixties], but published his first novel in Marathi magazine when we were school going teens.”Possessed” would be a far gentler word. The entire generation of book-loving teenagers of that era was carried away by his writings. His stories took us into unknown lands where your reason always took a back seat, but it mesmerized you beyond the mundane things like belief, intellect or reason! Once you accept the premise, everything is plausible and possible! [ And why not? When one throngs and goes gaga over Omens and Exorcists ]

Incidentally, his elder son Rajeev was our class/batchmate, so more the attachment.

Though there is ‘Tome’ [a big novel in sections] by the same name in Marathi by famous writer Late Mr S N Pendse, ‘Tummbadche Khot’, [ Rulers of Tummbad] but apart from the hierarchical structure borrowed for the narration, the movie does not have any resemblance to it.

Dark. Occult. Mystic. Black magic. Thinking mind of today’s generation might not fathom it any at level but if you consider it as an art form, you get a classic like ‘Tummbad’!

The opening frame itself gives the hint of what is in store for the viewer already on the edge of his/her seat. The Cascades of waters, thrashing rains lambasting battered lonely citadel standing amidst the vast emptiness, carrying warts and wounds of the bygone era. A lady, a widow, in her ‘Alawan’ [Red sari for Marathi Widow in the last century] clinging to her hairless pate standing desolately in front of the menacing main gate, gathering her every wit to enter the cursed vaastu. And as she enters, the most engrossing story laced with fear, anxiety, lure, greed, desires, lust and love starts unfolding in front of you.

The Writers [Barve and Gandhi] do not go for any gimmicks to create the dark ambience. The story itself keeps on becoming so dark that they do not need any other capers to create the effect. The photography not very tricky, but profound enough to keep the scare in the minds of viewers aflame. Incessant rains, so nicely captured with skies doomed with dark clouds hovering over all the time, make all the other photographic embellishments redundant!

It’s a thriller, all said and done so it would be wise to refrain from telling the storyline and of course the end. It would suffice to say that it’s though gory and unholy, nonetheless brings tears in the eyes for, love of a father for his son!

Performances are A class. Sohum Shah, Vinayak,  is rigid many times, but that could be the need of the character. His steely grey eyes, the hallmark of Kokanstha Brahmins, the protagonists in the movie, do not let out his inner feelings to the shore any time, again the hallmark of the KoBras! To undergo the ordeals posed by the unholy, one has to be heartless at one level, and so the stiffness. But when it comes down to his son, it melts down and he becomes ready for the ultimate sacrifice and how!

His son, played by Mohd Samad has imbibed the character so much that you forget that he is far away from the ethnic group. His lust for money and then the shock with the grief of losing the father shows on his face and body language vividly.

The real manipulator here is the director. Mr Rahi Anil Barve, [Son of Famous writer Mr Anil Barve who wrote very successful dramas like  ‘Hamidabaichi Kothi’, ’Thank you Mr Glad’.] And the genes show, of course, I definitely am not undermining his talent but in Marathi we say,

“ Let the Son be such a goon that his trumpets are blown way beyond!”

and he has proven it beyond the doubt. Every frame captured is an example of good storytelling, command over the medium, photography beyond compare and true to its genre. A tough task, carried on, on the strong shoulders! It’s definitely a thriller but no gimmicks here. The ambience, the narration, the twists, the anxiety of what’s next, come at a varied pace. At times it hits you right between the eyes suddenly; at times it grows on you like evil creeper suffocating you slowly. The photography suits the contents so aptly that it too becomes one of the characters those unfold in front of you, eerie end of greed, most mystically.

Those who love Cinema here is yet another masterpiece to gobble up with eyes, senses and intelligence! Go for it.

Movies. Now and Then !

Due, maybe to my demanding profession or maybe self-imposed exile[ from the films], I remained away from the nearest multiplex, that’s just across the road from where I stay, for more than 3 months. Then there was as if the deluge of movies. Thanks to my Australia returned daughter who was longing for ethnic fare and my about to be a mother, daughter in law, who wanted to bide away time enjoying to the last moment, I ended up viewing 5 movies in course of 3 to 4 weeks. Practically movie a week. It was sort of ‘Déjà vu’

Indians are fanatic about mostly 3 things. 1. Politics 2. Cricket. 3. Bollywood. The order may differ but that’s LCD for every Indian. For me, movies are number one!

This gene of frequenting cinema halls probably came from my mother’s side. My grandmother was an avid cinemagoer, so was my mother. And I remember seeing more than 40 movies in one of the summer vacations lasting for 45 to 50 days. But the difference in now and then, I realized now, is drastic.

The movies Bollywood churned out in those days when I was in teens, were absolute trash, crude and to a point damn vulgar. I feel now ashamed that how could I sit through movies like, ‘Waaris, Amar Akbar Anthony, Dharmveer, Dreamgirl, oh so many others, for more than 3 hours at a stretch! Blockbusters no doubt, but real contents, absolutely zero, some downright crude with a headache as an after effect!  It’s not that it was an absolute drought of good movies then but they were very few and hit the screens far apart. Khamoshi by Hemantkumar being one of them. Do Aakhen Barah Haath by V. Shantaram, another rare one! Unfortunately, they fared invariably very badly at the box office. The fans could easily digest blood flowing through three tubes against gravity, getting mixed up on the way and being transfused to the recipient without having any adverse effect but did not like anything that was even a quarter of an inch closer to the reality.

In contrast, the movies in today’s’ times not only vary vastly in contents but the treatment given too changes accordingly, suiting the script and the plot. Again, they are definitely not masterpieces but the storyline is plausible, acting restrained and narration acceptable, all in all, good cinematic experiences.

