Niranjan is a retired primary school teacher who was felicitated with the President’s award for his outstanding services. He received the award from then President KR Narayanan in 1999.
Niranjan can be spotted on the streets of Lalitpur city in Uttar Pradesh, removing polythene bags from canals | Express
Lucknow :
He seems to be in the grip of an obsession which he finds difficult to resist. Approaching 80, Rupnarayan Niranjan is unstoppable. His fetish for work not only inspires but also leaves one in awe.
Clad in shorts and a vest, Niranjan can be spotted on the streets of Lalitpur city in Bundelkhand region of Uttar Pradesh, mending a pothole, opening a blocked sewer or even clearing roads and canals by removing polythene bags.
The first impression one gets of the man is that of an ordinary labourer at work, but as soon as the interaction starts, that perception is shattered. His polished language and mannerism bring out the quintessential teacher in him. Niranjan is a retired primary school teacher who was felicitated with the President’s award for his outstanding services. He received the award from then President KR Narayanan in 1999.
But now, after retirement, he begins his day by setting out on his mission with a handcart, broom and shovel, looking for patches on roads that need repairs or streets that can do with some cleaning. The reason he gives for doing such work all day at his age is astonishing.
“As I retired as a primary school teacher, the government pays me pension which comes to `600-700 a day. Hence, it is incumbent on me to offer services in return to the taxpayers who bear the burden of my pension,” says Niranjan, adding that his daily work keeps him physically fit and mentally content. He spends his pension to get the roads repaired and arrange for logistics in the Lalitpur primary school.
After toiling for around five hours in the morning, Niranjan, who is a certified Ayurvedic doctor, treats patients free of cost at his residence in Chowkbagh.
For Niranjan, his father, who was the village head, was a source of inspiration. He grew up seeing him always active and concerned about keeping the village clean.
Niranjan, who shuns the limelight, was a reluctant awardee. When asked to complete the modalities for recommendation for the President’s award for his teaching services, he refused. The then education secretary, LK Pandey, had to visit him and convince him to do the required paperwork, which paved his way to Rashtrapati Bhavan on Teachers’ Day to receive the honour.
He took up the mission of repairing roads when he found that his students in Bazarra village primary school were reluctant to come to school because of the dilapidated roads.
Initially Niranjan requested the authorities to get the roads repaired, but when his pleas fell on deaf ears, he decided to do it himself.
With his own money, he got toilets constructed, an electricity connection provided and arranged for clean drinking water for students in the school.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> The Sunday Standard / by Namita Bajpai / September 23rd, 2018
This Indian city in north India is a mystical place of funeral pyres and bare-chested holy men, a city balancing ancient traditions and bumper-to-bumper traffic
Image Credit: Graham Crouch/New York Times
To most people, Varanasi is not a place, it’s an idea. A microcosm of India in all its myriad hues — timeless, exotic and full of promises. A mystic land where life and death are spiritual experiences, where funeral pyres line river banks, and saffron-clad, bare-chested holy men perform mysterious rituals that cannot be witnessed anywhere else on the earth.
True, Varanasi, also known as Benares, is all of these. But it is also much more. At a time when history is being rewritten to suit a singular narrative, the ghats of Varanasi stand as an oasis of mutual acceptance and harmonious living. Despite the fact that Kashi — another name for Varanasi — is considered to be the cradle of Hinduism, at the ghats, the River Ganga is maiyya (mother) to all, regardless of their faith.
The members of Varanasi’s large weaving community are made up both Hindus and Muslims and to them, the river is their guardian and protector. The ghats are where one can see Muslim families sitting right next to where a pooja (Hindu ritual worship) is happening, and performing sadka — offerings in the name of the divine. Setting free live fish into the Ganga is one such ritual, meant to protect person and property from evil because “where else do fish belong except with Ganga maiyya?” as a shy young man tells the Weekend Reivew. He and his father were releasing fish, brought in plastic bags, into the river.
At the ghats, individuals and communities from around the world co-exist as parts of a singular ecosystem. And if spirituality is about human experiences, then the ghats of Varanasi is where one can hope to find eternal bliss.
The first encounter with the city, however, can be anything but spiritual. The ‘highway’ that takes you from the airport to the city is narrow, bumpy and caked in dust. A taxi must weave its way past humans and cattle, as well as endless flow of four-, three- and two-wheeled vehicles in all sizes and shapes — and from every direction at once. ‘Lane’ and ‘safe distance’ are alien concepts here, and a self-respecting taxi merely brushes past everything around it with complete indifference.
“A lot of accidents occur, especially at night,” says Sunil Verma, an airport taxi driver. “Cattle roam free on the roads, and with not enough streetlights, we often end up running into them. And, believe me, that spells big trouble.”
An overhead ring road meant to significantly ease the traffic is under construction. At the moment, however, the massive concrete pillars that hold it up just add to the misery of the drivers. And as many of the drivers were traditionally farmers who had to turn to other professions for subsistence, they have a different set of woes to share, including interminable power-cuts and the unplanned urbanisation that has made farming unviable.
