ERAVIKULAM NATIONAL PARK

In 2006, I witnessed it, one of Nature's breath-taking phenomenona.

Elephas maximus indicus, Asian elephant, Annamalai range. — at Annamalai National Park.

I was at Eravikulam National Park, near Munnar. It is home to a rare, endangered species, the Nilgiri tahr. When I went there, an additional surprise was in store. A rare treat, reserved for the fortunate few.


We arrived at about ten o'clock, parked our car and walked through the gate, after buying our entry tickets. There was a fairly large crowd, but entry is restricted to what was once a private game reserve.

Rhesus macaque, Udumalpet.

We climbed several hundred metres up the rocks, until we reached the tree-line.


A magnificent view presented itself. The rain-dappled Nilgiris, their gentle slopes shimmering in rainbow-draped

Spathodea campanulata, 'Nandi Flame'.

skies. The shola forests, in different shades of green. The view was breath-taking.


Then we saw them. Grazing in groups, further up, behind the barriers, to keep tourists away from them. Kids with ewes. Rams, with their chocolate-brown hair, resting on rocky overhangs.

The Nilgiri tahr is a rare, endangered species. It is the state animal of Tamil Nadu, but fewer than 2,500 survive. Most of them are in Eravikulam. They are not actually related to tahrs, but a kind of sheep. Their closest genetic cousins are to be found in the mountains of Chile.

Nilgiri Tahr, Eravikulam. — at Eravikulam National Park.

We walked further up a path and were met with another breath-taking sight. A meadow carpeted by blooming neelakurinji shrubs. The violet-blue blossoms had covered the entire vista, far into the distance. The Nilgiris had truly turned blue. It was a sight to behold.


The neelakurinji shrubs flower once in 12 years, in a process called masting, in which all the flowers in a group of plants seed at the same time, and then die. Once, the neelakurinji used to carpet whole areas of the western and eastern ghats. Nowadays, the growth in human population has put an end to that.
The next flowering of the neelakurinji will be in 2018.

Strobilanthes kunthiana

Neelakurinji

Text and photos by Shankar A. Narayan

DEVIKULAM - SITA'S BATHING POOL - AND THE HIGHEST TEA GARDEN IN THE WORLD - KOLUKKUMALAI

CAMP AT SURYANELLI
There is a gentle knock on the door. "May I come in, Sir?" Mohan Babu, my Jeeves, glides in with chhota haazri. Bed-coffee and a newspaper. I sit up on the four-poster bed, as he opens the curtains. A silvery haze streams in through the French windows. It's misty outside, the dew still fresh on the green lawns. I am at Suryanelli, in a colonial bungalow, that once housed a planter and perhaps his family. The Scottish planters are long gone, but their customs linger on. Hence, the bed coffee. My friend and I have the bungalow all to ourselves. It is typical English cottage, built in stone, with a sloping tin roof. Fire-places, rattan furniture and ebony tables. Straight out of a Merchant-Ivory movie. We have Mohan Babu, a cook, a charlady, and a gardener, who keeps himself busy, tending to the emerald-green lawn and the flower-beds outside. There have been some changes though. The grates in the fireplaces are no longer warm. On the walls are reproductions of Ravi Varma's masterpieces, and faux art on the mantelpieces. There is a television set in the living room. But the mahagony floors and the egg-white walls give it all away. This place was once the Manager's bungalow.


Munnar lies 200 metres below and about 24 kilometres away. We drove there first from Cochin, a long drive. The scenary really started to reveal itself when we crossed Adimalai and the climb began, up through the Western Ghats. As we climbed higher and higher, the vistas began to open themselves. Sheer drops and vast acres of tea bushes. Rolling patches of mist and short, sharp bursts of rain. Tea flourishes best in the higher elevations, the higher the better. The Kannan Devan Hills are perfectly suited to plantations of all kinds. Brtitish Reaident Munro realised that when he visited the area in the 1870s. It was then virgin forest and royal land. He talked to the Maharaja and got the whole tract on lease for 3000 rupees a year. The hills were set to be transformed.

KOLUKKUMALAI -THE HIGHEST TEA GARDEN IN THE WORLD
Kolukkumalai is reached via a steep climb, partly on a dirt track in a Jeep. At the top of the mountain, one gets a spectacular view of the plains which once used to be in Madras Presidency. Today, it is in Theni district of Tamil Nadu. Yes, we have crossed the border. From our viewing point, we can see the sun rising reluctantly into the sky. It's about eight o'clock, but the air is cool and bracing. The mist is rolling in through the eucalyptus trees and we watch the sky gradually appear out of the clouds. On a clear day, one can see the hills of Kodaikanal from where we are, but not today.