‘Andhadhun’ is one of them. To see Ayushman Khurrana pretending to be blind with all the shades of real and fake blindness, was a treat to the eyes. No doubt he is an actor par excellence and also knows his job very well, which reflects in his selection of movies, and shows that he is intelligent too. Quality that squarely lacked in the heroes of yesteryears. It was pathetic to see Rajesh Khanna masquerading as blind in Mere Jeevan Saathi and an army Doctor trying every bit to keep him blind so that he gets the heroine in the end!

It was equally  absurd to watch Rajendrakumar in every alternate movie, going in the arms of an actress obviously younger than him and shouting,” Maaaaa, Today I cleared B.A. in first class.” In front of morose father, hanging on the wall, in the garlanded photo frame! And then in film after film Maa used to reply, ‘I have made Gajar ka Halwa for you my dear!’ And surprisingly patrons lapped it up in dollops after dollops!

‘Stree’ totally a new genre. Horror comedy! So unknown to Bollywood so far that nobody even had tried it in the past. They made horror movies no doubt but in the end, they turned out to be comical unwittingly! Utterly Laughable stock!

Though it went on the oft-repeated path, even ‘Manmarjia’ was much watchable than such triangular love stories of the yore. It had a freshness and it depicted today’s youth in all grey shades and not like goodie, goodie chocolate boys of mid-eighties or nineties! For a change, even Abhishek Bachchan carved a niche, for himself in the acting department!

'Batti Gul Meter Chalu', though not anywhere near the classics of the genre, PadMan or Toilet Ek love story, it did strike the sore thumb out. It did have a good message with nicely woven yarn and very good performance by Shahid.

‘Tummbad’ is way beyond all these so about it, later!.

All the movies those are hitting the screen now and coming from the young blood are much much better than the ones churned out by the so-called stalwarts of the yesteryears who could not muster the courage to break the path and set out for the unknown. While running after the safe bets(read Switzerland) they lost the very soul of the art form. And what was presented, was plastic without any essence of life!

Today’s films vary in contents tremendously, no oft-beaten tract for them; they are earthier so smell fresh. They are script bound and do not waver according to the so-called whims of the market. So no unnecessary songs or gaudy item number by a vamp or similarly looking heroine where you cannot differentiate one from the other.

Today we can safely say, 'Indian cinema has really come of age!'

White lies ? Who knows !

What makes a person write his/her autobiography? Or others to scribble on his biopic? Are the intentions in both the cases really honest and genuine or it’s just an exercise to allow everybody to peep into their past, this much and not more and that too from their point of view.

Most of the biopic/ autobiographies are full with the anecdotes those are far from the reality. In such a situation I would welcome someone like Shobha Dey who at the outset itself declares that they are ‘Selected memories! And thus gets away from the torrid details of her florid life that every soul on this side of the world knows but ‘she’ only selectively forgets them rather than putting them as her memoirs!

I did read most of the biographies when I was either in school or college so did not have access to the ones written in English. The ones I read afterward too did not strike me as there was no reference to the context, so they were just like reading another novel, notably that of Lee Iacocca.

Though it was in Marathi the most candid biography that was honest to the last ‘T’ was ‘Sangatye Eika’ [‘Listen to what I am telling’]. It was narrated [The protagonist was semiliterate so could not write her own memoirs till late in her life] by extremely controversial film actress of yesteryears Ms. Hansa Wadkar. Movie ‘Bhumika’ for which late Smita Patil received accolades and awards in dozens was loosely based on it. She was truthful, honest, candid and extremely blunt to the last detail and did not hesitate to take the names. The intellectual director who was supposed to be in her love and lured her away from her broken marriage promising the moon too wrote his biography later but did not have the guts to admit the folly on his part, thus making my point strong about the very purpose of writing the ‘Autobiography’.

There are two autobiographies by the same name but different [?] authors. One by the maestro of Hindi and Marathi cinema V. Shantaram and other, a semiautobiographical account by Australian ex-bank cheater G D Roberts. The 1^st one by V. Shantaram conveniently omits many details that might have created a lot of furor, maybe, while the second one did create havoc by its lurid details of the soft underbelly of Mumbai, the details here too were denied by the ones mentioned! The question then arises, whom to believe!

The latest example is a biopic on Sanjay Dutt by Raju Hirani

Nothing matches the guts of the producer and the director,[ and of course? the script writer]  who tried to whitewash the convicted criminal’s trials and tribulations with the kid’s gloves. For the crime which Mr. Dutt committed, he was left with much, much milder sentence. Mr. Dutt’s life is like an open book and everybody knows everything about his misdeeds and how he got away because of the connections at the higher levels. He did not stop at that but had the guts to appear on the national TV to vouch for his innocence. I won’t blame him. Because we don’t have honest national character, people like Mr. Dutt and his cronies could get away with encashing their cards on the way to the bank!

Of course, there are many more those could be worth a read but are they too not from the person’s point of view and may require to take with a pinch, at times with tonnes of salt? Nonetheless, they are readable. Is it because it arouses voyeur in us?

The Royal family of Tadoba

There are always two groups, glaringly opposite to each other. Coffee lovers and Tea lovers. Cat lovers versus Dog lovers. Mumbaikars fighting Punekars. Similarly, there are Lion lovers and/or Tiger lovers. I am without doubt 'Tiger' lover. For me, the lions are lazy, dirty, graceless wild cats, who have unnecessarily been crowned as the 'King' of the jungle! The real king without any doubt whatsoever is definitely 'Tiger'! It starts with the appearance itself. The brightly glistening yellow black stripes, the pattern of which is unique for every individual animal, in itself are mesmerizing. The face though devoid of mane, sharp and prominent whiskers with distinguishing features make him look as if some dignified king is making his presence felt. And if you watch him walking, ah, that grace, that poise, that grandeur even the topmost model cannot imitate to the tenth! 
We were extremely lucky to have Paresh Deshmukh and Ameya Gole as our guides, mentors and teachers in the jungles of Tadoba. They knew the entire terrain like the lines on the palms. At every juncture, we were told some enthralling details which not only made us richer in the knowledge but removed many misconceptions about tigers and their abode!
Royal Bengal Tigers, tigers of India, were about to be extinct but thanks to the hard work of youngsters like Paresh and Ameya and the original inhabitants of the jungles, now the population of Tigers is on the rise.
The forest is divided basically into two prominent zones, The Core zone where the animals rule the roost and The Buffer zone where humans and tigers try to coexist. The hamlets those were deep inside the Core zone have been shifted elsewhere to facilitate the free movement of the tigers for breeding. And it has helped. There are hardly any villages now in the core zones but the buffer zones still have more than 50 villages where the tussle for existence between the beast and the humans goes on. It's really a dicey situation because the question is, what should be put at the stake, conservation of the tigers or the human lives? I don't have the answers.
The first one that we sighted was male. Shying away from the passing crowd of so-called nature lovers who were more of picnickers than the 'Tiger' lovers, he lay cool in the shades of bamboo bunches. The interesting thing is that every tiger in the area is affectionately called by some name and he was Chhota Mogali.

