Genda Phool

"Himanshu kya chahta hai?" is scrawled across the wall of Himanshu Verma's living room at his home in Press Enclave. It's a question that has immense relevance with this 29 year old "art curator." Dressed in various shades of orange, he greets us and offers us chai. His room is in various stages of chaos and is a window to a life constantly in a state of flux.
Verma is the founder of Red Earth, an organisation that specialises in curating visual art exhibitions, art festivals and connecting with people through innovative mediums like talks, performances and workshops.
Himanshu recently organised a Basant Panchami walk from Lodi road to Nizamuddin on 19th January without much advertising drew a crowd of 60 eager revelers. They sang songs, danced, did Saraswati Puja and had a special "yellow" lunch.
At his house in we see a man is weaving genda phool(marigold) into a garland. "They are my favourite", Himanshu tells us. He fell in love with the song "genda phool" from the movie Delhi 6 and has ever since been planning to start a Genda Phool Plantation Project. An incident, he says that convinced him about the vitality of the flower, was the fact that it spontaneously grew in a compost heap he had created. "The flower is a symbol of everything good and positive in life. It's a recurring icon in our culture", says Himanshu. Playfully twirling a single bud in his hand, he tells us about his plans of forming a project team that would get in touch with RWA's in Delhi and plant his favourite flower and beautify the city. He criticizes the current form of beautification drive by the Delhi government just before the Commonwealth Games and calls it "monstrous and nasty." He shows us an article and a photograph of the flower market in Old Delhi that is tobe demolished to "prettify" the area.
Seemingly attracted to environmental causes, he feels that one way to make the layman care more for the environment is by talking about art and culture rather than preaching about slogans as done by most NGOs. Himanshu however, hates being called a "conservationist". He is the man behind the very successful "Monsoon Festival" that has been taking place in the city for the last four years. This festival features many events like exhibitions, readings, films, music and theatre on the theme of monsoon.
Himanshu has made an initiative of involving school children in his projects by organising guided tours during HaryaliTeej, Basant Panchami and Janmashtami to make them come face to face with their cultural heritage.
As an art curator, he says, business is not as good as it was before recession took over worldwide in 2008. "But at least this ensured that only the truly good talent survived." he says, " I am not particularly worried as I basically believe my life is all about naach-gaana, khaana-peena, rang, puja, phool, sringar pehnava etc.( dance, music, eating drinking, colour, worship, flowers, style and dressing up)", he sums up, with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.
(This article was written along with Somya Lakhani)

Overcoming his troubled past, blind boy reaches finals of International Informatics Olympiad

"I love challenges. The harder the better"

I want to prove myself. I love challenges, the harder, the better." These are not the words of a regular teenager. Then again, Arvind Malik is not an ordinary 16 year old. Completely blind since birth, Arvind, a resident of the National Association for the Blind (NAB) defied not only his disability, but also, the actions of an uncaring school to reach the finals of the International Informatics Olympiad.
Life for Arvind has not been easy. A student at St. Mary's, Delhi from classes 6th to 9th, his years at the school resulted in once bright and cheerful boy becoming reserved and quiet. Unintentionally having taken help from his writer, he was accused of cheating in an exam and as a consequence, lost an entire academic year. "They asked me if my writer had helped me. I said yes. They punished me for telling the truth." This setback did not deter him. His subsequent admission to Salwan Public School, according to him was what gave him a "new direction in life."
The school's Principal, Mrs. Vandana Puri has been "an inspiration" for Arvind. "I enjoy going to school. It was here that I learnt HTML and MS Access within a span of just 10 days." He says. Constantly encouraged by his teachers, he mustered courage to participate in the Informatics Olympiad held in November 2009. "The questions they asked were pretty simple". With the finals due on Feb 4th 2010, Arvind is planning his routine accordingly, putting in extra hours for coaching classes organised by the school.
Arvind has not been at NAB his entire life. Originally a student of Sharp Memorial School, Arvind came to Delhi in the 6th standard. His parents, Rev. Mushtaque Malik and Rev. Neeram Malik had come across the NAB during one of their trips to Delhi.
Always a smart student, Arvind struggled initially. Shanta Rangarajan, an English teacher at the NAB who taught Arvind in the 6th and 7th standards said, "Arvind was reluctant to use the plastic Braille slates as he was used to the two - grid wooden ones earlier."
Blindness is no longer an impediment to this ever-so-cheerful adolescent.
He's excited when he tells us about his maiden trip outside Delhi, all by himself to Dehradun in a train. "I was scared, but my parents were even more worried. Now, however, they trust that nothing will happen to me. " he says with a smile.
He loves to read and enjoys Shakespeare's 'Julius Caesar'. Mohammed Rafi is his favourite singer. "His voice has a lot of feeling." He says. His ambition in life is to reach out to those deprived of proper schooling.
Arvind along with his parents and teachers, attributes his achievements to his strong religious faith. As we are preparing to leave, he said, his favourite piece of poetry was one by Jagjit Singh.
Meri rooh Khuda mein magan hain ,
Jaan meri Najat se khush hai.
Mere sar ko usne buland kiya,
Ab kaun hain mera uske siva.."
(My soul is foccussed on God. I rejoice in the freedom of my life. He has raised my lowered head . Who else do I need besides him?)