We turn back and arrive at the gates of the tea factory at a little after nine a.m. Kolukkumalai Tea Factory is the highest orthodox tea factory in the world. It makes organic teas in GOP and FGOP grades and is at about 2100 metres above sea level. The production of orthodox tea is a complex, delicate process, involving several steps, using both manual labour and machines. We get a tour of the factory and are allowed to watch the taster at work.


The teas are first withered in large troughs, for 15-20 hours. Then they are rolles and cut by machine. In earlier times, these machines were hand operated. This relases their oils and aromas. Next, they are oxidized in rooms where the temperature and humidity is carefully controlled. The leaves turn dark, trapping their aromas within. They are then sent through a furnace, on a belt, to remove excess moisture. Further processes take place to remove fibre and sort them through sieves, before they are packed. Orthodox teas are prized for their aroma and distinctive flavours. The soil and climate of each garden makes its tea special. Kolukkumalai has been processing tea for 85 years.


DEVIKULAM -SITA'S BATHING POND
The Kannan Devan Hills are full of places of beauty. Reserve forests dot the areas around Munnar. Kerala's first hydo-electric dam was built in the area. There are breath-taking waterfalls and hiking trails. A couple of days after we visited Kolukkumalai, we drove back a few kilometres in the direction of Devikulam.
Legend has it, that Sita bathed in this pristine lake. Its cool, crystal-clear waters are said to have medicinal properties. The area around it is covered by trees and picnic spots. A truly serene place, and a link to our mythical past.

Text: Shankar A. Narayan Photos:National Geographic (Sunrise over Kolukkumalai), 4Photos and Tea Garden Hotel.

TOY TOWN - CHANNAPATNA - GOMBEGALA OORU - INDIA CLOSE UP

It is a small place. More a village than a town. The streets are neat and lined by small, colourfully painted houses with thatched roofs. Outside one, an elderly lady is busy applying lacquer to a small wooden bird. She has already finished a whole flock and has a few more to finish. Lalithamma is 63 and has been making making toys since she married and moved to her husband's home as a young girl. Her father-in-law made toys. So do her sons. 

We are in Channapatna, 60 kms. from Bengaluru, on the road to Mysore. If you ever had a hand-made, lacquered, wooden toy as a child, chances are it was from Channapatna.Toy trains. Colourful birds and animals. Game sets. Your childhood abacus. The chettiar couple your mother takes out for her bommakolu each navaratri. The ultra-chic candle-stands you just picked up from FabIndia. They are all from Channapatna.

Michelle Obama picked up Channapatna's signature wares during her trip to India. Karnataka's Republic Day float on Rajpath was themed on the artists of Gombegala Ooru - Toy town.


No one knows how exactly this village took to making toys. One story goes that Tipu Sultan brought carvers from Persia, who passed on their skills to the locals. They haven't looked back since.
Some say, wrongly, that the carvers of Channapatna use ivory wood to make their toys. Ivory wood is a species of palm that grows in latin America. Another claim is that the toys are made out of the wood of a species called wrightia tinctoria. This is a shrub, with blue flowers belonging to the indigo family. What is true, is that the artisans of Chennapatna use soft, white wood to make their toys.


The wood is shaped using hand-held lathes and files, then smoothened into different shapes. The work is done mostly in small workshops, employing a handful of artisans. In recent years, larger units, with
mechanical lathes have been set up, but the work is still labour-intensive.


Hundreds of men and women are engaged in lacquering the toys by hand. Natural gum is first applied, followed by pain-staking painting using lacquer mixed with natural dyes. The toys from Channapatna are guaranteed to be non-toxic and safe for children. They are the only ones in India to be registered with the WTO with a Geographical Indication. Along with Darjeeling Tea.



Text by Shankar A. Narayan Photos: Ministry of HRD, Government of India

MORADABAD - HOME OF BRASSWARE - INDIA CLOSE UP

A cycle-rickshaw ride from Katghar station iies the town of Moradabad, named after prince Murad Baksh. He was Mumtaz Mahal's youngest son. He didn't live to see Moradabad flourish. He was executed by his brother Alamgir in Gwalior. 