The immensely hot season, though not suitable for humans, is the best season to sight the animal with grace par excellence! They set out to be near the waterhole all the time, to keep cool and quench the thirst! But the natural waterholes were limited and far apart so the Tiger conservation body has built many artificial waterholes those pump out the water from the borewells using solar panel electricity. I may have sighted an another one behind Chhota Mogali but everybody vetoed me out. And within minutes, call of another tiger sighting came in. These calls are absolutely mysterious for the city dwellers and they can hardly comprehend them! But the locals immediately pick them up and take the necessary action. The peculiar call may be in the form of, monkeys running amuck suddenly or making shrieking sounds, birds flying away in every direction or the deer running away for their lives.  

The guides and the jeep drivers are picked up from the local tribes, mostly 'Gonds' and 'Pardans' They are so adept with the topography of the region that they navigate to the site where the 'Movement'[ that's the word used for feline activity] is observed, in no time. Within minutes, with the least audible sound of our jeep engine, the driver took us to the site where a tigress was taking her afternoon nap. She was 'Kuhani'.[ maybe Kouni].

Of the tigers and tigresses, we saw thereafter, she was the most listless! As they say, without even batting the eyelid she viewed us with her kinky eyes and went back to sleep or did she pretend? Because within minutes she changed her posture, yawned opening her jaw widely, showing her menacing dentures with those ultra-sharp canines, for which the wild cats are famous, and just ignored us as if we were some unimportant creatures trying to beg for her 'Darshan'!

The waterholes too have been given names which are as peculiar as tigers themselves. Kankazari, Raiba, Shivanzari etc. At Shivanzari,  the black leopard was sighted only a few days ago, probably for the first time in the history of Tadoba Andhari Tiger Reserve! Here the titbit provided by Ameya was damn interesting. There is nothing like 'Black Leopard'. It's only the variation in melanin pigmentation, just like us in humans, that makes the cat special. So the way we have Albino tigers of Rewa in Madhya Pradesh where they don't have melanin, here it is the leopard who has the excess of it! 
It's very interesting to note that, when a male tiger delineates his area by urinating on the surroundings he allows only females to venture but fights tooth and nail with another male trying to intrude his domain, to protect it! And here comes the peculiar statistics! If one tiger proclaims around 100 to 300 acres of the jungle as his domain, as of now there is not enough forest cover to accommodate prevalent male tiger population! The forest which once was covering 33% of land in India, has now been reduced to mere 13%. Is the growing human population responsible, if so, what's the solution? Would there be a political will to curtail the cancerous growth of human population??!!

Sighting full-grown tiger was a feast to the eyes while watching the games of the tiger cubs was enormously entertaining. Junabai has made Madnapur as her home and has three cubs.[ Cubs are not given the names, till they mature, i.e.are two years of age.] These ones are hardly 8 months old. Absolute pranksters. Oblivious of the prying human eyes, or maybe they just ignored us, they were having a gala time while prancing in the water. They mockingly fought, jumped on each other, chased, maybe playing hide and seek, they were doing everything that normal human twins would do in the respective age!
Moharli Dewda gate is the most popular gate of Tadoba as it is juxtaposed to the highway, so is easily accessible. The number of vehicles allowed too is quite handsome. And that makes it 'Tiger Funfair for the tourists'. I just abhorred the crowds, their unruly behaviour and their callousness towards decorum that the jungle normally demands. They were behaving as if they were on the beaches of Goa! It was exactly how tourism should not be! But I would just forget and forgive them as the most memorable moment in the lives of everybody who was in our jeep was enacted on the stage that was just a few metres away.

Lara the tigress with enchanting grace was sighted near the waterhole of Dewada. She must be actress beyond compare. She had a huge audience but she cared two hoots for it. Though the waterhole was just a few metres away from her, she did not move an inch for more than two hours, kept her suitors waiting for aeons and then as if in trance got up, went straight to the waterhole in her leisurely gait, had a nice dip in the cool waters and then ventured out to search for her cubs. We were far behind in the queue so could not see her vividly. I don't know how our driver manipulated, of course, he did not break any rule nor was he hostile towards any of our co-revellers, but somehow in minutes, we, who were the last ones became the first in the queue. And Lara for our feat honoured us with her most exotic appearance.

She lingered around our jeep at a distance of merely few metres, examined us from top to bottom, passed by the side, just next to Pradnya, then retraced back to vanish in the jungles to search for her cubs.

