VEIW FROM THE GROUND – 5

Old-age Jazz music and Yeat’s romantic poetry are not enough! 

Ken Loach has done a sequel to his acclaimed, well-received movie “The Wind that Shakes the

Barley”. As we know, no sequel can come up to the lofty height of the original, but Ken Loach is at a

vantage positon. He is not spreading out a story, he’s just recording history. As a movie-maker he

can interpret history on his own. The Barley was based on The Irish civil war of 1919-22 which was,

in the real case, turned out to be sell-out to the British and the Church.  “The Masters and the

pastors” held the reigns ever after. However, you can’t extinguish the ‘simmer of discontent’ once

and for all. James Gralton was a fiery activist during the Irish ‘War of Independence’ and he felt

cheated when the treaty was signed between the British royalty and the IRA with the active

connivance of the Church. Gralton couldn’t take it lying down and he made up his mind for a self-

imposed-exile.  He landed up in New York City. The condition of common people was not any day

better on the other side of the Atlantic either. Gralton pulled on for ten years before wrapping up.

The great Depression of the thirties was already showing up its ugly hood and James Gralton

renamed as Jimmy Gralton in the film, packed his meagre trunk-box with a few Jazz records that he

collected from Harlem and a gramophone. The movie begins with Jimmy’s home coming to his


County Leitrim where his mother runs the family farm.  She is a cut above the rest, a self-starter, go

getter and a never-ending source of courage. She ran a library and studied the books on her own

and educated children in the neighborhood.

Sergeiy Vasilyevich - The Partisan's Mother -1943

As we know, the movie is based on the life and times of a real-life activist James Gralton, an

Irishman who held double citizenship but was deported to the United States. The sequence of

events is correct. This is a period film after all. Except for an imaginary love affair James had with an

angelic girl named Oonagh. Alas! Jimmy and Oonagh  couldn’t take it to the finishing point though

our hero had all USPs (sorry for the wrong usage) for winning female hearts. Ken Loach is lucky 

because all remarks about original Gralton  have been expunged from Government records . 

Now, the Director's Licence is at work! The script-writer has got wings!


Jimmy (James originally) had started a common meeting place for the peasants, Pearse-Connolly 


Hall (named after his favorite Union leader) and educated the plain folk with dance, music, poetry and even boxing.

Naturally, the activities at the Hall leads to eye-ball to eye-ball confrontation between Jimmy and

Fr.Sheridan. The Father is clever enough to foresee the future. The youth will get attracted to “Jazzy

music ….pelvic thrusts” and  they will be given igniting reading material. Naturally they’ll start

questioning power-centres for the injustice perpetuated. “The Losangelisation of our people should

not be tolerated”, Father declares. He does the Senator McCarthy Act to eliminate the Red

influence. At the same time, he understands Communism more than anyone else. In the privacy of

his study, he admits to his junior that the cardinal principle of the ideology, i.e., “From each

according to his ability and to each according to his need” is wonderfully similar to the New

Testament’s  maxim “Love Thy Neighbor”. He goes on to add that Communism is quasi religious.

Secretly he admires Jimmy for his selflessness and courage. The father is rather reluctant in 

acknowledging it. He is very secretive about his inner self!  I don’t know why he doesn’t turn into a

liberation theologist, that’s the logical conclusion. Instead he is trying the McCarthian techniques

one after other. 

First he isolates the people who visit Jimmy’s Hall, reads out their names in parish meetings and

then arranges for a social boycott. Since the strategy nosedives, he introduces another one in which

the Police acts as the watchdog for the Father.  The uniformed men enter the Hall at any time they

like, showing-off the guns in hand. Goons hired by the local land-owners set fire to the dwellings of

Estate workers in the dead of the night. Needless to say, they are all natural sympathizers of Jimmy.

Kazimir Malevich - The Workers

Meanwhile, Jimmy tries his level-best to bring the defiant Father to his fold. He keeps some Jazz

records at the doorsteps and the father is moved by the anguish in the female singer’s voice. The 

first time Fr. Sheridan actually listened to someone else!

However, Jimmy continues with his efforts. On an advice of Oonagh , he invites the Father to be a

member of board of Trustees (of Pearse-Connolly Hall). Father accepts it on one condition – the

deed of the land & building should change hands. That’s the limit! Jimmy erupts,

Father, you’re having more hate in your heart than Love.

Now Sheridan is fully convinced that Jimmy cannot be won over by any conceivable way. The end

game is in sight. Usually it’s the physical elimination of the person(s). Luckily Fr.Sheridan chooses

the lesser evil. He arranges to deport Jimmy for holding two passports. Jimmy  is arrested by the

Police at the second attempt. He manages to give the slip at the first time with the help of his mother.

He is deported to the US without a trial.

Marc Chagall - Scene de Cirque

The movie is over. After watching the film, you’re in a fix. You don’t know whether to like the film or

not! Anyway, Ken Loach grows on you in the meantime. You are definitely moved by the film-maker's sincerity.

However, he harbors romantic ideas about Communism. He is a classical communist, rather. Such a

person just refuses to acknowledge change. Though the cardinal principles of Communism just

cannot change, it’s applicability does. Communism is an internally dynamic philosophy. The rot is

definite to set in and the practitioner should be able to arrest it. Like Dharma in many ways. The

core of Dharma is the spiritual element. Practice of Selflessness and the cultivation of Love. If one

has an inkling for Dharma, one can arrive at the modes for the rescue operation.

