Varanasi Ganga Mahotsav- a perfect tourism promotion event

The Ganga Mahotsav in Varanasi on Nov 8-9, 2011 was a treat to watch, and a reason by itself for someone to visit Varanasi. This is an annual tourism promotion event organized by the Government of India, in partnership with U.P. Tourism. The four-day open-air event on the bank of the river ends a day before Kartik Purnima (the full moon day of the 7th month of the Hindu calender) and the and Dev Deepavali festival, with the best of the events scheduled in the last two days. This creates an opportunity to showcase local culture to the large number of Indian and foreign tourists and pilgrims who congregate in Varanasi for the special day ahead. The traditional games are scheduled during daytime, while the evening is for cultural events involving some of the best exponents of India. A number of traditional games were scheduled on 8th- the day I reached. Boat race, pony race and kite flying events were scheduled at different locations. I rushed to the nearest venue at RPG just in time to see some amazing examples of “pehlwani” (traditional exercise regimen of body-builders and wrestlers) that Varanasi is famous for. Two famous pehlwans competed to rotate two huge conical weights (locally called “Jodi”), each looking like a truncated cone and weighing 22 kilograms each! The special variation of the equipment used in this case was called “kaantewali Jodi” (mace with nails) and the people who can twirl these around their head and shoulders are becoming rare even in Varanasi. The pehlwan who won performed 30 rotations of both hands with these massive weights in each. The one who lost did it 27 times.
I would be buried and stapled to the ground if I tried doing this even once! But then, these strong men go through a rigorous training, healthy diet and regimented lifestyle for a long time to reach this level. India had a glorious past in wrestling- the 60s was the golden decade in which India won several medals in Asian and Commonwealth games. It was also a popular fitness regime in the cities. Even Rabindranath Tagore had a wrestling teacher named Kana Pehlwan. The emcee was heard lamenting on the microphone that the reason for decline of the sport is the fascination of the young generation with cricket. After the pehelwan show, a bunch of young boys performed a delightful show of Malkhamb. This is a traditional Indian sport in which gymnast(s) performs feats and poses in concert with a vertical wooden pole or rope. Three tables of decreasing surface area were stacked and balanced on glass bottles. The top-most table had the pole which could rotate on its vertical axis. Five boys did some amazing formations on the pole. It was a treat to watch them gracefully positioned on the pole, the one on the top balancing himself on his stomach and the others gripping the pole with their hand or feet, and turning the pole slowly to present a 360 degree view of the entire formation. Not once did the entire structure, delicately balanced on glass bottles, topple over. The audience for all this was senior officials from the state and police administration, along with hundreds of locals and tourists cheering the performers. The venue was an amphitheatre-style section of the Rajendra Prasad Ghat adjoining the main Dasaswamedh Ghat. The river provided a beautiful backdrop for the event. In the evening, the venue transformed itself in to a perfect cultural concert stage.

From 8 pm till 11 pm, India’s leading exponents of dance, classical vocal, sarod and santoor performed on 8th and 9th. Kathak dance performance by Ravishankar Mishra and Mataprasad Mishra and santoor recital by Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma were big attractions. The open-air ambience and the appreciation of the large and discerning audience (mixed equally between foreign tourists and local visitors made the event truly memorable.

Varanasi Trip- Train Travel Tales

I am a citizen and resident of India- urban bred and generally privileged. I had heard that there are two countries residing in the same geographical space- India and Bharat. I started my sojourn of the social and religious festivals of India last year at the Kumbha Mela with an objective of exploring the soul of Bharat- through people-centric experience at these events. The 3-day Ganga Mahotsav (mega festival centered around the river Ganga) in Varanasi, culminating in the Dev Deepavali (God’s festival of lights) celebration on Kartik Purnima (full moon day of the 7th month of the Hindu calendar, coinciding with November-December of the English calendar), which this year was on November 10th, seemed to be the perfect opportunity for this year. So, I trawled the internet for background information on the oldest living city of the world that is Varanasi, and its older incarnation- Kashi. The outcome was a seven-page background note for the trip, including two pages on food- if you know me, you won’t be surprised at this. Some people eat to live, some others live to eat.