On seeing the tigress from such close quarters my daughter Saana burst out in tears as she could not believe her own eyes. A full-grown tigress of real wilds, in flesh and blood, had just passed by her! 
It's difficult to keep chronology so I am just jotting down the narrative as it suits. 
On the penultimate day of our camping, we decided to visit the jungles from a totally different gate. Kolara gate And the gamble paid. As soon as we entered, there was a call. Two cubs were sighted sitting on the earthen dam. Both females, totally in the playful mood. How we Indians behave in extreme, unusual environs tells largely about our character as citizens. In short, we are useless, horrible citizens! A family with a kid in arms was in the jeep just behind our's. The kid started howling so the head of the family was requested to retrace back. He started arguing with the guide and the driver, 'It's just a child!' The guide said, 'Whatever! When the tiger cubs are in the vicinity you have to keep mum, period.' He just did not budge so we all have to reprimand him,' That's tiger cub, no less. Do as told.' He got the message so retraced back without uttering another word. At such places, it's very foolish to carry babes in the arms!

Another group from Mumbai was over smart. One of the two cubs had come so near to their jeep that she was almost in attacking position. But these fools were busy in taking selfies with her. Our guide literally had to shout at the driver of their jeep to reverse to avoid the catastrophe. They complied but the cub was not in a mood to give up. She advanced towards the jeep bit angrily. God knows maybe good sense prevailed upon her and grudgingly she went back. Mature adults may be less dangerous but as cubs are immature, they are most unpredictable. Fortunately for them, the mother tigress was not around otherwise the scenario would have been completely different! 
As Paresh has already put down, 10 campers, 4 days, travel of more than 600 kilometres,11 tigers, 2 leopards[ misfortune of our jeep, we could not sight them] Cobra, Civet, Rusty-spotted Cat, Monitor Lizard, Spotted Deer, Gaurs, Serpent Eagle and other countless exotic birds new friends and bountiful of memories. What more one wants!

Tadoba: An experience beyond compare !

Wanderlust is that bug when it bites it poisons your blood lifelong. I was under the assumption that I have done away with it. After visiting more than 20 countries, precisely 27, some more than once, roaming all over India practically covering all the states [ except J&K, which I never intend to, for reasons of my own] I had the feeling, not of boredom but of satiety. Enough I had said, I have seen all, done all and don't have the desire to set the foot out for yet another sojourn. It was not going to be so. Through a childhood chum, I came across two unimaginable, unthinkable remarkable young enthus who run the show of 'Footloose Journeys', Paresh Deshmukh and Ameya Gole, who made me rethink about my decision and there I was with my young dynamic daughter Saana, registering for the camp to be held in the thick jungles of Tadoba.
Apart from the tigers, those have eluded me previously in Pench and Sundarbans, there was also this dormant longing, 'To be in the land of my forefathers'. The Benurwars hail from the district of Chandrapur, previously known as Chanda in their times, and had owned acres and acres of land in a small village called Dhidshi from Rajura tehsil. If time permitted it was a plan to set foot on the soil which my grandfather, his father and his father tilled! I very well knew the constraints of the busy camping schedule but even then... maybe for another time!

People from Mumbai and Pune, me inclusive, have wrong notions about the parts they are not conversant with. The roads from Nagpur taking us to Tadoba were absolutely fabulous, wide and potholes free. Chandrapur too is a well-developed city, far away from the picture my mother had painted years ago that was vivid on my mind. I had never visited Chandrapur before leave aside Dhidshi, but when our Innova took a left turn for Tadoba, leaving the road to Rajura behind, there was a lump in the throat and an uneasy feeling in the chest, as if I was about to miss out on something. At one level it was overwhelming because barring first few early years of life, spent in Pachmarhi, I have spent my entire life in metropolises like Pune and Mumbai and thus never had the glimpse of my 'Native Place'.So the pull was unbelievable. Only for a few genetic strands those came from my father I had no physical or any emotional bonding with the place but the attraction was genuine and I myself was perplexed at my own emotion!  But I believe the future is always quirky and must be holding something good in his chest for me! Hope so!
Footloose fellows are extremely venturesome and are always on the lookout for off the beaten tracks. So rather than 'Doing' the Tadoba in every cliched manner, they had selected 'Kolsa' off Zhari buffer as the entry gate. There are in all six gates and these stalwarts had chosen all except the most frequented ones! By the time we reached Kolsa, a very small hamlet actually situated in the core zone, it was around 2 P.M. and it was sheer hell. The outside temperature had reached 47-degree Celsius! From frying pan to fire, directly! To leave cool Innova and step in the scorching sun was viva voce by the toughest 'Khadoos' examiners! And we passed it by almost running to the cool environs of our camping building that was air-conditioned! The pleasure of cool was not going to last long. Our first safari was to start at 3 PM just within 45 minutes after lunch.
As you travel in open 'Gypsies' your first concern is harsh sun followed by bothering dust. Thus the way one has to dress for extreme colds here too is a dress code that one must follow strictly. The colours must be matching with jungles, so green, ash, grey and dark sienna are the preferred ones. Bright colours, like reds, pinks, snow-white or shinners, are strict 'No"! Due to extreme sun, the head must be fully covered especially nape part of your neck. Bright sun makes it compulsory to wear shades, goggles. Sun protecting creams should be used liberally as 47 degrees is not less than hot air oven in the open! And most must! you have to keep on sipping the water every few minutes. You won't realise the loss of water from the skin, and as it hardly reaches kidneys, there is no urge to urinate! Hydrate, hydrate and hydrate, that's the mantra to survive in Tadoba!
Every gate is allowed a prerequisite number of open jeeps. Zhari gate has permission for few, so there is never overcrowding. Contrary to Zhari, Moharli has permission for so many, that in the end, it turned out to be funfair of the 'Tiger Touristers'.
Tadoba is thick jungle falling under the category of dry deciduous class. Though the trees are not very tall like in the rainforest, the density of trees is so much that it makes viewing of the other side totally difficult. Bahavas[ Amaltas in Hindi], teak trees, tendu, croc bark and bamboos dominate. The outer cover of Crocodile bark resembles back of the croc so much that one may get confused.
The tall yellow grass and drying bamboos are extremely good camouflage for striped tigers, so much so that at times even if you know that there is a tiger resting in the shadows, your eyes won't catch him. And it happened with us too, when I sighted the tiger for the first time! Apart from me, nobody could see him and they did not believe. He was so much one with the background that he hardly stood out! In the excitement I totally forgot that one must only whisper in the jungles, I exclaimed bit loudly " Look there he is, behind the bamboo bunch!"

and I got the reprimand of my life for "shouting" but, 'there' he was lying languidly, not bothered about the world passing by. Read chillar jungle enthus like us! Once he was sighted by everybody, there was just the stampede of camera clicks. Zooms came out, telescopic lenses struggled to capture him in a frame which at that juncture appeared bigger than the 'IMAX' screen!