Closer to the city, roads become even more congested, and the last leg of the journey to the ghats has to be completed on foot, across broken pavements — again dodging humans and animals. But if one manages to look up from the path, ancient but beautiful buildings can be seen on either side of the road, mostly in various states of disrepair. Electric wires run overhead in hopeless tangles, with absolute disregard for human life below. For a city of more than one million and an endless inflow of pilgrims and tourists, the infrastructure is very poor. The city seems to have grown inward, like an ailing toenail, and if first-time visitors begin to doubt the wisdom of their choice, they cannot be blamed.
And then, one reaches the threshold that marks the beginning of the ghat. Stepping over the threshold is like crossing a portal and entering another world, one that is beyond anything that even a movie-and-literature-fuelled imagination could be prepared for. The Ganga is immense like a sea, with hundreds of similar-shaped wooden row boats undulating peacefully on her calm waters. Flocks of seagulls rise up and swoop down to circle the boats, their squawks mingling with the sound of brass bells ringing in the distance. The sheer beauty and grandeur takes your breath away
“The Ganga is our mother,” says Bhola majhi, one of the thousands whose lives are tied to the ghats. “We majhis (boatmen) have been ferrying passengers from the time of Pandavas,” he adds, referring to the legend of the Mahabharata that was supposed to have taken place thousands of years ago. “Taking pilgrims for ‘Kashi Darshan’ is not just our trade, it is our duty.”
But behind his smiling words are the dark shadows of an age-old caste system that binds communities to their traditional roles. The son of a majhi carries on with his father’s trade, just as the son of a Dom inherits from his ancestors the onus of cremating bodies on the ghat. “But I send all three of my children to school,” says majhi, “because I want to give them the opportunity that I did not get.”
From the boat on the Ganga, the view of the upper embankment with its long row of beautiful ochre-coloured buildings, each a remnant of a passing dynasty, is spectacular. Dasaswamedh Ghat, Munshi Ghat, Narad Ghat, Manmandir Ghat… there are 84 in total. But Harishchandra Ghat in the middle stands out for its dark and desolate appearance.
“They cremate bodies here, a practice since the days of King Harishchandra,” says Bhola majhi, narrating a story from the Mahabharata, of a virtuous ruler who fell into hard times and had to cremate bodies at the ghat to feed his family.
Life and death flourish together on the ghats, feeding off each other. According to Hindu beliefs, the soul of a person who dies in Kashi, or has their last rites performed here, attains liberation from the cycle of life and death. Dasaswamedh Ghat has a long row of wooden platforms to one side that await pilgrims who bathe in the Ganga and proceed to ensure the last rites for a family member or a loved one. Local priests perform these rituals for a fee.
Many elderly and terminally ill people travel from all parts of India to the ghats seeking a peaceful death. In fact, Varanasi has guest houses that cater exclusively to the dying, the most famous among them being Mukti Bhawan, where ‘guests’ are allowed weeks to die. If they do not oblige in the given time, they must leave. The bodies of the ones that die in Varanasi are cremated in one of the two ghats: Manikarnika or Harishchandra, with most of the cremations taking place in Manikarnika Ghat.
On a winter evening, the mere sight of Manikarnika Ghat from the Ganga is enough to stun a person to silence. In the gathering darkness, huge bonfires can be seen blazing, their flames and smoke reaching for the skies.
“Those are bodies, being burnt,” majhi points out casually. “At Manikarnika, cremation happens day and night.” It is hard for a visitor to suppress a shiver at the reality of death as seen here.
Until recently, Manikarnika Ghat had a gruesome reputation, as half-burnt bodies used to be dumped into the river to make space for others. Fortunately, the Clean Ganga Project which was kicked off in 2014 has put an end to that practice. The project, however, has not stopped large pipes from dumping effluent into the river, as can be seen at Harishchandra Ghat.
Religion is big business in Varanasi — in fact, the most lucrative of all. Home to more than 2,000 temples including the famous Kashi Viswanath near the ghats, Varanasi has exclusive temple guides who cut through lengthy queues and take visitors straight to the sanctum sanctorum — for a hefty fee — and a gullible pilgrim may part with more money than they had bargained for.
Most of the local population of Varanasi make their living from tourism as priests, tour guides, vendors, weavers, boatmen. Children even dress up as deities for tourists to take photographs — for a nominal fee. And dominating everyone with their sheer presence are the babas, the legendary holy men of the ghats, with their ash-smeared bodies and long, matted hair. While many of them are spiritual beings who live in their own separate worlds, there are those earthly enough to pose for photographs for a fee.
“How else can I subsist?” asks Dollar Baba, whose name is derived from the currency that most of his income comes in.
Many old houses near the ghats have been converted into home-stay facilities where visitors can rent rooms with basic amenities. Rani Pandey, whose house is near Dasaswmedh Ghat, rents out the rooms of her ancestral home at reasonable rates, while her brother Santhosh Pandey runs a restaurant on the ground floor. The amenities are barebones at best, owing to long power-cuts and constant occupation of rooms. However, these places not only provide cheap accommodation to visitors, they also offer a livelihood to a local population with little education or training. These men and women work as cooks, cleaners and handymen in these facilities, albeit for very low wages. Most of their earnings come from the tips they receive from guests.