The artisans of Moradabad though, continued to smelt, pour, mould, hammer and shape away. Their exquisite paandaans and taantis began to gain fame in noble households as well as well as among the common man.. Their work began to reach the outside world, as Arab traders carried their wares to Oman, and beyond, as far as the Red Sea and to Egypt. Moradabadi brassware became synonymous with graceful lines and intricately engraved designs.

An entire caste, the dhaliyas, are engaged in casting the metal. In thousands of workshops, sheet-metal is turned into beautifully shaped and artfully engraved objects. A wooden mallet and pointed chisel are used to engrave designs from memory, a process called kalamkari.







The town churns out crores of brass objects each year, and 40% of our metal handicrafts are exported from this region.


The man who founded the town, Rustam Khan, before it became Moradabad, has given it its Jama

Masjid, a fine example of medieval architecture.




Text: Shankar A. Narayan Photos: Robin Wyatt Vision and An Enclycopaedia of Indian Handicrafts

Ch. 7 - A PASSAGE TO CALCUTTA - MAKING ROOM - Palghat Tales

I     It was late in the afternoon when the surgeons finished and Dorai was wheeled out of the Operation Room. He was still under anaesthesia, and Thangam, started weeping again, as the nurses marshalled him into the ward. The wait and had been long and exhausting. This was his third operation, and it lasted much longer than the previous ones, but Dr. Karmakar had assured her that he had done it many times, and it would be the last one.  Vaithy was stoic, and held her hand, as they sat by his bed, while the ward boy fetched tea for them.

The Statesman 25, June, 1975

A couple of months later, Vaithy was glancing at The Statesman in the Patiala Peg bar at the Hotel Imperial in New Delhi. The headlines were all about the fallout from a verdict by a court in Allahabad. The next day, he woke up to hear the news of the Emergency on the radio. Soon after, he received a call from MD, who asked him to drop all further meetings and take the first available flight back to Calcutta. He sounded worried.

Well home, there were hurried meetings in the office. The auditor and legal advisor was called in for consultations. MD instructed some files to be destroyed, and asked Vaithy about the warehouses in Jabalpore and Faridabad. By now the grapewine was abuzz. The government was cracking down on trade-union leaders and opposition politicians. Some traders in Burrabazar [i] had downed shutters. The sub-inspector and constable arrived one morning, just as Vaithy was about to ring his contact in the Income Tax office – for the third time. The policeman was polite. He asked MD and Vaithy to follow them in their own car to Lalbazar.

The inspector at Lalbazar sounded weary and offered tea. “Emergency, we have to follow orders. Very bad times. Please understand. We are arresting here-there-everywhere.” He threw his hands up in the air. “What can I do? I have got warrant from Customs & Excise. Hoarding cement is very serious. I have documents, we have raided your godown.” He tapped his fingers on the file before him. “Only for few days.”  They were taken to Alipore Jail. After three weeks, they were told to leave. There was no ceremony about it. They were never produced in front of a magistrate.

Alipore Central Jail

The experience changed him. Thangam noticed that he would sleep less, and become increasingly lost in thought. During the weeks he was in Alipore, she was allowed to visit him daily, to bring him home-cooked food, newspapers and fresh sheets. He and MD were separated, and he shared his cell with three students who had been arrested for distributing pamphlets. They told him about the refugees who were still streaming in from Bangladesh, four years after the War had ended. In the coming years, Vaithy would band together with a group of sympathisers and build shelters for these needy souls. The impetus for that would come from a chance encounter.

II       The city had been changing for many years now. Gariahat and the pavements around Chowringhee  became crowded with hawkers.  Slums sprouted along the railway line in Dhakuria, and places like Patuli and Chetla saw large numbers of squatters. Jute mills were being closed down one after the other, and Vaithy’s order book in the state dried up. It was a good thing that the firm had had the foresight to establish itself further afield in the years before.

Gariahat- Rashbehari Avenue Crossing

One evening, Vaithy was being measured for a new suit by Singh at Paris Tailors in New Market, when the conversation turned to the state of affairs plaguing the city. Singh mentioned that a woman and child were sleeping rough outside his shop for the past several weeks. He would help them with food sometimes; they would then disappear, only to return.  The week after, when Vaithy returned for his trial, he found the woman and her daughter, not more than four or five years old, huddled under the lamp in front of the shop. On inquiring, he learnt that she was from Sagardari. She had fled from her village, along with her husband, who had died along the way. The daughter Rehana was five, but looked younger.