And thereafter, it was as if Pandora's box was opened. Before we could realise, just a few kilometres away we heard a rustle behind a thick bush and there was some faint trace of a big black cotton ball rolling towards the road. The immediate reaction was "Shooo!" Our guide without directly pointing at him, that's not a done thing in the jungle, told us in a whisper, 'That's Sloth Bear, wait till he gets out on the open road, you'll get the full vision!.' And it happened exactly as he had predicted.

The animal was in need of water so was rushing to the waterhole. In minutes he came out, covered in thick black fur, pointed snout differently coloured than the fur, shining beady eyes, he was so much in a hurry as if was trying to catch 8.43 Dombivali fast! In a jiffy, he reached the waterhole, drank water to his heart's contents, and disappeared in the jungle behind equally fast! Even though it's very heavy it climbs up the tall trees, maybe more than 30 to 40 feet to savour the honey from the hive. And it leaves the nail marks on the bark of the tree

Beehives have 3 distinct parts. The white one, where the larvae live and finish off the honey for growth, the central dark part is full of bees where the queen bee resides while the fluorescent one has actual honey!

The jungle is full of Indian bison, locally known as 'Gaur', Wild Boars, Spotted deer,

Civet, Rusty-spotted jungle cats and an innumerable number of exotic birds. 

The wild dogs in the area at times are more ferocious than the tigers who may not attack the passers-by but the 'Dhole' as they are known are most likely to do so!





I lost the count of the birds we sighted. But those who etched vivid impression on the mind were regal, royal, dignified in every which way, all in all 'Serpent Eagle took the crown away.

Indian Pitta bird has so many bright colours that rainbow may lose the competition! To see a peacock in the wilds is also a sight to cherish. it flies from one tree to other so smoothly that 'Elegance' cannot be spelt differently.
Well about the Tigers, for what Tadoba is known for... Do you think it could be covered in one blog? So let's meet again to meet 'The Royal Family of Tadoba'.

Single Child

Neither I am one nor I have. What prompted me to search on the subject was a young girl in her early teens, of course, single child, with peculiar problems. Most of her problems seemed minor ones but the parents were not happy. Especially the mother. Actually, it was sort of deja vu. Around two decades ago I had a similar case, a girl in early teens appearing for some important examination came to see me, accompanied by her mother, single parent, as the husband was working abroad. Again an Only Child. That's how they are referred to as, in medical literature 'Only Children' who do not have any type of sibling, half, step or otherwise, cousins barred. Every time, when the daughter tried to communicate with me, mother took the reigns of conversation in her hands and spoke for her daughter thus.' We are tired of studies, We do not want to put in more than 4 hours even though the exams are this near. We do not like homemade food but prefer junk food. We rather than playing outdoors, love to watch TV for hours.' She went on and on. The rules imposed were strict, expectations were sky high and the tone was that of patronizing. The mother did not have the opportunities so she was trying her utmost to make them available for her daughter. The word that jarred me the most was 'WE'! Having only child and husband being away, this lady, the mother was so involved, rather was so much interfering with the life of the child that her very right to be an individual was being snatched away. It was as if a working unit of mother and daughter! I tried to counsel but it was too late!

And this time it clearly dawned upon me that the problem is not with the child but with this species, the Mother!

Any specimen from this special species, is highly educated and qualified [ both are not the same, necessarily], sitting at home, either by choice or out of other compulsions, a non-working mother who Dotes, Loves, Cares Cooks for her single, Only child, 24 into 7 ! And that becomes her only passion, profession, goal, aim, to carve out an exemplary adult out of her not so above average child! Thus starts the interference with the life of a child that continues even after they are beyond milk-drinking age, metaphorically and in a truer sense also! If the only child is the daughter 'God Forbid...!'

She takes decisions not only about his/her hobbies but with whom the child should befriend! If the standards are not met with, on any level, the friend is cut off though the child vibes well with him/her. One of my aunts cut off many such friends of my cousin, an only child, but every time he went ahead and befriended one of his kind, which my aunt never liked but never realized that it was her son who wanted so! 

Once, one of my acquaintances had come to stay with us, as her 'M.B.B.S.' daughter was to appear for 'M.D.' entrance exams. While we chatted away, this mother of a daughter, checked ten ball pens whether they were writing good or not, so that the child should not face any problem while writing the answers! Another one was doling out instructions after instructions to her only son who was pursuing a degree in higher engineering at out of the station prestigious institution, so naturally was staying in a hostel! She was just not allowing him to bloom on his own terms at his own will! Another one, 'Only' daughter forced her husband to give up his high post lucrative job in plush Europe to take up one in the arid Middle East where expatriates live life in nothing but Ghettos!

The values to be inculcated are not done at the gunpoint! Children pick them up while growing up, by observing their near and dear ones, especially their parents, how they behave in the given situation, are they true to their word, is the love true, are they pushing too much, Oh, it depends on so many things! And there is a certain age to imbibe, beyond that, the child either becomes mama's boy, thus getting ridiculed by the peer or rebels, that's but natural because in my opinion the one who does not rebel by raising the questions against the ill-conceived traditions, is not fit enough to call himself a youth! To rebel is the right of youth!