Both Communism and Spirituality are essentially the same.

Ken Loach must throw his romantic ideas to the winds!

*************

VIEW FROM THE GROUND – 4

Forgettable Agenda

When you sit down to watch a Ken Loach film, you definitely don’t expect a political thriller. There are people like Costa Gavres doing it in a better way. “Hidden Agenda” disappoints you in many ways. In a nut-shell, the movie is a “whodunnit” type, James Bond genre with an abnormal ending. Invariably, all Bond movies end up with the hero being victorious, walking away with all laurels. Here, Detective Kerrigan gives up the investigation in between because he knows that the enemy is far too formidable. He is supposed to investigate the assassination of an American Civil Liberties Activist, an internationally reputed lawyer in Northern Ireland. Kerrigan discovers not only an extensive cover up of that event but a giant political conspiracy as well. Somehow, he doesn’t have the nerve to nab the culprits. It’s not just one fellow, the entire system has to be hand-cuffed!

Kerrigan gradually recognizes British government’s immense power to obscure and manipulate the truth. He can’t do a fig as he too is a part of it. He is a career police officer with twenty-six years’ standing, though he has impeccable credentials and integrity.  His sympathies lie with the IRA and Kerrigan risks his life meeting the victims of RUC (Police) violence. In fact, there is ‘shoot-to-kill’ order in operation. Innocent civilians are murdered in cold blood.

intruding into your lives

The movie opens with the American lawyer Paul Sullivan alongwith his fiancée Ingrid, both members of the International League of Civil Liberties, land up in Belfast to gather information on Human Rights violations by the British Security forces. Even IRA sympathizers are tortured during interrogations.

Ingrid & Sullivan

Meanwhile an ex-army officer named Harris is in the custody of a few audio tapes which contain a certain plot to eliminate / blackmail certain leaders who are seen as a potential threat to the powers-that-be. Harris himself is on the run from the British Security forces and wants Paul to make the revelations of its contents to the world. Paul is interested and arranges a meeting with Harris outside the city. Unfortunately, he is run off the road and murdered. The government promptly sends in a special investigator- our career cop Kerrigan to piece together a report.

The detective and the activist

The high-point of “Hidden Agenda” is that it is based on a couple of true stories! In fact, fact and fiction are interwoven seamlessly such that the entire film appears blurred! Agenda is neither a documentary nor a feature film.

We all know that the skewed policies of Margaret Thatcher were responsible for Northern Ireland’s troubles in the eighties. Besides, the Tory political masterminds of the Iron Lady, the British Intelligence and the CIA hatched a devious plot to permanently keep the progressive Labor opposition from ever taking power again.

The movie is inspired by the Stalker Affair too (of 1983) in which a senior British police officer, John Stalker was assigned to investigate a killing by British Security officials. He uncovered evidence that the shooting was unjustified. Naturally, he was removed. Kerrigan does not go that far, but his fate is also sealed!

Margaret Thatcher is the real target of Hidden Agenda. I don’t know whether it is justifiable to make a film on one’s bête noir. A film maker should always be open (to people and ideas). No grudge harboring allowed. Interestingly, the movie strays away from the core issue, North Ireland becomes less and less relevant as the film progresses.

One Tory MP remarked in bad taste “Hidden Agenda is the IRA entry at the Cannes”!

I don’t know why!

Stewart Cope is responsible for the score. You guessed it right, he is the co-founder of the pop band The Police.

“Hidden Agenda” won the Jury Prize at the Cannes in 1990.

Yeah, nothing succeeds like success!

***************

VIEW FROM THE GROUND -3

Evaporating Youth

This is the story a couple of misfits, trapped in the cycle of poverty and violence. There are four of them, under-privileged urban youth, including a girl named Mo who is a habitual kleptomaniac. Un-educated lot, not heard of Albert Einstien, don’t have any idea what Mona Lisa is. Worse, they use “philippine” in place of “philistine”. They work towards changing their environment and eventually come out of the gutter. 

The protagonist of Ken Loach's "Angels' Share" is a 25 year-old youth named Robbie (Paul Brannigan) who always parks himself in trouble, mainly on account of his “short-fuse” temper. His girl-friend's father dismisses Robbie as a sheer “waste of space”. Gunfights and street brawls are a regular fare. He is already convicted and served a jail-term. A unilateral fight Robbie picked up with an young man who was going to meet his girl landed him in the 'government guest-house' finally . Robbie orders the guy to park his car elsewhere and almost simultaneously takes out a knife! The victim has twelve stitches on his head and vision of the left eye is irreparably lost. Our man meets the victim as a part of TASC (Talk After Serious Crime) and it does make an effect. Robbie just can’t think of a similar event happening to his child. Sadly enough, he can’t break out from the cycle of violence. His latest mis-adventure is yet another fight on the street in which he injures three fellow-rowdies.

Robbie’s crime is recited before a magistrate alongwith that of others and the judge takes a lineant view. The thing that works out to Robbie’s favor is his imminent fatherhood. The judge sentences all the four misfits for “Community Payback” during which they have to do compulsory social work by way of manual labor. 