Paris Tailors, New Market

Vaithy was much disturbed when he reached home that evening. He told Thangam about meeting the girl and her mother.  What could they do? They couldn’t very well take vagrants into the house. His mind kept going back to the child’s face over the next few days, her face haunting him. He kept thinking that she was about the same age as the child he had lost. When he went back to Singh’s to pick up his finished suit, he found they were still there. This time he did not hesitate, his heart pounding. He took them home and told them to wait as he went upstairs and told Thangam. They decided to bed them down in the garage for the night. In the morning, he asked Nandu if he could find accommodation for them in Kalighat. It was a few weeks before a tenement would be found, and they could be moved. In the years to come, Vaithy would salvage their lives, making sure Rehana went to school. Her mother would eventually find a job as a seamstress, and with Vaithy’s help, make ends meet.

Rehana and her mother

III   They led busy lives. There would be no respite for Thangam in the coming years, as she was given extra classes to teach. Between their activities at the temple, Vaithy’s  heavy burdens at work and his active association with several causes, they would find themselves increasingly stretched for time at home. Nandu was now not only the house-keeper, he was becoming invaluable in the kitchen as well.

Meena was now studying Economics at University and Chuppan would graduate within the year and enter medical college. Kannan would leave for Carnegie Mellon later in the year. His departure was not unexpected, but it left a void in their midst that was difficult to reconcile with. When he had left to study for the first time, he would come home regularly during breaks. Now it would become a thing of the past.

On occasional Sundays, they would take time out to attend morning shows at Menoka cinema. It was their only chance to see the latest Tamil movies. Vaithy was an early riser, but it was still a struggle to finish the chores, eat a hasty breakfast and rush to reach the theatre before the nine a.m. start. Sometimes, the children would want to come along. It was not always for the best. Thangam would squirm as she sat beside Dorai, watching the opening scenes of Sila Nerangalil Sila Manithargal [ii], fidgeting as the character played by Lakshmi has an encounter in a stranger’s car. Thangam had wanted to see the film after hearing about it from a colleague, and finding out that it was the story of a young Brahmin girl.

Actress Lakshmi in the film Sila Nerangalil Sila Manithargal

The year Mother Teresa was awarded the Nobel Prize, Vaithy and his friends registered the Calcutta Seva Sangh (CSS) with MD’s father as founding Chairman. In the years to come, CSS would hold out a helping hand to the city’s indigent and earn the gratitude of many in its teeming bastis. [iii]

Mother Teresa accepting her Nobel Peace Prize

Text by: Shankar A. Narayan Photo credits: The Telegraph, Raghu Rai, Sean McLain and The Nobel Institute.

---

[i] One of Calcutta’s largest wholesale commodity markets.

[ii] A Tamil film directed by A. Bhimsingh, based on the same-titled novel by Jayakanthan, starring Lakshmi, Sreekanth and Nagesh. It became the first Tamil film to feature a Best Actress National Award winning performance, won by Lakshmi for her portrayal of the lead character Ganga.

[iii] Slums.

Ch 6 A PASSAGE TO CALCUTTA – NEW HORIZONS - Palghat Tales

                             I     Thangam returned home after seeing Vaithy off. It was to be the first of his many visits abroad.  A few years earlier, a Pan Am flight had crashed while landing at Dum Dum Airport, killing several persons, and she was apprehensive.  On his way back, Vaithy stopped over in London, and met his paternal uncle and his family for the first time. It was a memorable meeting for him, having grown up with his Periappa’s family and having had virtually no contact with his extended family. 

Vaithy's uncle (second from left, seated) and his family.

There were other visitors too. One of Thangam’s cousins, Sundararajan joined Vaithy’s firm. He brought his young family along, and Thangam soon became very attached to them. He had three young children, and Chuppam and Dorai found new play-mates.

That winter, Vaithy took them all to Digha, driving his family in their newly-acquired, used Ambassador Mark II [i] Sundararajan and his family joined them by bus and they spent a week together, the children frolicking on the beach. Even Vaithy took to the waves, swimming even though the water was a bone-chilling twenty degrees. It reminded him of the days when he would swim in the village pond. It was their first holiday outside Palghat, and it would set the tone for later visits.

Sundararajan and his family.

P. Lal

It was around this time that Vaithy was introduced to a young writer at Calcutta Club. One day, he asked Vaithy if he would like to meet his mentor. It was the beginning of a close relationship with P. Lal,[ii] who was then busy transcreating the Mahabharata and publishing fascicules of them. Vaithy became fascinated, and took on the job of co-ordinating with the saree weavers whose creations adorned the jackets of the hand-set, hand-bound masterpieces.