My people experience began earlier than I bargained for. The Doon Express had an unmistakable Varanasi destination profile, with foreign passengers starting to arrive at the platform. They arrived in small groups, but started to coalesce and ended up with a group of about a dozen men and women. Surely they had booked through a common travel agent or site, as their seats were assigned together too. I had talked to a sub-group of three when we were pouring over the reservation chart. The gentleman from France, sporting a large tribal design pendant and a saffron scarf with Ohm splattered all over it, said he keeps visiting India for the “people experience”, and this time he has brought his niece and her friend with him. They had stayed in a tribal village in Koraput district of Orissa for three weeks before heading for Varanasi. We had a nice conversation before heading for our coach when the train arrived. However his group members didn’t turn out to be quite as decent. Soon after the train started moving at 9 pm, the group started having “fun” and the celebration got louder as the night progressed. The secret of the exuberance was thinly concealed in the glass of “cola” they were sipping. Past 10 pm, some of them felt an urgent need for music, and connected an i-Pod with a portable speaker. The coach attendant and the ticket examiner of the coach were heard grumbling among themselves but dared not throw the rulebook at them. Around 11 pm, I stood up to use the bathroom and had to cross the party zone. My friend the Frenchman was seen resting in peace in his berth, but a brash young guy with a few ladies was keeping the pot boiling. Evidently the spiritual destination did not make me a philosopher yet, because I decided to confront the leader of the pack and ask why he was drinking, playing music loudly and whether he was aware of the railway travel rules. His answer was he is drinking a cola, smell if any is coming from somewhere else through the air-conditioning duct and he is not disturbing others as no one else is complaining. His dismissive and arrogant attitude sparked a late night parliamentary talent in me. The ticket examiner meanwhile had shuffled up behind me and nodded his head vigorously whenever I needed an affirmative nod from him. After a few minutes of loud and fast paced conversation on his knowledge of Open Container Law in his own country, and a politely threatening request for him to calm down and be more sensitive, his party was spoilt and the lights finally dimmed. The coach attendant and an Indian co-passenger later thanked me for standing up and dealing with the issue.
The rest of the journey was otherwise uneventful, except for constant movement of short-distance passengers which you should expect in a train that has multiple stops through states like Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. The only other interesting episode happened when the train reached Mughal Sarai the next morning. The train stops here for about half an hour. A few minutes before arrival, I was intrigued to see our coach attendant moving around wearing only a gamcha (Indian hand-woven towel). As soon as the train stopped, he quickly hopped out of the train from the non-platform side of the train, pulled out a hose that is used to refill water in the train toilets, and started bathing like an elephant, right under my window. It was certainly a regular affair, as he perfectly timed his shower, and even used a soap and worked out profuse amount of lather. When the train was about to roll again, he was back in the compartment, dressed and fresh as a daisy.

Arrived at Varanasi Junction at 11 am, hopped on to a rickshaw and headed on towards the old city in search of a hotel with basic amenity before embarking on the floatel of spirituality. More on that in the following posts.

From India to Bharat- Ram Ramapati Bank in Varanasi

On the first day of my trip to Varanasi on the occasion of Kartik Purnima-Dev Deepavali in November 2011, I visited the Ram Ramapati Bank, located at D-5/35 Tripura Bhairavi, Dasaswamedh, Varanasi 221001. This was located inside the famously labyrinthian alleys of Varanasi, within walking distance of the main Dasaswamedh Ghat and very close to the Vishwanath Temple. I learnt about this unique spiritual institution when doing my research on Varanasi. Run for over eighty years as a family initiative, the Bank does not deal with money. All that an account holder has to do is scribble Lord Ram's name in red ink 125,000 times on paper and keep it as a “deposit” with the Bank. At a rate of 500 per day, the task is scheduled to be completed exactly in 8 months and 10 days. The clientele of over 100,000 is spread over different states of India and also U.S., Canada and West Indies. After the sacred scribble is deposited by a particular account holder, the Bank carries out a series of rituals that are aimed to bring prosperity and good luck to his life. The Bank even gives a loan till the time an account holder writes Lord Ram's name the required number of times and returns the paper. Then the loan is considered repaid. The account holder has to deposit all the sacred scribble within eight months and 10 days from the date of sanctioning of the loan. There are other conditions, such as taking a bath before the scribbling. Account holders are also required to shun non-vegetarian food, onion and garlic during the entire period. The Bank does not charge a penny for its service, rather it even provides the paper and pen. It does not have a sign board outside, and is clearly publicity-averse. However, everyone seemed to know the place when I asksed for directions.

When I sheepishly walked in to the traditional Benarasi style house, I was cordially welcomed by the Manager. He was seated in a thin mattress on the ground, which covered half of the large room. I left my shoes outside the room and tentatively sat on the edge of the mattress. I was advised to climb in and seat inside the mattress with my legs folded. This was the traditional seating arrangement in most homes at one time. The walls had several large photos depicting scenes from Lord Ram’s life, and there was a Ram temple in one corner of the room.
He asked for my whereabouts, explained the functioning of the Bank and then very kindly invited me to the inner courtyard of the house to see the Bank’s “vault” where thousands of prayers by the faithful account holders are safely kept, neatly wrapped in red cloth bundles. He then arranged for the temple to be opened and allowed me a darshan of Ramlalla (Lord Ram’s childhood incarnation). He even allowed me to take photographs of the place. At the end of the conversation, he gave me a rulebook written in Hindi, a simple account opening form and gifted me a packet of “pavitra roli” (fine red vermillion powder, used to mark foreheads as a sign of religiosity). He said with firm conviction that if I say Raam naam ten times every morning and apply the roli on my forehead, it will protect me from all dangers.

I went to Varanasi to explore the soul of India. Hailing from a society where religiosity is primarily in the private domain, bold acts of religious faith are scarce and philanthropy is usually on a timid many-to-one mutual-fund style model (subscription for community puja, private domantions to one or two large humanitarian institutions and contribution to Chief Minister's relief fund), this uniquely bold model of one family coming forward to strengthen the roots of faith for thousands of people on a selfless basis for nearly a century impressed and enriched me. I witnessed more examples of this model in the next day of Kartik Purnima (first full moon day after Diwali; on the 7th month of the Hindu calender) when many of the commercial restaurants ran Bhandaras (free meals) for the millions of pilgrims who convered in the city for a dip in the river on this auspicious day. This was my perfect introduction to the spirituality of this oldest living city of the world.