(This story was written along with Shalini Narayan)

Delhi's decides to give its fitness resolutions the cold shoulder

In a rather cold January, Mind proves no match for Matter.
Gyming in January is generally a crowded affair While during the rest of the year, one sees a few, regular, familiar faces pumping iron and pounding the treadmill, January is the month that has large numbers of recruits joining, feeling the burn and then subsequently quitting.This lemming like behaviour can be associated with the resolution making fever that develops around the New Year period. There is something about the start of each year that makes people try to reform their habits and enact a lifestyle change. Perhaps due to the fat gained partying and holidaying over the New Year, one of the most common resolutions is to get fit. Gyms cash in, promising hopefuls 6 pack abs and shapely pecs. "We usually see a boost of 30 to 40 percent in new memberships in this (New Year) period as compared to other months" says Sangeeta Bist, Centre Manager at Esporta, R K Puram. Similar numbers exist for gyms in Mumbai.
It's 6 in the evening on January 18th at Esporta, rush hour by gym standards. There are just four persons working out in the 10000 sq ft gym where monthly memberships go for Rs.5000. It's a bizarre sight, but one that's common in gyms across the capital this year."Forget about new memberships, even our pre-existing customers are missing sessions. Our daily walk-in number is down to 40 from 120 in other months"says Sangeeta Bist of Esporta. A similar story is repeated at Fitness Core at Vasant Vihar, Gold’s in Rohini and Talwalkars in GK-2 market.Sangeeta blames it on the cold weather-the temperature is around 13 degrees or several degrees below normal at the time I spoke to her. "Its so cold that people don't want to get out of their beds. Even in the evenings people would rather go straight home than work out" "But the gym is heated" I say. "Arre, but par thand me hi to aana padtha hai naa?(they have to come in the cold right?)" she retorts.
The gym floors are unheated and consequently emptier at the Muscle Beach Gym in Munirka. A lone man is cranking out his reps on the bench press machine. His breath turns white in the cold basement. "Only the true hard - core fitness junkies will come these days" says Akash Thakur a trainer.Of course there are those who seethe positive side of the situation. "Usually the floor is crowded with new comers this time. Most have no idea how to gym. So it's good to have some space to do your own thing. I don't have to wait for my turn on the equipment" said Neeraj the lonely gym rat training at Muscle Beach.

Management however, is not taking January’s low turn out too seriously. I came across no special offers or discounts in the gyms I visited although centre managers at ESPORTA and Gold’s said that they offer counselling to hold on to existing customers. A trainer at Fitness Core,Vasant Vihar who wished to remain anonymous said "Right now its really cold, but as soon as people start to notice that tyre building up around their belly they are going to come. People like to come at the start of a month, so I’m guessing things will pick up from the first of February." Äkash, trainer at the spartan Muscle Beach gym scoffs at such spinelessness anddismisses the entire concept of New Year fitness resolutions. "Those who do come here on the basis of New Year resolutions don't last. If twenty such people show up on day one, I can expect only one or two to become regulars" he grunts.

Kotla ka kabootarbaaz

People say Kabootarbaazi is a dying sport. One man seems to think otherwise

Every afternoon at around 12.30, a flock of pigeons cover the sky over the Indian Express building. Simultaneously you hear a skinny man standing on a temple terrace, calling out to the birds, whistling to them and gesturing wildly. The pigeons almost instinctively know when to return and when to fly back. The entire spectacle lasts for almost an hour and is repeated every day.
The man in question is Madan Lal, a temple priest at the Valmiki mandir in Kotla. He says he has been practising kabootarbaazi for 40 years, an art he picked up from his father. Kabootarbaazi was once associated with royalty. The Mughals and the Nawabs of Awadh indulged in the art of racing pigeons as a pastime. Primarily prevalent in Delhi, Agra and Lucknow, the exponents of this art is now a dying breed.
It's a rare sight today and that's why we walk up the mandir stairs to meet this kabootarbaaz. Madan Lal flaunts his collection of 50-60 pigeons. His pigeons are not the plump grey-blue ones sitting on rooftops. They are instead bred for speed. Bought from Agra and Lucknow, the birds are exotic both in physique and colour. From the brown jarad, the pony-tailed black chotidaar to the white tailed kabuli, Madan Lal keeps them all and loves them like his "children".
His brother is sitting in one corner making "aatte ki goli"with ghee and almond water as Madan Lal shows his favourite pigeon of them all. All white with colourful tiny bangles (baane) tied on his feet; Masakkali is a slender necked, arrogant looking pretty pigeon. His feet are tied so that he doesn't fly away. A price he has to pay for being his keeper's favourite.
In between sips of tea, Madan Lal tells us that these pretty birds cost something between Rs.200- Rs.7000. "I have never sold my pigeons and I never will." he says firmly.
All the pigeons have been fed and they have had their share of freedom for the day and are ready to return to their home, a huge green coloured cage lying on the terrace. Some rebel, hop and fly a little and reluctantly follow their peers, except one. Its then that Madan Lal brings out a pair of brown jarad pigeons, kept away from the rest as the female-pigeon is pregnant. The male pigeon walks protectively around her, bobbing his head as he escorts her back to their resting place. "Yeh bezubaan hai magar phir bhi kitna pyaar dikhta hai (They can't talk but they still manage to show so much love)", says Madan Lal.
We climb down the stairs and promise Madan Lal photographs of his pigeons. He smiles returning to that one pigeon who longs to be free.

(This article was written along with Somya Lakhani)