Poverty here is seen in dirty streets and pathways, in sidewalks that spill over to fill narrow roads, and in the quiet desperation of people. It reflects too in the general inability of many to break out of caste-based roles or to question existing norms.
The situation is worse for the weaving community in Varanasi and its surroundings. Most of the weavers of the world-famous Benares silk, known for the beauty and fine quality of its weave and motifs, now live in abject poverty. The advent of imported mechanised looms have worsened their plight by offering cheaper products to customers.
Though education as a harbinger of change has taken its time to reach Varanasi, it is here to stay. Like Bhola majhi, there are many others who ensure that their children get educated. Lakshmi, a single mother and second-generation migrant from Tamil Nadu, says she will do anything to educate her daughter Bhoomika.
“I send her to a good school, and pay for private tuitions as well,” she says. “I don’t have the knowledge to clear her doubts, you see. She wants to be a teacher, and I’m going to make her one.”
Ever since her husband left her as a pregnant 17-year old, Lakshmi has been selling bead necklaces, bracelets and other accessories, most of which she herself makes and sells from her stall on the stone steps of the ghats.
“On a good day, I make up to a Rs1,000 (Dh58), but on most days, it is much less,” she says. “And there are days when I make nothing at all.” Yet, not only does she manage to keep Bhoomika in school, she also looks after her widowed mother. “Life is hard, but no one starves on the ghats. Ganga maiyya sees to that.”
The allure of Varanasi’s ghats seems to transcend not only religious beliefs, but also geographies, cultures and languages, bringing people from as far as Europe, Australia, the Americas, China and the Far East. Some, like Monique and Victor from the French Alps, find communication a real problem, but not enough to disenchant them.
“Of course, we will return,” says Monique. “We have to. There is something to this place.”
“How many days would it really take to get a feel of the city?” wonders Adam, a young artist from New York who has come to the ghats with his Japanese girlfriend. How many days indeed, to understand the dynamics and undercurrents of this ancient city?
“A lifetime is not enough,” says local Santhosh Panday. “But three or four days would be good.”
Mini S. Menon is a writer based in Dubai.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Culture> People / by Mini S Menon / Special to Weekend Review / April 25th, 2018
There are 90 bands based in Kabirpur, UP. Changing wedding trends and noise norms are seeing demand for their music dip. ‘We can’t sleep at night thinking of what will happen,’ says an elder.
You’re as likely to have a DJ at your wedding as you are to have an asli wedding band, and this is not music to the ears of Kabirpur’s villagers.
This village in Uttar Pradesh is also called Band Baja Gaon. Almost every household here is engaged in the brass band business. Elders say the tradition goes back about 200 years, to the era of the nawabs.
There are 90 bands based in Kabirpur; the highest tally for any village in the state, they add. In a village of just 2,500 people, that’s about 1200 musicians.
“Our day starts with music and ends with it. It’s what made our village famous,” says Gurucharan Lal Sahu, 58, one of the oldest bandmasters here.
Now, changing wedding trends are threatening their way of life. Traditional songs are no longer in demand. “People nowadays are more interested in soulful numbers, rather than the ones we are well-versed with. People want more instrumental and soothing songs, which our self-trained-musicians can’t provide,” says Sahu.
A UP government order on noise pollution issued in January feels, to them, like a final blow. The order outlaws, among other things, the conical speakers mounted on trolleys that have been the pride of Kabirpurs band-baja-walas. With a heavy heart, the Band Association of Kabirpur directed all bands to remove the high-decibel speakers from all trolleys.
“Their sound would travel almost a kilometre,” Sahu says wistfully. “Since we took them off, customers have been saying our trolleys are missing the thump they used to have. We don’t have any answer to give them.”
Sahu, who is also president of the Band Association, is joined by another bandmaster who points out that the trolleys have been banned entirely in cities like Delhi. In May 2015, the Agra district magistrate banned the movement of band trolleys on traffic-prone routes. In 2010, the Delhi traffic police issued strict rules for marriage processions, banning them on busy roads, and at roundabouts.
“Our village has more than 90 trolleys. We can’t sleep at night thinking of what will happen,” says Bahadur Ali, 52, owner of Mastana Band. “Besides Lucknow, people from neighbouring districts like Unnao, Kanpur, Barabanki, Faizabad, Hardoi and Sitapur would come here to join the business.”
BACKWARDS / FORWARDS
Initially, Kabirpur used to have ‘sada bands’, made up of a small group of musicians, on foot, playing a handful of instruments. By the 1920s, the brass bands with speakers and trolleys came into vogue.
“Bands are not traditionally part of Indian culture,” says Roshan Taqi, a historian and author of several books on Awadh’s culture and heritage. “They were introduced by British and some nawabs and kings who admired the British and their way of life began to form Indian versions of their bands.”
After independence, these musicians returned home to their villages and some began rendering their services to commoners, Taqi adds.
The practice of hiring bands for Indian weddings had already taken hold in the previous century, along with many other practices associated with Western weddings, such as printing invitation cards. And so the wedding bands became a status symbol and thrived.