After Dorai turned ten, Thangam began attending City College,[iii]  to study for her B.A. in Philosophy.  She had taken her Matric and Inter exams in previous years, but had to interrupt her studies, to take care of the family. The time had now come to complete them, and Vaithy encouraged her. They hired a full-time Oriya house-keeper. Nandu  had been in the employ of Mr. Kapoor, and would remain with them for many years.

                                    II    One day, Thangam returned home from work, feeling dizzy. She sent for some aspirin, but her pain worsened. It was Nandu’s day off, and she went into the kitchen to make some tea. There, she collapsed, bleeding profusely. When she came to, she was lying on the sofa, and Mrs. Pahadi from the first floor was mopping her brow with a cold towel. She looked calm. “I have told Mr. Pahadi to ring your husband, the door was open, so when Dorai came home, he found you. The children are all downstrairs, don’t worry. Please don’t move. Do you want some water?”

Vaithy was in Tribeni, and came home late in the evening, and the office had been unable to reach him. He was met by Nandu and Mrs. Pahadi. “Mr. Pahadi could not wait any more. He called Dr. Biswas and he rang the nursing home and they sent an ambulance.”

When Vaithy reached the nursing home, he was ushered into the waiting surgeon’s room, who was visibly irritated. “What is your name? Yes, yes! Why are you coming so late? Is this chiriakhana [iv] Your wife was in emergency, emergency! We had to operate. Emergency!  First you come late, then you want to make case on nursing home? Yes? But, she is all right. We had to make emergency scraping and make blood transfer, but congratulation, mister, we saved the other child. You are becoming father again. How many children? Good, good. Today, she will stay here. Tomorrow morning, doctor will come for check-up and decide. Please sign the form for operation at reception.”

The child that was born to them was premature, and died a few hours after she gave birth. Thangam’s intuition had turned out to be correct. She would not be a mother again. She plunged head-long back into her studies.

                                                        III    Kannan left to study in Kharagpur that year, Papa would go to Pune, to become a doctor a couple of years later. Thangam graduated with Honours. She discussed applying for a teaching job with Vaithy, and changed her mind. Instead, she gave private tuitions. Within a year, she was offered a job as a substitute teacher, and she accepted. For the next ten years, she would teach, while she juggled her duties as a wife and mother.

A year later, Vaithy met Shireen Sonawalla when he went to attend a week-end course for managers. She was an officer at the bank where his firm had their main accounts. She was intelligent, had a sense of humour, and shared his interest in books. In the coming years, their intimacy would grow, and Vaithy would see her as a source of solace and encouragement.

Meena at her arangetram.

Chuppam at her arangetram.

Later in the year, on a misty winter evening, Vaithy arranged the arangetram[v]  of Meena and Chuppam . The proceedings at a packed Pavilion Hall l[vi] were delayed for a few minutes, after Chuppam caught stage fright, and had to be coaxed on to the stage. Vaithy had invited all their friends, and the chief guest was the Commissioner of Excise and Customs.  The girls were a bit unsure during the shabdam [vii] and varnam[viii] stages of the concert, but by the time they were into the thillana,[ix] the audience was spell-bound, and it all ended in a rousing ovation.

Text by: Shankar A. Narayan Photo credits:  Prem Kumar, Karlos Deville, Rosalin Solomon, Ashwini Priyanka, Kumari Aparna and Fotki.

---

• [i] The Ambassador Mark II was introduced in 1962. It featured a totally redesigned grill, interior and dash-board.
• [ii] P. Lal started Writers’ Workshop in 1958. He began transcreating the epic Mahabharata in the 1970s, and by the time he died, he had published all 100,000 verses, the most complete in any language.
• [iii] Sivanath Sastri College was established in 1961 as the South City campus of City College, and is dedicated to women’s education.
• [iv] Zoo.
• [v] The first public performance by a Bharatanatyam dancer. A test for the guru and the disciple.
• [vi] The Pavilion Hall auditorium at the Rabindra Sarovar complex in south Calcutta.
• [vii] A Bharatanatya item which includes both nrttya (dance) and abhinaya (facial expressions), but the abhinaya is restrained in the beginning, and only expressed gradually.
• [viii] In this item Bhratanatyam dancers are tested for their capacity to perform both abhinaya and nrttya. It includes many complex steps and expressions.
• [ix] Usually the last item in any Bharatanatyam performance.