Unfortunately, the phenomenon is new to Indian society where multiple children is still a norm. Only recently this trend is catching on. So we don't have much research on the subject in the Indian context! Because of 'One Child' per family' policy in China, the subject was studied extensively, but there too, the focus was on the child and not on the circumstances those forced the child to become what he/she turned out to be! Wisely policy was withdrawn in 2005 for a multitude of reasons. Increase in crime rate being one! Consensus among-st the researchers is' These children do not have 'Agreeableness'. Naturally, as the indulgence by the parents especially the mothers, in Indian context 'Non-Working' mothers is beyond agreeable limits, which is done in full faith that 'It's done for the well being of the child !' Sorry I disagree, If you don't want your child to rebel, leave the noose, loose!

Gulabjam

After watching 'Gulabjam' a Marathi film on a man chef [ A rare concept in Marathi middle class milieu], or who wants to be one, one of my friends commented,'Less Milk solids, [Khawa], more flour, [Maida]'. Very aptly put. Though it's now running in its 4th or 5th week, damn a good show for a Marathi movie, I too had found it insipid. It does have all the ingredients to make a good film but somewhere along the line, it has missed the bull's eye. It does not have that 'Zing!'

But let me assure you that to make real 'Gulabjam'; too is equally arduous. Ask me.

I do like to dabble in the kitchen, as it's like a catharsis, as well as it's extremely creative, but it was never my dream to be a chef like, how they say in Master Chef. I have come a long way from.' I can't or He can not, make even a good cup of tea' Which I can not because I am a coffee person!

Today after experimenting for the nth time I may be in a position to say, I can dole out 'Gulabjams' those are mostly edible.

I started with Khawa, made especially for Gulabjams, that came from Pune. Pune is famous for it and gets it from nearby rural areas made by the local farmers. Though I could not differentiate it from the usual one! I had a vague idea about, how to go about, but to make the en-devour really successful, I referred the cookbooks and after referring the cookbooks I got more confused! There were one thousand and one recipes alone, under the subject. Some used Paneer, some did not, some used baking soda, while some, baking powder, [what's the difference ?]. Proportions of the ingredients to be added to Khawa, too changed drastically, from negligible to practically more than 50%. I decided to use my instincts and went ahead.

All-purpose flour I concluded must be as a binder, so has to be used meagerly, while semolina gives the Gulabjam that luscious grainy consistency, so has to be little liberal. Yes, at this juncture I have to tell you that I don't go by absolute measures. It's too mechanical, food has to have 'Life' in it! I decided to put a pinch of baking powder. Kneaded soft semi creamy dough with milk. And the crux of the matter! Let it be little flowy, this consistency makes Gulabjam absolutely spongy but, big big but, if it's too flowy the batter will spread in the oil so, make the balls and refrigerate for 30 minutes or so before you fry them in oil on low medium heat, which too is most important because they should turn golden gradually on low flame otherwise the crust is black and the core remains uncooked. Syrup too throws tantrums if not made properly. If too much of water, Gulabjams taste lacklustre and too thick a syrup does not sip in and you end up with hard balls!

Though my first attempt was victorious subsequent attempts bombed miserably. And my pride came crashing down. I felt I won't be able to make them so perfectly again. The second attempt was not less than a horror film. Khawa by that time, had gone stale. And I used baking soda in place of powder. As soon as the balls were in the oil, they refused to stay together and spread all over the wok! I was flabbergasted. Did not know what to do. To reduce the percentage of soda I added more flour and the effect at the outset looked acceptable. Balls floated well in oil, did not break but once in the syrup, they refused to budge. Even after soaking them for hours, syrup simply could not penetrate and they became tough nuts to crack! Could not dare to offer them to anybody, stealthily I finished them off over the days, maybe weeks!

Tried using milk powder in place of Khawa. To get good Khawa in our part of Mumbai is like getting a blue rose ! The recipe was good, edible, tasted good but the milk powder did not give up its characteristic flavour. So it was not the real thing!  Then I came upon a novel way to make Khawa at home. Of course, the source was network! Mix milk powder, full cream, milk and clarified butter in a pan and boil it, stirring all the time, till it solidifies into creamy Khawa. I assure you it tastes equally good.

The rest was as usual.

If Khawa is 5 parts, add two parts of semolina, one part of all-purpose flour, a pinch [ about 5 gms], not more than that at all, of baking soda, as the baking powder has a shelf life and after a time it loses it verve and most important, a teaspoonful of lemon juice! The reaction between the acid of the lemon and bicarb soda releases carbon dioxide and that makes your Gulabjam most fluffy and spongy! As said before resting in the fridge for 30 minutes or so make Gulabjam perfect. Try them I now have mastered the art! Come any time home, I am in need of guinea pigs !!!

Love: Myriads of Shades

To all those Love Lorn Souls
I am not a good reader. I prefer not to be. I was a voracious reader in my school days and teens but when I graduated into intellectual adult world I realized that it corrupts your thinking process and you start mouthing somebody else's thoughts. So I stopped, but not altogether. But you can not get away with somethings that you cherished as a youth. These words by Gulzar lingered so long that they etched a niche on my being.

             'I have seen [ smelt ] the fragrance of those eyes,

              Don't spoil it by alleging  relations,

              It's a realization to be felt only by your being

              Don't call it by any other name,

              Let love be love !'

Love, a many splendored thing. Or is it? It always defies the definition. What exactly it is! Is it profound feeling, an emotion felt for someone from within or just a passing phase of mind or age that vanishes in a fleeting second as the time matures. Does it really evolve over the years just by sharing the lives or the ones who are in,  plainly get habituated to each other! I don't know, I really don't know.

The word is so oft-repeated that I feel over the years it has lost its shine especially in today's youth. Nowadays they fall in love at the drop of hat but fall out of it, equally fast ! Breakups too are celebrated with full gusto! I won't call it lust but infatuation, definitely yes. Maybe play of Hormones taking the front seat, And naturally as they wane, the feeling fades too! In my generation it was for keeps, it was endeared, nurtured and it was vowed to walk into the sunset together. I have my own doubts about how many of them really walked with content and not because, it is ought to be done, so it is done!