Robbie waits for the judgment

Harry (John Henshaw), the warm-hearted Community Service Supervisor is introduced here as a friendly and good-humored shepherd of the black-sheeps. He is also a connoisseur of good whiskey. He takes the ‘misfits’ to a distillery tour and there Robbie discovers his whiskey-rating abilities. He has a fine nose. He collects information from all sources and turns into a pro. 

The gang of four at the Whiskey Festival

 It so happens that Harry takes all the four to a Whiskey Festival at Edinburgh which is a rendezvous for millionaires to flaunt their fine taste. The rarest whiskeys of the world are open to auction. Robbie is accepted to this elite club and the ‘gang of four’ collects the info that the rarest barrel costing more than a million pounds is coming up for auction. Mo is at work again and she steals the site-map of the factory and warehouse from a shady collector named Thaddeus (Roger Allam).

‘Angels’ Share’ becomes an unbelievably low-tech heist movie from this point. The quartet reaches the ware-house where no surveillance cameras or security guards are in operation(??!!), Robbie gets a walk-over and siphons off three bottles. He replaces the volume with ordinary whiskey and make a quick exit. One bottle is broken during the operation and out of the balance, they gift one bottle to Harry. The last bottle is sold off to Thaddeus for “hundred grands” (100,000 pounds). Of course, they share the booty equally among themselves. The shady bidder also arranges a regular job for Robbie outside Glasgow.

The quartet decides to start a new life bidding adieu to their wayward past. After all, the misfits are victims of environment and circumstances but essentially good.

Robbie leaves Glasgow once and for all. The jail-bird wants to give a head-start to his son , he doesn’t want to perpetuate the same conditions for his ‘wee-man’ Luke....one look into the baby’s eyes is enough!

The family

 This positive aspect relegates all those ‘relevant questions’ that we are going to ask,

How come the Security is so lax for the one million pound barrel?

How can you conduct a heist with hose, hammer and head-light?

How’s it possible for a professional not to detect the appalling quality while tasting?

The answers do not matter. These young people are shaping up their destiny in spite of tough circumstances. Salute them!

The name of the movie refers to the 2% loss every year when the whiskey evaporates into thin air through porous oak (of the barrel). The Angels are getting a taste of it!

As usual, Ken Loach is trying ‘fresh stock’. The hero, Paul Brannigan, who has got a criminal record to complete his resume, is making his debut. Son of heroine addicts, Paul was sent to prison at the tender age of sixteen! Like Robbie, he too had a girl-friend and a kid in real life. He too was stuck with few prospects when Ken Loach approached him.

The film also celebrates Yin-Yang. One can feel it through the relationship between Robbie and his girl-friend Lionell (Siobhan Reilly). Just watch how she purifies him.

No wonder "Angels' Share" won the Jury Prize at Cannes in 2012.

After watching the film, one can’t help worrying about the sad plight of black teenagers, especially in the US . Give them quality education , the looting & killing at the streets will stop. Their mothers must be in perpetual agony. Think of them at least.

************

VIEW FROM THE GROUND - 2

‘Kestrel in the Gallery’

The ad shows an Arab king parking a falcon on his outstretched , gloved left hand. Its an air-line ad. You guessed it right! Only a proper owner can own and maintain a proper bird. A shehensha can keep an eagle, no-one lesser in status. 

Ken Loach’s most popular film “Kes” made in 1969 had to wait in limbo for several years for a full-fledged release. The film’s hero, a 14 year boy named Billy Casper hailing from an under-privileged background not only owns a Kestrel (falcon) but trains it too. He is a much unloved kid living in a miners’ village. He is considered as a perfect misfit at school and as a “hopeless case” by his single mother. In fact, she can’t care less as she is too busy going out and getting drunk with her boyfriends. Naturally Casper’s elder brother rules the broken home and he is a loutish bully.

At the school too, Casper is at the receiving end of hostilities. As in a class-biased education system, the teachers are unsympathetic. The students are subjected to a barrage of verbal abuse and corporal punishment on a daily basis. Unfortunately, Casper is not really articulate and hence cannot defend himself.

However, Billy Casper is certainly not an also-ran. He wants to say good-bye to school, by all means, but doesn’t want to end up as a coal-digger. He is a sensitive kid. He has got a rich inner life under-wraps. Luckily for him, Casper locates a kestrel at the nearby farm and he gently takes care of the bird. Kes is her name. Since falconry is the preserve of the elite, he doesn’t have any idea how to train Kes. He goes to the Library where he is turned back for want of right credentials. Undaunted, he makes a bee-line to a second-hand book-shop and steals the book.

Ken Loach’s brilliance is conspicuous in this characterization. Bill Casper is not larger-than-life. He has got all vulnerabilities of a normal kid.

What follows next is seen to be believed. Its not the text-book training of the bird. Its the bond between a human-being and another living being! There exists a perfect understanding between them. An example of treating everything with respect. 

A communion with Nature which the system has been denying Casper all the way is within his reach now. Suddenly his life has a purpose.

He has proved himself. He is articulate and brimming with energy.

Kes is more than just a pet, she is the symbol of Hope and Freedom.

The change in Casper is detected at least by one teacher, Mr.Farthing who goes straight to the shed where Kes is kept. The English teacher too is overwhelmed by the sacred bond between Man and Nature.