“I still remember the times as recent as 2005 when commoners, bureaucrats and government people would queue at Kabirpur to hire a band for wedding functions, and they were ready to pay hefty sums,” says Master Parmanand, 55, owner of Rangeela Band.
Until 2009, booking a trolley used to cost around Rs 25,000 to 35,000. “Now, you can get one for just Rs 6,000. By the end of a wedding or function, each person earns barely a few hundred rupees,” says Munna Lal, 50, bandmaster of Afsana Band.
Beneath the angst over the fading of the music, is a larger concern that they are being left behind in other ways.
There has been little development here. The village has no secondary school; the nearest hospitals and colleges are in Lucknow, about 25 km away. Though the village is on the bustling Sultanpur Road, it has few roads of its own.
“Ours is one of the most backward villages” says Master Parmanand. “Many governments have come and gone but nothing in the village has changed. We don’t want this life for our children, so we don’t try to stop them when they go to cities far away to live and work.”
source: http://www.hindustantimes.com / Hindustan Times / Home> Lifestyle> Arts & Culture / by Oliver Fredrick, Hindustan Times / August 19th, 2018
A Varansi-based start-up has designed a three-month special crash course to ‘groom’ potential daughters-in-law. The three-month course promises to train women, boost their communications skills and heighten their confidence.
The course has been initiated by Young Skilled India Start-Up which is incubated with the Malviya Nav Parivartan Kendra of IIT-BHU based on demands of parents. The CEO of the start-up clarified that initiative wasn’t officially linked to IIT-BHU.
Named ‘My Daughter, My Pride’, the course was designed with Kashi-based Vanita Institute of Fashion and Designs after conducting a survey. They said they had received ‘tremendous response’ from the public and parents during the survey.
Jatin Srivastava, who runs another start-up said: “It is true that businesses do cater to any legitimate demand in the market. But one has to be careful in dealing with social and public issues. Personally, I do not endorse any such project which is aimed at making money at public cost.”
source: http://www.dnaindia.com / DNA / Home> India / by Srawan Shukla / September 03rd, 2018
Two medicos brought laurels to Lucknow by their selection for Dr BC Roy Award in the category of eminent medical teachers.
Gau Raksha Bandhan
Muslim women marked the occasion of Raksha Bandhan by tying rakhis to cows at the Lord Shiva temple near Kudiya Ghat in Rumi Gate area. To encourage Muslims to protect cows, BJP MLC Bukkal Nawab organised the event. “We have taken the vow to protect the cow as ‘Gau Raksha’ is important. The time has come to work in this direction,” said the women. They felt that it was a high time that the poor and the farmers were educated about the significance of rearing cows for social, economic, religious, environmental and health benefits.
Lucknow connect to Mars Mission
Lucknow will have its own pie to contribute to the prestigious Mars Mission India as two students of APJ Abdul Kalam Technical University (AKTU) have been selected in the astrobiology section of the project. Satyam Pratap Singh and Utkarsh Singhal will be working on the project where the model fulfils the demand of a Rover, weather information and self-protection system of the project. As per Utkarsh, the duo will be taken to the University of Edinburgh, the UK for a week to test their models in the Mars-like atmosphere. The prototype developed by Satyam will study the environment like temperature and humidity, while Utkarsh’s prototype will try to capture a 360-degree view of Mars.
Medicos bring laurels
Two medicos brought laurels to Lucknow by their selection for Dr BC Roy Award in the category of eminent medical teachers. Director, Sanjay Gandhi Post Graduate Institute of Medical Sciences, Prof Rakesh Kapoor and King George’s Medical University vice-chancellor Prof MLB Bhatt were selected for the prestigious and highest recognition for medical practitioners in India. The award was instituted by the Medical Council of India (MCI) in 1976 in memory of renowned physician and former West Bengal CM Dr Bidhan Chandra Roy. “It is one of the most prestigious awards in the medical fraternity, and I am honoured to have been selected for it,” Prof Rakesh Kapoor said. Prof Bhatt attributed his success to the cooperation of his faculty members at the KGMU.
Gelling through drums
It was an opportunity to get synchronised with peers, colleagues and teammates in a unique way through ‘Drum Jam’ in the city. Organised by CII and conducted by Young Indians, Lucknow chapter, it was the first session of its kind to distress colleagues while gelling together. The session offered some great amount of listening. It focused on strategising skills, problem-solving approach and creating vibrations for colleagues to rhythmically align with organisational goals. During a two-hour session, members played the drum spontaneously without any prior training. No formal introduction session of participants was organised but once the session began, everyone coordinated with each other and played the drums in a synchronised manner.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Nation / by Namita Gajpai / September 02nd, 2018
The Dr Ram Manohar Lohia Avadh University, Faizabad, on Tuesday signed a memorandum of understanding (MoU) with the famous Naka Hanuman Garhi temple, Faizabad, for collection of floral waste from the temple for producing exotic itra (traditional, natural perfume), incense sticks and fertilisers.
The university would collect the floral waste for this purpose, said Mahant Ramdas of the temple after signing the MoU.
Prof Manoj Dixit, vice chancellor of Avadh University, said the university will soon help recycle bio degradable refuse into exotic itra (traditional natural perfume), incense sticks and even scented havan ingredients.