Unsung heros- clay idol makers of Kolkata

Kumortuli. The name of the place in Bengali language means a potter's quarters. But the potters of this place in the last few generations have transcended the traditional boundaries of pottery to become artisans and creators, re-creating Hindu mythology through idols. Their creation is a freeze of the most dramatic moment of a mythological episode or a portrayal of the divinity of Hindu Gods and Goddesses in their traditional form. The explosion of nonchalant creativity that unfolds in front of the eyes of the uninitiated in a visit to this place, particularly in the busy idol-making sessions such as August-October, is mind-boggling. Like several other bloggers, photo-journalists, heritage conservationists and Kolkata-lovers, I am a big fan of this place. My interest in this place ties in very well to my larger interest in Kolkata's history, heritage and people-centric experience which makes this city unique in the milieu of other mega-cities of the world. I hereby devote this blog to the wonderfully talented artisans and craftsmen of Kumortuli area in Kolkata.

Dr. John Holwell was an employee of the English East India Company who was appointed Zamindar (landlord and tax-collector) of the Twentyfour Parganas District of Bengal. He later became a temporary Governor of Bengal (1760) as a successor of Robert Clive and was a survivor of the Black Hole tragedy of Calcutta in June 1756. When the British started building Fort William in 1758, he allotted ‘separate districts to the Company’s workmen.’ These neighborhoods in the heart of the Indian quarters acquired the work-related names – Patuapara (locality of traditional painters) Suriparah (the place of wine sellers), Collotollah (the place of oil men), Chuttarparah (the place of carpenters), Aheeritollah (cowherd’s quarters), Coomartolly (potters’ quarters) and so on. The potters of Kumortuli, who fashioned the clay from the river beside their home into pots to be sold at Sutanuti Bazar (later Burrabazar), managed to survive in the area. Gradually they took to making the images of gods and goddesses, worshipped in large numbers in the mansions all around and later at community pujas in the city and beyond. I found a wonderful research on the history, tradition and its significance and practices of Kumortuli artisans and clay images of West Bengal done by Dr. Jim Robinson (DPhil, Oxford University)over three months at site in: http://www.clayimage.co.uk/

Today's Kumortuli comes accross as the unreserved compartment in an otherwise reservation-based long distance train. The main settlement is along Banamali Sarkar Street in north Kolkata. The western boundary of the place, marked by the river, has remained largely unchanged; while the other peripheries have changed quite dramatically in the last three centuries. The urban sprawl of Kolkata is clearly evident all around the settlement of the 150-odd artisan families. The Kumortuli modernization project, worth Rs.260 million, planned under the Jawaharlal Nehru Urban Renewal Mission, is moving at a slow pace. According to the project blueprint, the urban authority will construct houses for the artisans over five acres of land in the Kumortuli area on the ground-plus-three-floors pattern. It will also build an art gallery for artisans to showcase their artefacts. Currently, some artisans have been relocated to a temporary space in a warehouse. But many artisans are still operating from their decrepit quarters, often spilling in to the streets and living under leaking roofs. They make the idols for a variety of festivals round the year, but Durga Puja in October is the most important event. Kumortuli images are generally ordered well in advance and there a few for off-the-shelf sale. Nowadays, Kumortuli’s clientele has extended to North America, Europe, Africa and even Australia, among the Indian communities living there.





I like to visit the temporary workshop on Rabindra Sarani, since it provides a great view of the works by various artisans under one roof, and it is possible to see the images in various styles, stages of finish and even components. For example, you will find a number of the heads- all looking exactly the same, which are probably cast in moulds and left to dry. It is unique to see semblance of mass production in an otherwise skill-based operation. But about 80 percent of the work is still hand-made by the artisans. Depending on the time you visit, you will either find the artisans either creating the skeleton by typing stacks of hay to a simple bamboo structure; or putting the first layer of clay to resemble the flesh and giving the idol a basic shape, or the clay being shaped for the final form with great care and being blow-dried on some occasions. Closer to the finish time, you will find the idols and their obedient animal follower being draped in fineries and painted with great care. An intriguing ritual of collecting the first clay sample from a prostitute's courtyard is still followed today in spirit. The priest himself is mandated to go for this important aspect of the ritual, and the most auspicious method of collection is to beg it from a prostitute and have her hand it over as a gift or blessing. The fitting finale is the day of Mahalaya, a week before the commencement of the Puja, when traditionally the eyes of the idols are drawn. I have read descriptions of artisans creating the idol of famous family-organized pujas at site meditating for hours in front of the idol with closed eyes and then suddenly with a swift stroke of the brush the third eye of the Goddess is drawn, as if with divine inspiration and the idol comes alive from that moment.