“I think she’s doing me a favour just letting me sit here and watch her”, he remarks.

Incidentally, Colin Welland who played Mr. Farthing is the only professionally trained actor in the whole cast. Rest of them, including David Bradley who donned the lead are facing the movie-camera for the first time.

Yes, Cinema- 24 frames per second - belongs to the Director, no doubt!

However, the tragedy is waiting.

The system, offended by Casper’s newly acquired freedom counter-attacks.

Kes, the symbol of Hope is killed by the elder brother. Brutally and without remorse.

Ken Loach leaves his viewer shell shocked and devastated.

I closed my eyes and just listened to the excellent music created by strings and flute.

I didn’t have the nerve to watch the goings on in the final scenes!

************

Note: The title is sourced from one of Jethro Tull’s albums “The Minstrel in the Gallery”

VIEW FROM THE GROUND

Understanding Rebellion

Right  from  "Battleship Potemkin",  one  can  name  a  series  of  movies whose central  theme  is  rebellion. These movies justifiably highlight injustice as the singular  cause for violence. However, Ken Loach's "The Wind that shakes the Barley" is  a  bit  different. Incidentally, this movie won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes in 2006.

The Hurling Match

You watch the opening scene. A game of hurling ( similar to hockey) is in progress in the Irish County named Cork. The year is 1920. A group of teenagers intolerant to cheating are fiercely immersed in the game. Suddenly the “Brutish” soldiers ,  demobilised ‘veterans’ from the World War nick named “Black & Tans” appear from nowhere and accost the players. They declare that there is a curfew in progress and hence the players should disband immediately. The ruffians went on to ask their names, occupation and address. The players obey the "Tans" but not willingly. Some of them give the reply in their Irish mother-tongue, Gaelic. One young chap is particularly stubborn and speaks only Gaelic. He is brutally assaulted and killed. 

Obviously, there is a culture divide between England and Ireland.  

It is horrifying to watch the torturing scenes. Gun-powder smoke and human blood ooze out from the screen from start to end.

In another scene the hero and anti-hero of the film, brothers Damian and Teddy O'Donovan are being tortured using a plier. Their finger nails are being pulled out. The Tans wanted to know where the fire-arms are stashed. Damian and Teddy are badly bruised but they don't utter a word. This undaunted response results from the  internal discipline and purity of a revolutionary. 

While they are being 'handled', comrades waiting outside the chamber burst into a Gaelic patriotic song and that does the magic. The batteries are recharged fully.

However, only by the end, we'll decide whether patriotism is a good feeling! In short, its not just inequity alone that gives rise to rebellion.

The Irish are heavily attached to their mother-land. There is nothing wrong with that but we must admit that  all sorts of attachments come with a tag. We get only the view from the ground. Never an aerial one. 

One has to read through the history of England and Ireland to find out the origins of mutual mistrust and hate.However, Ken Loach is a viewer-friendly director, he handles us with kid-gloves such that we are always siding with the underdogs. We never get alienated from the young guerrillas. In fact we feel like one among them!

No! We shift our loyalties  when  we see the killing of the 'informer' Cris Reily. He is a gullible and unsophisticated farm-hand , perhaps youngest of the lot. We see him in the beginning itself, during the hurling match. His character is revealed through his play. His mother regularly prepares food for the young fighters. Such a guy is shot at the heart point blank by none other than our hero,Damian. Cris says sorry for what he has done and faces death with dignity. 

Damian shoots Cris Reilly, the informer

Damian as well as his elder brother Teddy are no ordinary folks and they admire each other on that count. Damian is a bright student, quiet and mild-mannered. He is selected by a famous Medical School and after graduation he is to join a major hospital in London. This shy, studious character drops his plan to go to London and jumps into the thick of action. Okay, this may be believable. His brother Teddy, less than average in studies and aggressive,  is sent to the Seminary at the age of 12. Teddy returns as a rebel and joins the guerrillas. He is second (or third) in command. Fine, we can believe this too.

When the King and his politicians declare truce and enters into a treaty with the  IRA which 
70 % of the Irish people reject, our man Teddy sides with the oppressor. The story-line goes haywire from this point onwards. This can happen only in Indian masala films!

Damian refuses to get sold out, he says, " I tried not to get into this war and I did. Now I just can't back out".

Ah,its the familiar brother vs brother theme! 

You guessed it right. The younger brother is shot dead, again at point-blank range, with his hands and legs tied to a post.

Teddy arranges the killing of his younger brother.

 

Sinead, the long-time girl-friend of Damian shows the indomitable spirit of women. In fact she is the prime-mover and the driving force behind her lover.
You can watch how the yin-yang relationship strengthens each other.

You can also watch how the Church takes sides. It's sympathies are with the royalty and the priest threatens the faithfuls with excommunication. However, people are in no mood to listen.

"You are siding the rich" , they hit back and stage a walk-out.

The film is brilliantly scripted by Paul Laverty and the man behind the camera, Barry Ackroyd is more of a painter. There is an ethereal quality about the visuals. Needless to say, the interiors are illuminated by natural light.

Like all good films, "Barley" too works on many layers. The Irish saga connects us with the recent Iraq invasion in which Britain was a partner. The torture camps of Abu Gharib and Guantanamo springs up in mind.