Love at all other levels connotes totally different vibes. The Sense of longing along with belonging taking the upper crust! The human mind plays so many tricks that many a time it acts schizophrenic. It wants to belong but without getting assimilated totally! Paradoxical to say the least! That sense of self-preservation, [ego ?] transcends all the relations, including love. And so it boils down to, if you love yourself at the outset,  you may be in a position to share. Maybe!

The Indian concept of love always went through spiritualism. 'Oneness' in totality! Not two but one! Two different individuals, born differently, brought up differently, belonging to different genders, with different thinking base are expected to be or at least should try to be  'One', only because they are tied together under one pretext or the other, call it love, marriage, friendship or any near relation, say a mother and her children, siblings or even the artificially carved out concept called, the 'Nation', whatever! How it is possible, I dare not think, it's totally insane! In the end, it becomes so mushy that one feels 'Ugh'!

And Love does not come alone. It carries along with it, the baggage of similarly hollow prepositions! Sacrifice, taking the top seat. Should we call it vanity, just to pass the bar you are ready to forego with your ultimate, your being! Self! In today's times, it hardly seems possible even probable but we are fed with anecdotes after anecdotes of so-called 'Sacrifice for Love' till ad nauseum !

At one level there is every ground to think that the hyped connotation is coined by the bookworms! Our writers, mostly poets !! First Love for the first time! Sorry? Why not the first love for the third time or is there forth love the second time, for a change ?! The one who writes thus is always is in his 80s, who longs for the youth but the dentures do not allow even, to utter the word 'Love' properly! The boy or the girl who are in love, really in love for the first time, do not even realize that ' This is it !' Ask me !!
Be honest with yourself and ask, 'Have you found love, true love in any of your relationships'. No ifs and buts. And no par lances! We all run after that elusive foundation, Love throughout our life that is ultimately reduced into a futile chase to reach the other end of the rainbow !

Yes, it does give you positivity, both the word and the feeling, unfortunately, it does not last long. For perseverance in life, one requires so many other things to move on, So move on!

Padmaavat

 I am not/ was never fond of history. History is for somebody who loves to live in the past and abhors what's happening in the present. I always want everybody to concentrate on the present because the future gets shaped by it and the history gets laid down. So when so much hoopla was going on about Padmaavat; I at one level was amused and other, felt irritated. So much energy, so much material was spent on something that was 'Past', its occurrence itself, nobody is absolutely sure of. In spite of all these big questions in mind I went to see 'Padmavaat' with a clean slate, and I loved what unfolded on the Imax 3 D screen in front of me, that not only did tell the story of courage, integrity, grit, lust but above the all the inner beauty of a really beautiful queen of Mewad, Rani Padmavati, also known as Rani Padmini.

I really did not understand after seeing this version, to what really the objection was! The valour, the spirit, the strength and the values along with the ego of Rajputs comes out so vividly that I could not see any reason not to like it. The story, well may be based on a ballad by some Muslim poet,[ Malik Mohammad Jayasi], but in essence, it very well could be a depiction of those times as there are ample citations in the contemporary history about the exploits of Sultan Al-ud-din Khilji, and so why Mewad be the exception to that! 

I don't understand why the zealots do not like to see their icons as a common person in flesh and blood like you and me! All the Marathi historians too committed the same mistake. They liked to believe that all these greater than life heroes did not have normal life beyond the sword and the wars! How would they have reacted when they did not like the recipe served, or when they had a mildly upset stomach? Did they discuss all the time, the war and the political strategies within the confines of their bedroom when alone with the wife! Or did they all the time speak with that [? put on] vigour which in day to day life seems absurd! Novels after novels, play after plays were presented in the format, that ultimately it started getting stupid! 
In the same vein, why Rani Padmaavati should not be happy by doing a few steps of 'Ghoomar' in the confines of her domain along with her friends! They were not that old then [in those times] when were married off! And I don't think Mr Bhansali has crossed any limit of decency while picturizing this song! Not a single vulgar move or gesture, that's the hallmark of Bollywood! Deepika too, does justice to the 'Ghoomar' fully, by not imbibing on her part any mood or expression, not befitting the queen! Her mannerisms at times are mischievous but apt for any lady in that age, totally in love with her beloved! If at all one has to raise any objection[ In my opinion, senseless, objection for the sake of objection ], it is to this number.  But as said earlier why Rani should not have her own private pleasures in, as simple thing as doing traditional Mewad dance!

The only jarring thing was outdoor sets. They look too synthetic! Indoors, our craftsmen are masters in erecting the royal magnificence! 

Ranveer Singh scores only because the part is extremely loud and full with insane regalia. Shahid, on the contrary, is restrained but has much less to do than look decent royal Rajput! The one who looks every inch a beautiful but humane and regal queen of Mewad is, Deepika Padukone. She has filled the part with so many nuances that you stand for her in ovation! As a person too she seems to have her head firmly on her shoulders when she retorted to morons by simply saying' Take the picture in totality with reference to the context'

So true! How can you force today's values on the happenings of the past? Rather than accepting the sex slavery of Al-ud-din Khilji for her and of soldiers for her kith, kin and friends the decision of Jouhar was the only option as it was the order of the day! To drag it down to the vaginal level is not only inhuman and biased but plainly moronically stupid. In short, the pig head did not understand the essence of dignity, honour and respect! Some fool categorized the whole junk being definitely partial to Nay speakers! To everybody its own! 

For me, it was an experience worth a watch and I may say, it's the best from Mr Bhansali so far!

Sundarbans

Deep down inside I, basically am a wanderer, so do not like to be tied down to watertight itinerary. And Sundarban is just for people like me. It topples your cart at the first go. 