Devotees offer about 200 kg flowers and 50 kg tulsi (basil leaves) at the temple every Tuesday and Saturday.
They offer 50 kg flowers on the remaining five days.
Mahant Ramdas said he was delighted that the university had come forward to sign this pact with the temple as it was becoming difficult to dispose of such a large volume of floral waste.
“We are happy that students will collect the floral waste and produce itra out of the flower juice,” he said.
The university had already signed an MoU with the Kannauj-based Fragrance and Flavour Development Centre (FFDC), he added. Production of itra and incense sticks will begin anytime this year, he said.
“We are waiting for the machines to come from Kannauj,” said prof Dixit.
“The students will learn to produce itra from flower juice, incense sticks from dry flowers and fertiliser from leaves. The move will not only help in disposal of floral waste but also generate employment for locals,” said prof Dixit.
The Avadh University has prepared a detailed proposal in association with FFDC, Kannauj, for this purpose. with whom they signed MoU earlier this month.
There were nearly 10,000 big and small temples in Ayodhya that accounted for 10-12 quintal floral waste daily, said Jaswant Singh, professor in environmental sciences department of the university. He is in touch with FFDC for the project.
“The idea is to use discarded flowers and leaves by traditional methods for making fragrance and flavour (itra, incense sticks, etc) with the help of local people and the finished product will be given back to the temples,” he further said.
source:http://www.hindustantimes.com / Hindustan Times / Home> Cities> Lucknow / by Rajeev Mullick, Hindustan Times,Lucknow / August 23rd, 2018
In Agra’s Roman Catholic Cemetery lies a ‘Red Taj’ built for a Dutchman by his wife
The Taj Mahal has unnecessarily become a standard for all tombs in India. Each monument is unique, yet the comparisons continue. The tomb of Shahnawaz Khan, son of Abdur Rahim Khan-e-Khanan, in Burhanpur is called the ‘Black Taj Mahal’. The tomb of Ibrahim Adil Shah II in Bijapur is called the ‘Taj Mahal of the Deccan’. And I discovered recently, much to my horror, that the exquisite tomb of Itmad-ud-Daula in Agra, also made of marble, is called the ‘Baby Taj’!
So, when I was informed of a ‘Red Taj Mahal’ in Agra, I was curious, not because of the comparison, but because it is located in the Roman Catholic Cemetery and was built for a Dutchman, Colonel John William Hessing, by his wife Anne. This seemed like an interesting reversal of the story that we are familiar with, and when I went there, I discovered that it was.
Comparisons with the Taj
Hessing was born in Utrecht, Holland, in 1739, and came to India as a 24-year-old. He served under the Nizam of Hyderabad and the Marathas, and was later given the command of the first two battalions of the newly raised Scindia army. After the death of Maharaja Mahadaji Scindia, he continued to serve under Maharaja Daulat Rao Scindia. When he could no longer actively serve due to ill-health, Hessing was made the Commandant of Agra Fort by Scindia. He died in 1803, and was buried in the Roman Catholic Cemetery in Nehru Nagar, Agra.
I entered the wooden gate of the premises with excitement as I had seen the red dome from afar. To the right of the entrance was a red sandstone tomb. Of course, it is not like the Taj Mahal, but as it is domed, has vaulted doorways, was built in the Mughal style, and is in Agra, the comparisons are inevitable. It has four slender minarets, attached to the main tomb, its cupolas crowned by pinnacles. The dome with its inverted lotus and finial rises from the centre. There are octagonal chabutras attached to the platform on all four corners. There is a fine carved panel running along the edge on the top and around the drum of the dome. Marble plaques at the main entrance have inscriptions in Persian.
As is the case with all Mughal tombs, the actual grave is underneath. There are many other graves in the corridor outside the crypt. Hessing’s monument, said to have been built at a cost of one lakh rupees, is the most prominent. According to Mathura: A District Memoir by F.S. Growse, a French traveller named Victor Jacquemont, who visited Agra in 1829-1830, had said that the Taj, though pretty, was hardly elegant and that the only pure specimen of oriental architecture was the tomb of John Hessing in the Catholic Cemetery. There is no doubt that he was talking of the time when the Taj Mahal had fallen into disrepair. It was mainly due to the efforts of Lord Curzon at the turn of the 20th century that the Taj acquired its current splendour, but I agree with Growse that Jacquemont views are “warped”. Hessing’s tomb is definitely elegant, but it cannot be compared to the Taj Mahal even on the Taj’s worst day.
Fanny Parkes in her journal Begum, Thugs and White Mughals, edited by William Dalrymple, describes the Hessing tomb as “a beautiful mausoleum” which is “well worth a visit”. It was built by a “native architect, by the name Lateef, in imitation of the ancient Mohammedan tombs”. She writes: “The tomb is beautiful, very beautiful and in excellent taste.” Lateef was apparently an expert parchinkar who used to inlay marble with precious stones as well as draw pictures of the Taj Mahal and other monuments in Agra. Parkes bought a few of them.