Yes, history repeats itself.

Above all, one gets convinced about the futility of war.

"The Wind that shakes the Barley" is a war-film against war.

***********

 

THE FRAGILE MOUNTAIN - 2

Water Grab

Starting with "Water Wars" is sort of a cliché. We have  talked quite a lot about Oil Wars and see what followed. Practically nothing! However, we must admit that the Water Grab is much more grave just because of the simple fact that water is not infinite. We can live without petrol but not without drinking water! Only 2.5% of water on the surface of Earth is fresh water and out of that, less than 1% is accessible for human consumption.

No wonder any nation and its  people will be at their selfish best in usurping the commodity which belongs to all.Our country is no exception.

Tibet is the case-point here.

Tibetan plateau is the ultimate source of water for nearly 40% of the world's population!The plateau is the location of the single largest collection of international rivers in the world.Half the world depends on Mekong, the Brahmaputra,the Yangtse and the Yellow rivers for survival.

China is perhaps engaged in the greatest water-grab in history.I have a feeling that China annexed Tibet with the idea of exclusively owning this perennial water source. India also has got a stake in the Tibetan land but our position is weak. Half of our water comes directly from China.However, we played our card rather cleverly.We took approximately One Lakh refugees from Tibet and housed them at Dharmasala with their Head,the Dalai Lama and his Government in exile.I don't think it was an entirely altruistic gesture. In fact it was water-grab masquerading as Diplomacy.

The Dalai Lama,being a spiritual person will accept everything with a cheerful humility, no doubt.He will crack a few jokes and ask his people to grin and bear it!But, how can he wish away the quest for freedom, especially that of the younger generation? They too deserve quality life.The current pitiable situation is not of their making,not even remotely.

The scenario is not complete without taking Bangladesh into our fold.Just as China keeps India at the receiving end, we pass the buck and enjoy keeping Bangladesh on tenterhooks!We must remember that Bangladesh is a nation of 'subsistence farmers'. More than 80% of Bangladesh's 50 million small farmers depend on water that flows through India. Even a 10%  reduction in the water flow by India could dry out great areas of farmland for much of the year.

On top of water-grab, everybody, India, China, Bhutan, Nepal and Pakistan, all are  busy making huge dams in the fragile range of the Himalayas.A vast swathe of forest will be destroyed, thousands of livelihoods lost and and entire communities uprooted.

Over the next 20 years,the mountain range could become the most dammed (read 'damned') region in the world!

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THE FRAGILE MOUNTAIN

Developmental  Blues

Somewhere in the midst of our Himalayan sojourn, the sight of a river-crossing riveted my attention. A cable-car made of wood connected to both sides of the River Ganga by thin steel wire was being maneuvered by a small boy. The cradle-like contraption was full of his mates, all school-going children doing the crossing at seventeen feet height with great difficulty. The little navigator pulled the steel wire quite strenuously and eventually reached the other side. Oddly enough, half of the road had been washed away by the devastating floods, three years back. It was a painful sight to watch the kids touching the ground. 

Further up, a private company named Jayaprakash Power Ventures Ltd. was erecting a HEP (Hydro Electric Power) generating station which itself got partially washed away in 2013. However they were in no mood to wind up. How this HEP was going to affect the lives of those school children, I wondered. They would leave the school, I was sure, maximum at plus-Two level to take up farming. The home-grown farmer was sure to fail as his fields would be perennially starved for water.  The deforestation for mega projects resulted in soil erosion already. Agricultural land had been degraded. The water-table was at a much lower level due to “Run of the River” constructions. Water from the reservoir is channelized through ‘penstokes’ (pipes having extra large diameter ) to make the turbines rotate which are kept at the ground level. The water-flow through the river from the dam to the Generating Station is more or less blocked. The fragile ecology of the village is affected beyond repair. Blasting of the country side still goes on. Excavation is unabated. Heavy equipment and machinery constantly move through the crumbly roads sinking them further.  Obviously the roads are built with no Performance Guarantee and hence the quality of construction is far inferior. This is a major cause for landslides. The poor farmer is at peril throughout. The ability of his land to support vegetation is coming to naught (Desertification).

The livelihood issue is paramount because Himalayas are home to more than 10 % of India’s population. There are 15 crores people living in the mountains and foothills. About 30 crores people live in the adjacent plains. The total of 45 crores people is no small a figure. Moreover the rights of indigenous people are protected by the Constitution. Nobody can afford to ignore livelihood-issues.

The Unbearable Weight of Being !

 It is downright foolish to assume that the Himalayan geology can withstand any construction activity. The soil consists mainly of Mica on which no structure can be built safely. But, it’s a free-for-all going on at present.

There are a total of 400 HEPs envisaged in the Himalayan region generating a total of 1,60,000 MW. Uttarkhand on the Ganga basin alone has identified 70 odd HEPs with a total generating capacity of 10,000 MW. Ecology and Hydrology would be definitely affected.  In fact the massive power projects will not service the local people. That’s the saddest part. For the local populace to get benefited, the Government should build a network of small and micro HEPs (below 25 MW). Those SHEPs can be placed at load-centers, i.e., the place where there is maximum demand for electricity.  Long transmission lines are no more required in this set-up. Electricity can be distributed locally. The advantage is that there is a great reduction in Transmission and distribution loss. Together they account for 30 % of the electricity generated in our country. (Ideally it should not cross 12%).