While the budget for the Kolkata Durga Pujas have multiplied manifold, thanks to the zeal of the sponsors to be seen and/or heard to the millions of prospective consumers, the price of the art churned out by the artisans have not gone up in any proportion beyond the normal inflation rate. In other words, the power of market forces which has bankrolled the individual puja organizers with unbelievable amounts of money (sometimes reported as over Rs. 2 million for a single puja organizer from a single sponsor) has not rubbed off its sheen on the economic condition of the artisans. Be it the idol makers, be it the traditional drummers (called Dhaki's- a puja is not worth its name till the sound of this instrument fills the air) or the thousands of craftsmen who painstakingly put together the marvelous structures (called Pandals). They are still mostly piece rate producers. "Darkness under the lamp"- an age-old proverb and still very valid. I cannot help think that in some other societies of the world, these craftsmen would have been the real celebrities of the event, not the fat cat organizers/the Very Improtant Persons who patronize and inaugurate the pujas.

Gobindaram Mitra, one of the famous residents of this area, was one of the earliest Indian officials under the British rule and earned a reputation for his wealth and extravagance. He was a tax collector for the East India Company. He was one of the earliest patrons of Durga Puja in Kolkata, and his celebration was marked with lavishness and extravagance. The entire image of goddess Durga was wrapped in gold and silver leaf. Thirty to fifty maunds (one maund is about 37 kg) of rice was offered to the deity, a thousand Brahmins were fed and given gifts. Mitra had a sprawling house at Kumortuli spread on 50 bighas (around 16 acres) of land. He also built a famous temple known as the Navaratna Temple, which became famous as the Black Pagoda. the Temple had a tower of 165 meter high and served as a navigational aid to the European sailors till it was destroyed in a major storm in 1737. Banamali Sarkar, after whom the main street of Kumortuli area is named, was also a wealthy resident of that area, famous for his palatial house that was the subject of urban folklores.

Last year, I visited when the idols were being finished. My lasting visual from that trip was the Asur (demon) being dried with a blow-torch; and my favorite Himalayan lion (who carries Goddess Durga on his back in her fight with the demons) being draped with pieces of towel, which will be painted to perfection as the animal's skin. My first visit this year was in end-August. I had two visitors in town, new in India and visiting Kolkata for the first time. We visited the workshop when the idols were in their median stage of creation. They could see abundance of semi-finished clay structures and artisans working to finish this stage before they move on to the painting stage. For the un-initiated, it is hard to believe that these creations are done to be destroyed only after four days of worship. I visited a week later and loved the walk during daytime along the streets of Kumortuli and watching the clay being kneaded with rice husk (which gives strength to the clay), potters painting some of the smaller idols and the excited photographer groups (seemed like photography school students) happily clicking away every bit of visual available. I also greatly enjoyed talking to some of the artisans. I plan to go back on the day of the Mahalaya next week, to see the drawing of the eyes on this auspicious day.

Note on how to reach- the nearest railway station to Kumortuli is the Sovabazar Metro. Sovabazar Ferry Ghat (alongside the Hugli river) is also close by. I like to walk down from the Sovabazar Metro Station, take a turn along Rabindra Sarani and enter Banamali Sarkar Street on the left or keep walking straight towards the temporary shed.

Kumortuli is a must-see for any visitor to Kolkata, particularly for the period of August-October. But first, the residents of Kolkata must be more aware of what happens there; how much skill, hard work, devotion and perfection is required to present the majestic idols in front of millions of viewers and worshippers; and what the city has done (or not done) to improve the quality of life for the artisans. Citizens must be proud of the artisans of Kumortuli, and their fellow-artisans in other fields of traditional creativity who work to make the Durga Puja of Kolkata such a memorable event. If we consider Durga Puja a cornerstone of "Bangaliyana" and the sponsors consider the carnival that goes around this so-called religious event as manna for economic blessings, then it is time everyone pays attention to the men who create the magic and nourish the soil which holds the roots of this giant tradition.

Te Papa

Toi te Kupu- using word to pass on information.
Toi te Mana- using art to pass on information
Toi te Whenua- using the land to pass on information

Kupu- word
Mana- prestige
Whenua (pronounced as fenua)- land

Simple words and expressions of the Maori tribal language of New Zealand, but profound in explaining the life and belief of the tribal community in any part of the world.

These are fruits of wisdom gained from my conversation Lisa Rewati, Maori Educator in Te Papa- New Zealand’s national museum in Wellington.