In the cemetery
The cemetery is well kept, green, and peaceful. Not many people know of it, so I found no visitors there. The caretakers were cooperative and took me around. The cemetery was originally built for the Armenian Christians who came during the reign of Emperor Akbar. The oldest grave belongs to John Mildenhall, an Englishman who died in 1614.
As I wandered around the cemetery, what struck me was the amalgamation of cultures. There was a grave with Allah and the cross carved on it. Many graves had Latin, English and Persian inscriptions on them. A small chapel had petitions to god by the faithful tied to its door, and window screens similar to what we see in dargahs.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Opinion / by Rana Safvi / September 02nd, 2018
Hyderabad couple GVSP Kumar and his wife E Usha Bala at their room in Varanasi’s Kasivas Dham. (Sanchit Khanna/HT PHOTO)
The rain has died down. Like the rest of Varanasi, Mukti Bhavan, the lodge for salvation seekers, is also fragrant with an overpowering earthy scent. Drops of water trickle down pipes. The sound of traffic is audible again in the bustling street where the Bhavan, a more than 60-year-old structure, with its wrought iron gate, arches and tin mailbox, stands as a reminder of a bygone era .
Bhairav Nath Shukla, the Bhavan’s manager for the last 40 years, has been silent while the rain was falling, and now, sitting on a wooden chair in his room, he seems even more distant, staring through the window into the bazaar beyond the lodge’s campus, which is coming back to life after the downpour. His is an unshaven, stern face with deep lines and almost unblinking eyes, framed by grey, cropped hair. Dressed in a clean, ironed dhoti-kurta, he seems the living embodiment of the lodge that he takes care of.
In the Hindu belief system, dying in Kashi, the older part of Varanasi city, along the banks of Ganga, is associated with moksha or mukti – liberation from the cycle of life and death. “Elsewhere in traditional India, the cremation ground is outside of the town, for it is polluted ground. Here, however, the cremation grounds are in the midst of a busy city, adjacent to the bathing ghats, and are holy ground, for death in Kashi is acclaimed by the tradition, as a great blessing. Dying here, one gains liberation from the earthly round of samsara,” Diana L Eck, professor of Comparative Religion and Indian Studies at Harvard University, writes in her book Banaras: City of Light.
A Place To Die
In 1958, industrialist Vishnu Hari Dalmia set up Mukti Bhavan for those who wanted to die in peace in Kashi.
Mukti Bhavan, set up by industrialist Hari Dalmia in 1958. (Sanchit Khanna/HT PHOTO)
“Let us see. Someone may come to check in now,” says Shukla in a matter-of-fact tone. Shukla hosts people when they are close to death. He allocates one of the 10 rooms in the Bhavan to them and supervises the transition from material to immortal. He has done this more than 12,000 times. “A son got his father here thinking that he would fulfill his father’s wish. The son died here and the father lived on. Matters of life and death are beyond our control,” he says, face stoic, as if he has seen it all. The last time someone occupied a room in the lodge was more than two months ago. “The nayee peedhi (the younger generation), people of your age, have got too busy to get their parents here. It is okay. They will reap what they are sowing,” says Shukla, putting a pile of hard-bound registers, smelling of seepage, on the table next to his chair. “Come, all the visitors’ details are here.”
He brushes the dust off a register with the palm of his hand, opens it, moves his forefinger over handwritten details of visitors, and starts murmuring the names. This register is Shukla’s mirror to the past. “You see this one?” he points to an entry. “He was a Naxalite. First, he came with a young man. After two days, an entire battalion landed here. They would often talk to me. Like all rebels, they tried to justify their actions, said that they had taken up arms because they were left with no other choice. They spoke of the ‘injustices’ done to them. I suggested that they surrender to the authorities. Obviously, they were not going to listen to me. After the first one died, they all left.”
Bhairav Nath Shukla has been the manager of Mukti Bhavan for 40 years. (Sanchit Khanna/HT PHOTO)
He continues to turn the pages of the register. “This one was in a hurry,” he recounts a second tale. “He was upset when his father did not die within 15 days and they both had to go back home in Gaya. I could see that the father was going to live for at least another five years,” he says, clearly bewildered by the son’s attitude.
The stay at Mukti Bhavan is free. The visitor must have an attendant, and can take a room for a maximum of 15 days, after which Shukla decides whether to extend the stay or not depending on the person’s health and the availability of rooms.
These prerequisites are unique to Mukti Bhavan though. Other facilities meant for moksharthis have different terms and conditions.
The Move To Kashi
Take Kasivas Bhavan, for example. It is home to GVSP Kumar, 65, and his wife E Usha Bala, 62. They make for a picture-perfect couple. It almost seems as if they got married last week. They complete each other’s sentences; Usha pats Kumar’s white shirt to remove specks of dust that only she can see; Kumar ensures that this interview does not disturb Usha’s schedule. Both of them opted for voluntary retirement from the Hyderabad education department in 2007, and became regular visitors at Kashi’s Annapurna temple. During one of the visits in 2015, temple officials asked them if they would be interested in contributing money (₹ 5 lakh) for one of the rooms in the then under-construction Kasivas Bhavan for people who wanted to spend their last years in Kashi. The donor had the option of taking possession of the room or giving it to the temple trust. They agreed to take the room.