The second developmental activity is the construction of roads. Roads are being constructed even upto the main gate of pilgrim centres. What’s the idea? Why no buffer zone?

On an average, there are 75 mountaineering expeditions, 25,000 trekkers and 2.5 crore pilgrims visit Gangotri glacier every year. They litter the whole place and never take back non-degradable items. Massive hotels are being constructed for them. However, home-stays are not promoted. We wanted to live in home-stays but couldn’t find any.

Everything for DEVELOPMENT’s sake.

Tail-piece

If you want to make an omelet, you got to break an egg.

That’s the problem, we need to question our desire for omelets.

If you break too many eggs, there will be no more omelets.

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THE BAREFOOT TRAVELER – 9

Adieu

We were going to wind-up. There was one more day left and we could have made it to Kedarnath through chopper-service.  We decided against. Such hurricane visit wouldn’t serve any purpose. Ideally, if you want to visit a place, you need to stay there for one week. We just had a feel of the Himalayas. And that’s not enough. We were going to come back.  Once bitten by the Himalayas, you keep coming back for the good.

We reached Hardwar. I wanted to meet Swami Samvidanand, a Facebook friend who is a new-gen Swami as per the avant-garde definition. He is a crusader for the fragile ecology not only at his home-turf, but in his home-state as well. He had planted saplings in school compounds from Kasargod to T’puram on a one-man-mission. He helped Sanal Kumar Sasidharan to have a foothold in the snow-covered landscape. The making of Oralppokkam would  have been difficult otherwise. I heard he was one with all such progressive movements. In fact we hadn’t met and I thought it would be better to encounter the activist-swami at his natural habitat. We reached his "hide-out" at an odd time, late in the evening! We were knocking at the huge Iron Gate of his ashram desperately. Nobody turned up. We were not going to stop as the multi-storied cement & concrete buildings and its inhabitants were getting on our nerves.

At last, a few conventionally dressed swamis showed their faces around. We enquired about Samvidanand.

He is chucked out, they said.

We didn’t ask them why. Instead, we played the PLU card.

See we’re coming all the way from Kerala……

They took us to the Head, Swami Narayandas.

His room resembled more like an office and he sat behind a table full of papers.

He was looking very sad like a father who had just lost his son.  Swamiji didn’t speak much.

We too kept mum.

I was remembering two lines from the “Viswaprarthana”.

Oh Brahman, the un-manifest, Let us perceive you in all natural elements (bhoota)

Let us honour you through our service to all living-beings.

All those inmates recite the prayer every morning but they are blissfully unaware of its meaning.

In essence, Spirituality is nothing but the practice of Selflessness and cultivation of Love.

Doing religious overhauls almost joylessly for a life-time and keeping austerities to the extent of harming one’s body is not going to make a spiritual person.  One does not have to keep aloof from the Society for that purpose. One must keep aloof from sensuality , rather.

Get purified from all sources  - from music, visual arts, travel, literature, history, science and even  from man-woman relationship. When you’re cleansed enough, the Guru appears. Jnana (Knowledge) happens. Throw away your conventional images about a Guru. Even a Sadguru (Perfect Master) could be doing the nine-to five grind.

Swami Vagbhatananda (1885 – 1939) of Kerala comes up with yet another model where a Sanaysi  shares the same mental wave-length with a revolutionary. He writes

“ഉണരുവിൻ, അഖിലേശനെ സ്മരിപ്പിൻ

ക്ഷണമെഴുന്നെൽപ്പിൻ അനീതിയോടെതിർപ്പിൻ”

(Wake up from your sleep, salute the Almighty

Get ready and start fighting against injustice)

  

There is a dire need to redefine spirituality.

I am back at Ayyappa  Temple, Haridwar in its Pilgrim’s Lodge.

Do I want to sum-up my Himalayan Sojourn?

Not really. Instead, I ask myself the question What do the Himalayas mean to you? 

Kishore Ranadiwe

Travel back in time and become a four year old child. You have lost your dearest toy – a handball made out of coconut leaves. You’re crest-fallen and sick. The body temperature is running high. You find yourself on an uncomfortable bed under an old blanket. Suddenly you’re picked up by two strong hands. You are securely placed on somebody’s shoulders. The handball is back in your right hand.

“Don’t worry, everything will be alright” a soft but firm voice reassures ....

You feel immensely relieved. All your fears and anxieties are put to rest.

Your left hand encircles a friendly neck. You close your eyes.

Kindly accept my respects, Himavan.

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THE BAREFOOT TRAVELER – 8

Rishikesh

Time to bid adieu to Badri Vishal. We started off to Rudraprayag at 7.30 am. The place is famous for Rudraksha trees. Rudraksha beads are available ranging from Rs.150 to Rs.41 lakhs. The costliest one is having 21 faces (I don’t know what exactly it means). Former Srilankan President Mahinda Rajapakshe desperately wanted to buy one prior to the last general election and he got it finally from T’puram for Rs. 40 lakhs. The Rudraksha is the harbinger of peace and fortune and the seller informed me that ekmukhi (single faced rudraksha) is often sourced from Kerala. Each one costs Rs.2500/-. We had purchased original 108 beaded rudraksha-mala for bargain-less price at Rs. 400/- each. Now, friends and relatives had reason enough to be happy.