The discussion started during my visit to the Museum at the time of a photo exhibit titled "Lens on the World" by Brian Blake. I was intrigued by a picture postcard in the Museum souveneir store with a photo titled "Monsoon Girl" attributed to Brian Blake. The picture was of a young girl, enjoying the feel of rain in her face with closed eyes, as if she was in a trance. The girl seemed quite Indian, and quite familiar too. It took me about a minute to re-wire my brain and realize the picture was of our very own Aparna Sen, in her teens! The photo did not mention her name anywhere. The connection seemed so unlikely that I felt compelled to investigate further. I went up to the two ladies in the Museum Information Desk to find out how our very own Aparna Sen's photo found its way in to a tribal culture showcase in the middle of Pacific Ocean in the Southern Hemisphere. The old lady was actually quite pleased with my question, and explained that Brian Blake (1927-1988) was New Zealand's most celebrated photographer. His entire collection of photographs is now housed at the Te Papa Museum. As an international photojournalist, he photographed for picture magazines such as Life, National Geographic and Paris Match. He traveled extensively around the world, and his most famous work was on the monsoon rains in India in 1960. This essay yielded the widely reproduced Monsoon girl photograph. He actually clicked the photo of 14-year Aparna Sen! I later learnt from Google that this was when she was filming for Satyajit Ray’s Samapti (in another version, the photo shoot was in the roof of her house). Blake found interest in other subjects in India too, including Kashmir in 1957; the Russian-managed construction of a steel mill at Durgapur in 1958; the 1959 flight of the Dalai Lama from Tibet; the Indian film industry in 1961; the legacy of the English in India in 1962; and the 1963 wedding of American socialite Hope Cooke to the crown prince of Sikkim.

The conversation moved from Brian Blake to the striking similarity of Maori art, craft and way of ilfe with the tribal communities in India. Indeed, the harmonious existence with nature, the worship of the nature's forces and sustainable livelihood practices are so similar in all the aboriginal communities, you cannot but believe that world was probably far more globalized in the pre-historic times than it is now! I have seen art, implements, handicrafts and daily use materials in the National Museum of American Indian in Washington DC which looks so similar to that of our North-East India tribal communities. The Maori collection in Te Papa confirmed the same hypothesis. When I mentioned this, the young lady named Lisa Rewati, a Maori herself, joined the conversation and emphatically agreed to my point of view. She told me about the three principles mentioned above which Maori's believe. Lisa and her elderly colleague expressed keen interest in India- our diversity of culture, our social values, our tourist locations and our art. They handed me a bagful of high-quality printed brochures on the daily tours, multimedia show schedules, long-term exhibitions, creative hands-on activities for kids, upcoming discussions titled "Storyplace", other events in that month and picture postcards featuring 'ponamu"- the revered greenstone of South Islands of New Zealand.

The Te Papa Museum's collection spans five areas: Art, History, Pacific, Māori, and Natural Environment. The Māori name of the Museum, 'Te Papa Tongarewa', literally means ‘container of treasures'. Visitors are able to interact with a large satellite map of New Zealand laid out on the floor. The Pacific Collection within the History section has about 13,000 historic and contemporary items from the Pacific Islands. The Natural History section has the world's largest specimen of the rare colossal squid- 500 kgs and 33-foot (10 m) long. The squid arrived at the museum in March 2007 after being captured by New Zealand fisherman in the Ross Sea off Antarctica.













Among the different exhibits in the Maori section, it was interesting to see the centrality and reverence to a variety of jade or greenstone, locally called "Pounamu". Pounamu plays a very important role in Māori culture. It is considered a taonga (treasure). Tools, ornaments and weapons are made from it. These were believed to have their own "mana", were handed down as valued heirlooms and were often given as gifts to seal important agreements. The stone is found only in the South Island of New Zealand, known in Māori as Te Wai Pounamu ("The [land of] Greenstone Water") or Te Wahi Pounamu ("The Place of Greenstone"). [edit] Modern usePounamu jewellery is popular among New Zealanders and is often presented as gifts to visitors.














The Museum building is on the waterfront in Wellington, on Cable Street. Inside the building are six storeys of exhibitions, cafés and gift shops dedicated to New Zealand's culture and environment. Earthquake strengthening was achieved through the New Zealand-developed technology of base isolation- essentially seating the entire building on supports made from lead, steel and rubber that slow down the effect of an earthquake. The 36,000 square metre building had cost NZ$300 million by its opening in 1998. It was amazing to see how much effort, imagination and passion was involved in creating the museum, with a relatively small diversity of collection compared to us. When shall we gift ourselves such a innovative, interactive and visitor-focussed museum experience? "The answer my friend is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind."

Iti-Punoscho

Ever since I read William Dalrymple's "Nine Lives: In search of the Sacred in Modern India", I have been fascinated by one of the nine events he experienced- the Theyyam in Kerala. The more I studied about this custom in "Google University", the more I was fascinated and wanted to experience it myself. This fitted perfectly with my new-found love of religious and festival tourism. My agenda is similar to Dalrymple's- experience the event as an observer without being judgemental, have some opportunity for photographic documentation, and come back with enough material to write a blog on it. So, when I had a reason to be in Bangalore in February, I decided to add a weekend and go up to northern Kerala see Theyyam. I researched extensively and found help from unexpected quarters. That set me up for a lifetime opportunity to experience Theyyam- well, almost. Read on.