When they visited the small campus, on an incline, around 50 steps away from Mukti Bhavan, they decided to live there for the rest of their lives. Kumar works pro bono in Kashi Vishwanath Temple’s hundi (donation) section. Usha is learning Carnatic music at Banaras Hindu University and does Telugu-English translation in her free time. “There is still a lot of life left in both of us. If you think we have given up, that is not the case,” says Kumar, laughing. “It is good if we happen to die here. But we don’t lose our sleep thinking about it.” The couple wants to use their resources to set up a music college. They have not decided where.
Moksha On Their Minds
“Mast raho (just chill)” is the idea that has helped Gulab Bai, 76, during her 20-year stay at Mumukshu Bhavan, a landmark near the iconic Assi Ghat. Spread over four acres, the campus has a secondary school, temple, resthouse for travellers and a 60-room section for salvation-seekers.
Gulab Bai, 76, has been living at Mumuksha Bhavan in Varanasi for 20 years. (Sanchit Khanna/HT PHOTO)
Gulab Bai is animated for her age. Her eyes widen in her round, full, wrinkled face every time she is talking to someone. She sits on a cot in her room, ears pricked, as if she doesn’t want to miss out on any activity outside. “This is my world,” she says, walking around her room, which is a study in balance amid chaos. There are large, laminated posters of Shiva, Saraswati and Krishna pasted on a wall. A French window near the foot of the cot has been converted into a prayer section. A bunch of clothes hang on a plastic string above the headrest. Fruits and vegetables, kept in polythene bags, hang on a thick string fastened at two ends on walls. The paint on the walls is peeling.
Gulab Bai’s children – three sons, a daughter, eight grandchildren – live in Delhi. Her husband was an employee with the Indian Railways. Together, she says, they went to all the holy shrines in the country. “Moksha is nowhere else but here,” she says in her sharp voice.
After her husband died following a prolonged illness more than 20 years ago, she told her sons to arrange for her stay in Kashi because she wanted to get rid of the “cycle of birth and rebirth.”
She has no friends, keeps to herself, and has grown disillusioned over the years. “If I am good to people, they will exploit me. These days, you never know,” she says. “Your Delhi is worse. You saw how Handa murdered that woman? I watched it on a news channel,” she says, sounding horrified, discussing the case in which an Army Major killed a colleague’s wife in Delhi in June. “No one is safe.”
Gayatri Devi, 76, with her daughter Veena (Sanchit Khanna/HT PHOTO)
At the other end of the corridor, just as 76-year-old Gayatri Devi is getting ready for her siesta, her daughter, Veena, knocks at the door. Veena is married and lives in Varanasi. Eight years ago, when her mother, who was then living in Delhi, expressed the desire to attain moksha, Veena made a few enquiries and discovered that a room was available in Mumukshu Bhavan. She visits her mother at least twice a week. “She has not visited Delhi even once since she shifted here. Her biggest fear is to die outside Kashi,” says Veena. “I came here expecting that there would be pooja path (prayers) all through the day, and it would be a conducive atmosphere to die in peace. Nothing of that nature happens here. Everybody is busy back biting,” complains Gayatri Devi.
The Business Of Death
Once upon a time, it was difficult to identify moksha seekers in Kashi. They were part of the crowd and were not segregated as visitors or guests in hotels where people check in to die. Veteran journalist Amitabh Bhattacharya comes from a family of musicians and philosophers that has been living in Varanasi for 23 generations. The septuagenarian’s speech is an exercise in filling pauses. With his partially rusted metal frame glasses, mouth full of paan and slow walk, he seems frozen in time even as Varanasi moves on. When Bhattacharya was a young man, he remembers that neighbourhood families would host salvation seekers – including beggars and widows – in their last days. It was a common occurrence. Back then, he says, there were no separate facilities for them. “He or she could be anyone; your co-passenger in a cycle-rickshaw or the person eating next to you in a restaurant. Now they have shrunk to a few lodges on the banks of the Ganga,” he says.
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Bhattacharya wonders if any of the inmates in these lodges will get moksha. “You have to detach yourself from worldly affairs to get attached to Kashi. People in these facilities spend their days on their iPhones. You think they will get salvation?” he asks in a dismissive tone. With a sense of loss, he adds, “Salvation has become a business now. It suits both the moksharthi (salvation seeker) and the person offering the accommodation. What’s more, the same courtyard can be booked for marriage functions. What can you and I do?”
source: http://www.hindustantimes.com / Hindustan Times / Home> India News / by Danish Raza,Hindustan Times / August 04th, 2018
Visitors at the exhibition at Subhadra Art Gallery in Bhubaneswar on Monday. Picture by Ashwinee Pati
Bhubaneswar:
An ongoing art exhibition at Subhadra gallery here attempting to connect art and spirituality is attracting a number of art enthusiasts.
Titled, The Pilgrim, the exhibition features artworks by 20 artists from Varanasi.
Around 80 paintings are on display. A number of artworks from the artists of the state have also been put up.