We had a brief stop-over at Joshimatt. Adi Shankaracharya had set up one of his five mutts there. The mutts were intended to be Centers of Excellence, each in its own right where brahmacharis (young students) were always learning and disseminating sacred texts.  Sadly enough, present day Mutt is almost defunct with no intellectual activity going on. A few brahmacharis were loitering around who pounced on us literally to sponsor poojas. We were asked to squat on the floor, in front of a small shiv-ling in a half-circle. The senior Brahmachari recited various ashtakams and we repeated it utterly wrong. The young sanyasis-in-the -making were least bothered. A couple of poojas in quick succession and we decided to wind it up unilaterally. Taking the long and winding road downhill, we inquired about the Paramacharya (The Head). We were told that he was on his way to participate the Kumbh (a major religious festival) leaving the controls with the apprentices.

We were moving towards Rishikesh. There was the felt need of a night-shelter. Rajan took us again to a shady place which was going to charge us exorbitantly. We refused point-blank. As a result, we had to hit the road, deserted after dinner-time. Darkness, thick as a blanket, was spread all over. Suddenly it started raining, heavily.  We felt as if we were traveling in a space-shuttle. No-one spoke. We were to press the panic button but Rajan cared a damn.

 Another fifteen kilo-meters and we started seeing the lights of Rishikesh through the rain. It was an immense relief. Like a ship-wrecked crew seeing the not-so-distant shores suddenly by the sight of air-borne birds.

Finally at Rishikesh,  the westernized town  and we checked into a decent hotel. The next morning we were going to take bath in Ganga in its lonely splendor! Eighteen kilometers away, she spread herself on the vast plains, one of the safest locations for bath! Colorful stones  were spread all over the place and you could collect them to distribute among your folks.

Rishikesh - putting you at ease

I took a whole-hearted bath while sun was rising. The water was not just flowing outside my body. It was flowing through me. Obviously the most refreshing bath I had ever taken.

By the bank, Swami Harichandra Purushottamji had built  his ashram and that was the reason why the whole river was deserted. It was a private Ganga flowing! We visited Swamiji. He was a Malayalee, from Omallur and had set up the ashram sixty years back. He owned a school, a hospital and other gadgets for social-service, managed by a trust. The Guest House that he built way up, boasted of inmates like Dr.A.P.J. Abdul Kalam and a private road  connected it with the Ashram .  Honestly, rooms with a (holy) view! When the devastating floods caught them unawares, Swami and his men ran up to safety. The Ashram was almost submerged in no time with water and sand.

Swami had an accident in Feb. 2015 at the Ashram premises and he broke his leg. Seven months later, he was still bedridden when we met. In spite of that, he was all fun and innocence.

I have all those jokers except Diabetes, he declares.

He gave us roasted cashew nuts to eat.  Before finishing with it, Swami’s Manager Misraji from Lucknow butt in to announce the arrival of a well-heeled Malayali family from Bangalore. We were edged out.

Undeterred, we proceeded to visit Vasishta Gufa. The place was amazingly serene with oil lamps trying hard to keep the darkness at bay. The silence itself was communicating! The ambiance, so relaxed! We felt as if everything around us was a single entity impregnated with life.  There was a tiny Shiv Ling at the far-end on a rock platform. Somebody had just left doing Pooja.

Diyas, fresh flowers, incense and an undulating energy field.

We really felt like meditating. Yes, we did.

The high-point of my Himalayan sojourn was the gufa experience, I must say.

Laxman Jhoola

We went back to Rishikesh and strolled around the town till evening. Only Laxman Jhoola impressed me.  It saddened me too. The British engineers were given full credit for the 240 ft span, jeep-able second suspension bridge over Ganga. Even the Supervisor’s name was mentioned in the plaque. The kind-hearted King who built the original bridge of 284 feet span, Rai Bahadur Surajmal Jhunjhunwala who ruled circa 1920 was not found worth-mentioning. The bridge was a gift to his subjects. Unfortunately, the bridge got washed away by the great flood of October 1924 which undermined the left abutment. A new bridge was sponsored by the King’s son Rai Bahadur Shewpershad Tulshan and was built by the British engineers during 1927-29.

The cost of rebuilding this new bridge as nearly as possible on the site of the old bridge had been contributed by Rai Bahadur Junior to perpetuate the memory of his father and no toll or tax was ever imposed.

 

Ganga-Arati at Rishikesh

It was time for the Ganga Arati. One and a half hour long Arati started at 6.30 pm. We reached the place at 6.00 pm itself and found the river-side steps almost full. People of all ages, all origins were floating paper-boats with lighted diyas, incense-sticks and flowers on the River. With utmost care and patience. It was touching to see the aged couples helping each other to light the diyas, gently taking it to Gangama and releasing them. Lovers too launching their dream-boats together. Some of the boats got overturned in the no-so-gentle current.

Suddenly the music started. Different young sanyasi groups, probably brahmacharis were singing excellent bhajans at the mandap (permanent stage), one after another. Somebody had lighted the havan (sacred bonfire) in front of the singers and people bursting out into dancing!  Everything had an order. My son held me tight to prevent his father from joining!