What is Theyyam:
Theyyam is a popular Hindu ritual form of worship of North Malabar in Kerala state, predominant in the Kasargod and Kannur Districts, and parts of Wayanad and Kozhikode. It is a living Dravidian cult with several thousand-year-old traditions, rituals and customs. The performers of Theyyam belong to the indigenous tribal community. The ruling landlord communities like the Nambiars were patrons of Theyyam. This is unique, since only in Kerala, do both the upper-caste Brahmins and lower-caste tribals share an important position in a major form of worship. The term Theyyam is a corrupt form of Devam or God. Different branches of mainstream Hindu religion such as Shaktism, Vaishnavism and Shaivism now dominate the cult of Theyyam. Two major Theyyam deities of Vaishnavism are Vishnumoorthi and Daivathar. All other categories of Theyyam deities can be classified under Shaivism or Shaktism. The Goddesses like Rakteshwari, Chamundi, Someshwari, Kurathi, and the Gods like Vishnumoorthi are propitiated in sacred groves & house-hold shrines, locally called "kavu". The performance takes place in an open theatre. A performance of a particular deity according to its significance and hierarchy in the shrine continues for 12 to 24 hours with intervals. The chief dancer who plays and personifies the deity of the shrine has to reside in the rituals and is generally called ‘Kolam’. The performance is always preceded by preliminary rituals. After this the performer will retire to a temporary structure to be made up and costumed. When the moment comes, he will enter the shrine to complete the ancient and complex process that has already begun edging him out into an extraordinary otherness. The most sacred and powerful element of the costume, the mudi or headdress, is put on once the artist has been seated on a sacred stool in front of the sanctum. After this comes the actual moment of "becoming" the deity, the moment of crossing the line, as he stares into a small hand-held mirror. It is at this point that, almost imperceptibly, he slips into another state of being, his eyes widening as they focus not on his own reflection, but on the enigmatic features of a divine being. This is the moment of fusion, the defining moment known as "mukhadarshanam", or the seeing of the face. It is the moment when a mortal becomes a god. In the background, folk musical instruments like chenda, tuti, kuzhal and veekni are played in a certain rhythm. All the dancers take a shield and kadthala (sword) in their hands as continuation of the cult of weapons. Then the dancer circumambulates the shrine, runs in the courtyard and continues dancing there. The Theyyam dance has different steps known as Kalaasams. Each Kalaasam is repeated systematically from the first to the eighth step of footwork. There are different patterns of face-painting. Mostly primary and secondary colours are applied with contrast for face painting. It helps in effecting certain stylization in the dances. A performance is a combination of playing of musical instruments, vocal recitations, dance, and peculiar makeup and costumes. The stage-practices of Theyyam and its ritualistic observations make it one of the most fascinating theatrical arts of India- text quoted from Wikipedia & http://www.vengara.com/

Some Theyyams use nearly 50 or 60 feet high long crowns or Mutis made out of arecanut tree and bamboo splices. These crowns are supported by long bamboos which are held by several helpers to keep the balance when placed upon the head of the player. The Thottam or the song related to the particular Theyyam deity is recited by the player and by the singers in the background. Of over 400 varieties of Theyyam performed, the most prominent one are those of Raktha Chamundi, Kari Chamundi, Muchilottu Bhagavathi, Wayanadu Kulaveni, Gulikan and Pottan- http://www.mapsofindia.com/maps/kerala/performing-arts/theyyam.html

Karimchamundi Theyyam is one very rare Theyyam because of its scary nature. It is performed in the regions of Perumba river. Earlier the Theyyam festival of Karim Chamundi required the sacrifice of a goat. Now this Theyyam performance has an act of killing chickens by biting in the neck and plucking off the head and throwing it in the air. With dark coloured face paintings the Theyyam performed at midnight is frightening. Women and children are not permitted to watch the Karim Chamundi Theyyam. Two Karim Chamundi Theyyams which I could identify this year are as follows:
Start: January 27, 2011
Venue: Azheekode Elamkarumakan Kshethram, Azheekode, Kannur
Start: January 22, 2011; End: January 26, 2011
Venue: Myladathadam Elangarumakan Kshethrolsavam, Azheekode, Kannur

My destination for Theyyam was Kannur (or Cannanore) and my base camp for Theyyam visit plan was Bangalore, so I will give details which I worked out for my trip, hoping that it benefits others who might want to witness this great event in the next season (Jan-March) or beyond.

Location of Kannur: Kannur is on the National Highway 17 (NH-17) connecting Kochi and Mumbai. Two airports- one at Mangalore in the north and one at Kozhikode (Calicut) in the south — are about 100 kilometres away from Kannur. Road distance of Kannur from Bangalore is about 340 km and from Chennai it is about 600 km.

Transportation alternatives from Bangalore to Kannur, apart from driving down, are as below:
1) Trains- 16527/16528 Cannanore Express from/to Yesvantpur station (I booked on this, easier to get tickets) & 16517/16518 Kannur Express (from/to Bangalore SBC). Takes between 13-15 hrs (rail distance much longer than road), but both are overnight trains departing between 8 & 9 pm.