P. Pranam Singh, professor of painting at Indira Kala Sangeet Vishwavidyalaya, Khairagarh, said: “Such exhibitions definitely attract more crowds as well as provides an opportunity to the artists to interact with art lovers.”
Artist Sunil Viswakarma from Banaras stressed on the visual importance of ancient Indian culture through his paintings.
Many of the paintings focus on nature and its connection with spirituality. Through deep colours, the paintings bring to life the full blooms flanked by majestic trees and vines.
The contemporary paintings by Sanjay Singh from Varanasi caught the eyes of many that have depicted modern life through brushstrokes
A painting on display at the exhibition. (Ashwinee Pati)
Snehalata’s painting on a socio-eco theme was highly appreciated both by art critics and guests present.
Former chief administrative officer of the Puri Jagannath temple and art connoisseur Pradip Kumar Jena, who inaugurated the festival, said: “The beautiful amalgamation of diverse paintings has really given the show a larger audience.”
Artists such as Sunil Kuswah, Pankaj Verma, Asha Prakash, Sarda Singh, Nidhi Tripathi, Vishka, Shradha Chaturvedi, Rahul Singh, Ajay Upasani, Satyendra Baoni, Pankaj Kumar Sharma, Baldev Maharatha, Raghunath Sahoo, Binodini Behera, Jaya Jena, Tuhina Joshi, Sanjay Ketan, Arun Pallur, Suresh Dhal and Manas Ranjan Jena were present on the occasion.
Gallery founder Rabi Rath said: “Cultivating the arts as a spiritual practice is a path to freeing our imagination and developing valuable skills for vital living in the world. The exhibition was an attempt of that.”
source: http://www.telegraphindia.com / The Telegraph,Calcutta,India / Home> Odisha / by Anwesha Ambaly / June 19th, 2018
Playwright Actor Director Ram ji Bali Ramji Bali has been appointed as the first director of the new branch.
Rangamy Ramji Bali.
In its six decades of history, the National School of Drama (NSD) has expanded itself outside its celebrated Delhi precincts with opening up of an extension centre in Varanasi recently. The renowned institute has roped in one of its eminent alumni, Rangamy Ramji Bali, to become the first director of the new branch.
As of now, the new centre will run a one-year certificate course and only deal with Sanskrit plays translated into Hindi. Like its parent branch, the centre will take in 26 students from all over India. The admission for the first batch is in process at the moment. The last date for submitting the forms is 20 July and the final interviews will be held between 25 and 27 July in Varanasi itself. The classes are scheduled to start from the first week of August.
Speaking to The Sunday Guardian, Bali said that there is no better place to start the institute outside Delhi than in the land of Shiva, the originator of “Natya Shastra” or the science of dances.
Better known as Kashi, the place is considered as the land of Hindu mythology that connects Sanskrit scriptures to the rest of the country, he explained, adding that the new centre’s main objective will be to introduce this Natya Shastra written in these scriptures to the world.
“The NSD teaches everything to its students, from Western to Indian classical and contemporary. But there has always been a concern that our youths are not attached to their own culture in this modern era. Hence, NSD-Varanasi will help break this stereotype, as we will include everything—from dance to music to acting. This will be taught from an Indian classical point of view, which will be amalgamated with mythology and Natya Shastra,” said Bali.
Bali further added that the style of performance will be inspired by “Natya Shastra and mythology”, but the presentation will be in Hindi with a “touch of Sanskrit in it”.
Pointing out that there is a false impression that the youth is “rigid” when it comes to Sanskrit, he said, “It is a misconception. I have met a lot of students who have displayed their interest in Natya Shastra. This is why one of our main objectives will be to break this stereotype.”
The institute has plans to hire teachers on contractual basis, giving preference to scholars with Sanskrit background.
“People who have studied or are experts in Sanskrit will be hired for the job. This will give new opportunities to people with Sanskrit degrees,” Bali added.
The new centre aims at making its students realise the importance of Sanskrit scriptures that have mostly surfaced in Varanasi itself. “We will try to make our students understand the importance of Natya Shastra and then slowly teach the basics of Sanskrit in the span of one year,” he said.
The new NSD Director, who always wanted to encourage Natya Shastra, said he “personally wants every student, who walks out of NSD, to know something about Sanskrit”.
To provide students with an exposure to a wide array of knowledge on Indian culture, the students will be taken on a month-long trip to different corners of the country.
Explaining the involvement of NSD-Delhi, Bali said, “The plays will be staged independently by the Varanasi centre only. Though the centre will be guided by the Delhi branch, everything else will be done independently there.”
The new NSD branch will be opened at the Nagari Natak Mandali’s campus in School Kabir Chaura in the holy city. “It’s one of the oldest buildings in Varanasi. We don’t have our own campus yet, but are working on it,” said Bali.
A resident of Faridabad, Bali has penned seven plays and has directed approximately 75 plays so far. He is an alumnus of 2001 batch of the NSD, Delhi. He will be seen in the upcoming projects of noted director Tigmanshu Dhulia—“Saheb, Biwi Aur Gangster 3” and “Yaara”.
source: http://www.sundaymagazineive.in / Sunday Guardian Live / Home> News / by Nibedita Saha & Nikita Jain / July 08th, 2018