Toward the end, everybody stood up and recited the mangal-arati together. Camphor was ignited.

My mind was full as a cloudless sky. Or was it empty, soonya?

I didn’t know. 

Perhaps both were the same.

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                                                                                                     Photo credits: R.Jayakumar

THE BAREFOOT TRAVELER - 7

Mana, the last village

After Badri Vishal darshan, we had a quick break-fast at an expensive joint overlooking the temple,  Masala Dosa at its worst! The small town was already alive with pilgrims and sanyasis.  Dogs were moving around freely. Sanyasis were smoking cannabis squatting on a concrete platform at the landing of the bridge over Ganga. Anybody was welcome. However, people were rather disinterested.

 By the time we reached Adwaita Bhavan, Veena Sahasrabuddhe was diffusing through the air, her highs poignant…. her lows gentle and sure, creating a mood of serenity. A desktop PC at the office room was the source and I found no one there.  A couple of minutes later, a tall, unfriendly sanyasi barged in with his jada (hair) like a blasted nebula, donning a designer cloak made of jute. Obviously he had spent the previous night in the open. The desktop belonged to him with its 76 GB of outstanding music. I asked him whether I could copy the music but he didn’t utter a word. He must be in arya maun (observing noble silence), I consoled myself. Later I gathered that he was Ajit Chaitanya, a medical doctor working in Germany who quit his job to become a sanyasi.  He was a Keralite, from Palakkad. Swami transferred 3 GB of music into my mobile memory card.

We started off to Mana, the last village of India situated at the China/Tibet border. Sadly enough, one of the rear wheels got punctured and we had to set it right. The belated start did affect our planning, we couldn’t follow the Mahaprastana route of the Pandavas. (The warrior-kings of the epic Mahabharata who after winning the war against their cousins, got convinced that nothing really mattered). Mana was just three km away from Badrinath. There was an arch welcoming the visitor to the village and one had to park the vehicle outside. There were only walkways inside the village, crisscrossing the whole place with tiny houses on both sides.  These hutments had a small backyard where the villagers grew vegetables and potatoes.

Sunil Gala was waiting at the entrance offering his services as Guide for Rs.300. Rajan asked him for Guide’s license and he was infuriated. In fact he was from the village itself, pursuing an industrial training course elsewhere. Young people who could roughly understand English had turned impromptu guides. Sunil felt insulted for being asked about his credentials in his own village by an outsider.

Nandu with Sunil

According to Sunil, the entire Mana village was inhabited by the descendants of a Mongolian tribe called Rongpa and there were 180 families of them in the village. The total population was around 600. They live in Mana for six months, i.e., from May to October and when the snow-fall starts, Rongpas make a bee-line to Chamoli, a beautiful village 100 km away. They come back after six months when the Badrinath temple re-opens.

Vyasa Gufa

We were climbing up a small mountain towards Vyasa Gufa (cave), from where we thought we could see the China/Tibet border. That was not to be. From the cave, it was a steep climb upwards. Dead –end! Unless you were trained in mountaineering, getting at the top would be impossible. The border was 24 km away from the place.  Moreover, Indian Army had its strong presence camped further up.

The gufa and surroundings were well-kept, with no litters. The legend says Vyasa wrote the epic Mahabharata sitting at this cave. He chose Lord Ganesha as his stenographer due to the elephant headed god’s sharp intellect and ability to capture every utterance with his elephantine ears.

Adjacent to Vyasa gufa, there was a small tea-shop 3200 m above sea-level, made hodge-podge, declaring to the rest of the world about its uniqueness. According to the sign-board, the joint was the last Tea-shop of India. Immediately we thought of having tea, standing at the entrance to get photographed! Later, we came to know that there were at least three “last tea shop of India” situated at various dead-ends.

The last tea-shop of India

We stretched ourselves under the trees. There was certain stillness in the air. It was time to climb down.

We saw Ganesh gufa too, much smaller in size where the writing part of the epic was done.  While the Lord was at work, River Saraswati in a playful mood flooded and snatched away the writing instrument! Undeterred, Ganesha broke one of his tusks and continued with the assignment! Vyasa got immensely furious and cursed the River to vanish from earth. Saraswati became persona non grata.

River Saraswati at her source

We did a site visit and checked her status. The origin was still intact. You would be spellbound seeing her gushing out from a cave in full force. You were standing on “Bheem pul “, the single-rock-bridge believed to be made by one of the Pandava brothers, Bheema in the Mahaprastana (journey to heaven after renouncing everything) route. You could even reach out and touch Saraswati from the bridge. Strangely enough, water at the downstream side was surprisingly calm. Saraswati had become a non-entity and flowed quietly ahead for three hundred odd meters to join Alakananda at the sangam (confluence).

Saraswati at sangam-  View from Bhim Pul

As per our micro-plan, we’ve had to tread five km further up (along the Mahaprastana route) to take bath at Vasudhara waterfalls. The water line, is so thin that it always fluctuated according to the wind-force. Trekking 25 km up, there exists the abode of legendary Himalayan Sanyasis, said to be living perennially. They have ashrams by the banks of Sadopanth Lake. The enigmatic Saint Babaji, believed to be 400 years old, is said to be living there!

We decided to return, anyway!

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