2) Buses:
Karnataka SRTC Buses (Rajhansa- non-Volvo): http://ksrtc.in/; departing from Bangalore Bus Depot; journey time 9-10 hrs
Contact: KSRTC Majestic- 080-2226 9508; KSRTC Satellite- 080-2675 6666

Kerala Road Transport Corporation- Buses leave from Satellite Bus Staion in Mysore Road, Bangalore; arrive at Majestic/Bangalore SBC Railway Station. Advance booking counter at Majestic Bus Staion- the online booking does not seem to work: http://www.keralartc.com/
Kerala SRTC: Control Room: Landline- 0471-2463799; Cell: 9447071021
Kerala SRTC- Kannur: 0471-2463799; 094470 71021

Bus fares: Rs. 250-350/-

Stay Options:
1) Malabar Residency (http://www.malabarresidency.in/)- (this is where I booked)
Thavakkara Road, Kannur-670 001, Kerala, S. India
Ph: (91) 0497 - 2765456, 2701654, 2701655; Fax: (91) 0497 – 2765456
E - mail: malabarresidency2004@yahoo.co.in
Contact: Shaji, Room Division Manager (094970 41118)
Rate: Rs. 1200 +12.5% tax – 10% discount = Rs. 1215/night for standard room (Feb 2011)
2) Ganga Residency- http://www.gangaresidency.com/ (my travel advisor suggested this)

Near Talikkavu Temple, Kannur 6700001. 300 meters from station, 200 meters from Bus stand. Tel: 095266 08951/0497 2712079; Email: gangaresidency@in.com Charges Rs. 900-1200 per night (Feb 2011). Staion pickup available.
3)Pranav Beach Resort- http://www.pranavbeachresort.in/ (read about this in a blog)

Beach Road, Palliyanmoola, Alavil, Kannur 670008. Tel: 0497 3207926/2741148; 09387478285; Email: pranavbeach@rediffmail.com; Contact: Mr. N.P. Venugopalan; “We have non-airconditioned independent cottages in the tariff range of Rs.800/- to Rs.1000/- per day and air-conditioned cottages for Rs.1600/- per day.”- Feb 2011]

Theyyam Options:
Full calender of different Theyyam performances available at the following websites:
http://www.theyyamcalendar.com/
http://www.theyyam.org/pages/newsdesk/10000theyyamcal04.asp
http://www.kaliyattam.com/theyyam.php
http://www.vengara.com/theyyam/theyyamcalendar.htm

These websites also have some great pictures of Theyyam performances. Note that Theyyam dates change every year.

Some great Theyyam videos with narration: http://wn.com/kannur_theyam

The Theyyam that I planned on visiting: Mykeel Sri Karimkuttysasthan Temple, Pulimparamba, Taliparamba, Kannur (http://www.mykeel.in/)- 22 kms from Kannur. This was provided to me by the most helpful and passionate person dedicated in promoting Theyyam- Santhosh, and his group of friends- who developed the site: www.vengara.com in their effort to promote Theyyam in a selfless way. I remain indebted to him for helping me out with my travel plans and giving me full support and confidence all the way. Thank you- stranger friend!

Now, if you are wondering why I have not used any pictures but indulging in this "textual atyachar" through a long-winding travel research on Theyyam, the reason is I pulled out of the trip at the last moment. Mat pucho kyu. I didn't go. But, I will. Sometime soon. Iti-Punoscho :-)

Till then, if you are interested, keep researching with me and imagining yourself to have transcended in the middle of a pre-Vedic ritual at midnight where a dancer with elaborate make-up and costume believes that he is "God" for that time and enacts a complete mythological episode for hours with frenzied energy, repeatedly dives in to smoundering ember in complete oblivion of the world around him. That person, in a week, will go back to his daily chores- maybe as an agricultural labor or restaurant waiter or jail warden, as in the case of Hari Das- one of the most famous exponents of Theyyam and central character in Dalrymple's episode on the subject. I end by quoting him about the experience of Theyyam from his interview with the Outlook magazine in October 2009: "I always get very tense, even though I have been doing this for 26 years now. It’s not that I am nervous of the god coming. It’s more the fear that he might refuse to come. It’s the intensity of your devotion that determines the intensity of the possession. If you lose your feeling of devotion, if it even once becomes routine or unthinking, the gods may stop coming...It’s like a blinding light...When the drums are playing and your make-up is finished, they hand you a mirror and you look at your face transformed into that of a god. Then it comes. It’s as if there is a sudden explosion of light. A vista of complete brilliance opens up—it blinds the senses...That light stays with you all the way during the performance. You become the deity. You lose all fear. Even your voice changes. The god comes alive and takes over. You are just the vehicle, the medium. In the trance, it is god who speaks, and all the acts are the acts of the god—feeling, thinking, speaking. The dancer is an ordinary man—but this being is divine. Only when the head-dress is removed does it end...Suddenly it’s all over, it’s gone. You don’t have any access to what happened during the possession or the performance. You can’t remember anything that happened in the trance. All there is, is a sensation of relief, as if you’ve offloaded something”

Calcutta vs Bangalore- "Amra-Ora" Issues

I visited Bangalore for a week in mid-February. I heard many things about Bangalore- with many friends, relatives and batchmates settled there, that's inevitable. I really liked the place during my trip. Had some memories of the place from a childhood visit, and then some more memories from a trip there some years back. But this time, had much more extensive travel around the city at different days and times of the week, so got a good flavor of the place. Inevitably, some comparisons came in to mind with my very own and much loved city- Kolkata.