It so happened that kids were having Republic Day holidays, so the search for sites near Kolkatta, which could be covered up within 2-3 days, was done. It gave very few results. Darjeeling was vetoed out even without giving it due consideration,  as it was impossible 'To Do' it, in stipulated time. My son is a great fan of wildlife so it was zeroed down to 'Sundarban' for its galore of wildlife. Notable among-st it was the attraction for famous 'Royal Bengal' tiger.

Initially, my opinion about the nomenclature was, 'Another pompous arrogance' of Bengalis, as they always put themselves above the rest, for being [ or they assume ] more 'Articulate, Cultured and dignified !' 'Bhadra Lok'! In other words, 'Snob'? But it turned out that 'Royal Bengal Tiger' is really class apart in the species for a variety of reasons. More about it later.

As everybody knows, 'Sundarban' is situated on the marshy delta, created by the confluence of three major rivers of North India and Bangla Desh. Ganga [ Ganges, Padma ], Meghana [ Mostly from Bangla Desh] and last but definitely not the least, Brahmaputra. In fact, this marshy, water-laden topography starts from Kolkatta itself. Kolkatta has water bodies all over. Maybe, every 500 meters, either there is a small pond or a big lake. It goes from small canals to rivulets, to at times big rivers! [ So The abundance of mosquitoes and high incidence of Malaria !]. Water accompanies you all the way to 'Sundarban' because there are not less than 100s of rivers in Sundarban alone! I don't know or can't say specifically, but it seems that maybe, Bengalis are averse to name ' Ganga'. Right from their own Hooghly, which other than Kolkattans consider being the continuation of Ganga, none of the rivers from the area has the suffix 'Ganga, like we have here, in this part of India, say 'Panchganga. Vainganga Dakshin Ganga' and so on! 

It's a short journey of around 100 km only but takes longer time than expected, even though it's a state highway, SH No. 3. It has only two lanes and passes through many densely populated towns and villages. The road journey ends at Godkhali Ferry Jetty as there are no roads beyond and one has to travel in a boat! 

And here the itinerary took a spin downwards! Due to the extended weekend, the roads were jam-packed with holidaymakers. Our tour operator alone had 5 buses full of tourists! We reached Godkhali 90 minutes late due to frequent traffic jams! As there were no prior arrangements for who would ride which boat,  chaos ruled the roost on the wharf! And I realized that for a full throat-ed quarrel, language is secondary because when fought with full volume, all the verbal duels sound same and Bengali does not lag behind!

One funny thing has to be mentioned! Once off the jetty, most of the boats anchor midstream! Mid steam in capitals! It's to segregate the tourists according to their hotel reservations!  So we were asked to jump from one boat to another, that carried other travellers to our hotel! The ordeal did not end but continued for three more hours. As per the brochure, the boat ride was to be of only for an hour or so but our boatman had decided to have a race with a man walking on the banks, in a reverse way, "Who would be slower!" When confronted, the speed increased but did not overtake the man on the bank! By the time we reached 'Sajnekhali Pakhiralay Sanctuary,' it was dark, as dusk descends earlier on the east Indian horizons! There was 'No Lunch',  only biscuits were served in a journey of 5 to 6 hours since breakfast, naturally, the tempers rose, but well,  if you don't want to pay heed, you don't! Our pleas fell on deaf ears.

Everybody whom we had met a day earlier, when told, that, 'We would be visiting the  Sundarban', had said, ' Oh good, but you won't sight the Tiger !'

And the next day it was vastly apparent that the prophecy was going to be true! There were more than 10s of thousands, eager Tiger watchers waiting on the jetty for their chance! Reminded me of Bhushi dam revellers, with  15th August holiday falling on Saturdays!

To have the glimpse of the royal cat, your watertight itinerary is useless. You have to stay put for hours just to have the whiff. And with those thousands, it was well nigh, next to impossible!

Why Sundarban Tiger is Royal? Straight from the mouth of the guide. They are taller,  better looking with shining colour and bright stripes, stronger and much more ferocious among-st the species. And they drink salt water! Probably that's the reason for their being different! They can swim for miles crossing the river, to catch the easy prey from nearby human habitations. There are nearly 30 or more human deaths every year by tiger attacks!

The way you traverse the jungle terrains in a jeep, here you ride a boat. The only difference is, open Jeep hardly accommodates 5 to 6 people, here boat was teeming with people, ours had more than 35! Thus there was a fat chance to sight the tiger. We decided to do away with few spotted dears here and few wild boars there! The exception was a lazy croc resting on the mud bank listlessly!

Birds! Plenty lost the count.! Kingfisher soothed the eyes while this sparrow-like Robin took away the heart with its cuteness!

The biggest bird of the area a type of heron was just a sight to look at!

It abounds in flora and fauna. The mangroves having more than one species was news to me. In Mumbai we have only one type of plants in mangroves, maybe a few more but in Sundarbans there are more than 20 species of them with their breathing roots jutting out of the muddy soil to seek oxygen. Sundari plants from which the jungle gets its name abound in number! The jungle does not have many tall trees the way normal jungles have. The average height of trees here does not rise above the bush level.

What is breathtaking in Sundarbans, is the sight of waters! At one point there is a confluence of FIVE rivers! Prominent amongst them are Bidya and Matla. Reminded me of dialogue by Vidya Balan from 'Kahani' .' Vidya, Vidya, not Bidya'. But here, it's definitely 'Bidya'! Though the sea, Bay of Bengal, is far away, the vastness of the water body, reminds you of the sea, that takes your breath away!

We visited three spots via boat but it was disappointing due to maddening crowds. Maybe our timing was wrong but if you have more than enough time on the hand and patience to stay a put, Royal Bengal tiger should be a treat to the eyes.

Disillusioned as we were, we cut our trip short by a day and returned to Kolkatta earlier and it was a wise decision, We could spend quality time with our kids that was much more precious than the sight of Royal Bengal Tiger!