Modern version of both cities had a shared ancestory in the unlikely architecture of a mud fort (by Kempe Gowda in Bangalore in 1537 and Fort William in Calcutta by the East India Company in 1702). Both cities were home to military cantonment during the British period. Calcutta had its first electricity in 1899, Bangalore in 1906. Calcutta was known as the "City of Palaces" and Bangalore as the "Garden City".

Cut to present. Calcutta is a classic example of urban mismanagement. Some of the cancers which are eating in to the city's foundations are unplanned and unregulated growth, populist but utterly ineffective urban governance, migration of an unmanageable number of people from a huge rural hinterland in search of a better life, lack of civic sense of a part of the population, "unbridled democratic expressions" of political parties, possibly the world's most chaotic transportation system (one day I counted 27 different varieties of public buses in terms of shape, size, make, color scheme, transport agency, ownership, operatorship- it is virtually a free-for-all) and an overall falling standard of excellence in almost all spheres of life. The time-tested architecture standards and building rules seem to have conveniently changed/made flexible in the last decade and half, resulting in structures that should not be there or at least be built differently. This unregulated real-estate boom is coupled with three more visual pollution parameters- hoardings of all sizes in front of any public or private or heritage building, slums right beside main thoroughfares and encroachers at every conceivable place; making Kolkata one of the ugliest among the 26 "magacities" (population of over 10 million) of the world. Public parks and gardens are few and ill-maintained. Hardly any government building or public area is landscaped. Greenery is more of a inheritence and a survivor of apathy than conscious effort of the Parks & Gardens Department. Encroachers are everywhere- name any public place that you see empty today and tomorrow it will be filled up with people you never wanted to see. "Hawker Policy" allows hawking on 1/3rd portion of sidewalks and not within 50 feet of any crossing. In reality, less than 1/3 of all major footpaths are left open forpedestrians. Ideally, if you are not a customer you should walk sideways so that you do not distrurb the hawkers and their buyers! There is not even enough headroom for anyone taller than 5 feet, with bags and nighties hanging over your head to maximize display- for experiencing it, walk the 5 km stretch between Gariahat and Rashbehari. Unfortunately, no politican who patronizes these practices ever walk on these stretches. Official logic for allowing the 0.5 million hawkers and encroachers a free run on footpaths, forcing pedestrians to walk on the road is apparently "human face"; reality is much more tangible and rewarding, as we all know. The only group who pays the bill for such comatosed governance is the tax-paying, law abiding, non-unionized middle class. And the future of the city gets buried deeper and deeper in the abyss of hopelessness. As a resident who is proud of the history and heritage of the city, I feel pained and frustrated at this downhill slide.

My outsider's impression of Bangalore was however quite refreshing. The city seems to have maintained control on its growth, even in face of the tremendous growth the city has witnessed in the last two decades ever since it became the hot business destination in India. Ironically, about 5% of Bangalore's population are Bengalis, most of them first-generation migrants in search of livelihood. The buildings in an area have architectural parity with one another, and no ugly hoardings come up blocking the frontage of any important building. Overall, the buildings in the city are low-rise, which coupled with the abundant greenery makes the city look beautiful. Most of the government buildings have a manicured garden, and the agencies are proud about the same. The climate is nice, as Bangalore has always been known for. The infrastructure that has been put in is generally of a high standard. I did not see any encroacher occupying the sidewalks or below the flyovers. Transport (even the autos- there are many here too) is not unruly, buses stop only at designated stops and do not solicit passengers at every inch of its journey. The airport, both inside and outside, operates with clinical efficiency. This is a direct contrast to the chaos that greets any passenger as soon as he steps out of the arrival terminal in Kolkata airport. The real difference in my opinion is the work culture. Bangalore transport is almost entirely controled by the government, including taxis. The transport system is many times more efficient, but prices are comparable with Kolkata. The AC buses provided by Government of India under JNURM scheme has been put to good use- the Volvo buses run on common public routes with extremely affordable fare levels. In Kolkata, I am told over 300 new buses are just rotting in the depot because the private operators are not willing to run them even after more than 60% subsidy being provided by the government. The taxi service at airport and station, the layout of and passenger amenities provided in long-distance bus stations are all much much superior to what we see in Kolkata. Overall, the government seems to function much better and governance seems to be of a much higher order in Bangalore compared to Kolkata. Whether this is only due to the government, or the (un)governed, or both, can be a subject of an interesting debate.

I am surprised that I just finished writing this piece and is about to publish it- I have always fought with those who criticized Calcutta, and I still love the city. I strain my eyes for everything that we can be proud of. I returned to work the city in mid-90s, resigning from a lucrative job in Bombay- this was at a time when professionals of my background queued up for the first flight/train out of the city (probably most still do). I drive around the city in the early mornings of Sundays and public holidays, looking for hidden treasures of architecture, food, nature spots and people. I regularly read about and talk to people about the past glories of Calcutta- "the city of palaces" and the "crowning jewel of the British empire". I regularly take visitors out to Calcutta's places of interest. I travel frequently and have visited many cities. Never I had this urge of direct comparison and felt so helpless, frustrated and insulted with the results. It is possible that Calcutta has not changed- only my views are changing. But even that does not augur well for the city, if a die-hard resident fan like me start singing a discordant tune.