celebrating
Word.world.wisdom January 2012
2nd anniversary issue
Two years of word.world.wisdom
Celebrating 25 issues of spark.
1. Terrific 25! —Non-fiction by Anupama Krishnakumar 2. Tapioca and Toothpaste—Fiction by Vani Viswanathan 3. Hence the Disco Lights—Fiction by Shreya Ramachandran 4. A Journey through Pages—Non-fiction by Bijesh Krishnadas 5. Butter, Sugar and Imagination—Non-fiction by Ramya Shankar 6. The Colours of Fall—Photography by Vivekananth Gurumoorthy 7. Dreams—Poetry by Latha Prem Sakhya 8. The Written Word—Poetry by P.R.Viswanathan 9. India through My Lens—Photography by Jai Chabria 10. Role Reversal—Non-fiction by Priya Gopal 11. Pork is Good—Non-fiction by Anuj Agarwal 12. A Day in Tashu’s Life—Fiction by Parvathi Jayamohan
14. When my Chai Spilled—Art by Sandhya Ramachandran 15. The Illusion—Fiction by Parth Pandya 16. My Dress, My Bane—Non-fiction by Meera Sundararajan 17. Right from Above! —Photography by Maheswaran Sathiamoorthy 18. Outside—Non-fiction by Balaji Iyer 19. Revisiting a Popular Film—Non-fiction by Yayaati Joshi 20. From Etu with Love—Fiction by Preeti Madhusudhan 21. Rise India!—Poetry by R.Seshan 22. The Journey of Money—Non-fiction by Deepa Venkatraghvan 23. The Ocean Rejoices —Non-fiction by Varsha Sreenivasan 24. Bridesmaids—Art by Amrita Sarkar 25. Nuovo Spark—Fiction by Jeevanjyoti Chakraborty THE FINAL WORD—OUR FEATURED PERSONALITIES SHARE THEIR FEEDBACK
Inside this issue
13. Memory Keepers—Poetry by Swetha Ramachandran
MONTH: JANUARY 2012 THEME: CELEBRATING 25 ISSUES OF SPARK CONCEPT: As a tribute to the 25 issues of Spark published till date and as a special issue celebrating the second anniversary of Spark, 25 contributors take up each of the 25 themes and pay a tribute through art, photography, fiction, nonfiction and poetry. SPECIAL FEATURE: A collection of the best quotes picked from Spark’s interviews and columns over two years.
EDITORS’ NOTES
This issue is a collector’s edition for the regular Spark reader. Spread over the issue is a whole range of interesting content that pays the perfect tribute to each and every theme showcased in Spark so far. Once we decided this concept for the second anniversary issue, the editorial team spent considerable time thinking and picking contributors, identifying their areas of strength and allotting a suitable theme for them. In other words, this issue strives to bring forth the best of the talent that Spark has seen in the last two years. We hope you enjoy this edition as much as we did in putting it together.
It’s Spark’s second anniversary edition and the 25th issue - a very proud moment for us. Anupama Krishnakumar chronicles the journey of this creative pursuit over the last two years and tells you what it feels like to have run an effort like this along with a wonderful co-editor and a super-talented team. Anupama’s piece is a reflection of the January 2012 edition, the 25th issue’s theme, ‘Celebrating 25 Issues of Spark’. Two years – it feels wonderful. And 25 issues – that’s what really brightens it all the more.
And so right now, as you can see – I am trying.
Spark is one of the biggest dreams of my life coming true. A magazine that I will establish and shape with due attention, passion and care remained a lingering desire inside me till November 2009, when I quit my full -time job to take care of my now four-year-old son. Spark is like a child to me, and like I wrote during the first anniversary of the magazine, ‘a child that that I have been so proud of, a child that I have nurtured with devotion and positive energy, a child whose sole purpose from the beginning has been to enhance the lives of others through words, ideas, creative expressions and information, however small the change may be.” Now that the second year too is complete, she has only grown closer to me, toddling into the hands of in fact a wider audience, and returning with more praise and a broader smile on her face. I couldn’t be happier. Sathya Saran, fashion journalist and author told me this very important truth in response to one of the questions I had posed to her during an interview for Spark. She said, “I think I learnt that one does not own what one creates. Be it a magazine, a job, a child. Some of it belongs to others and is given to you to shape; others are yours to create and then need to find their own paths. But being able to create is valuable, I treasure the opportunities. And reaching out with what one creates: that is a gift from God!” Nothing can sum up my role with Spark and the roles many others have played in the last two years in shaping this creative endeavour, better. I have been immensely lucky to have a co-editor like Vani, who is also my younger sister. Her critiquing abilities and editing skills have been something I have truly admired. Every time we have had those mind-boggling conversations over contributions and interview ideas, she has stunned me with her clear thinking and made me wonder – well, do we really have six years between us? Both of us have worked very hard to make Spark a reality.
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Till this point in time, when I have actually sat down to write the piece that I am supposed to for this 25th issue theme, ‘Celebrating 25 issues of Spark’, I am unable to make up my mind on what I should actually be saying. Thoughts and ideas have been hitting me like pin pricks and with every passing day, the pricks have only grown more frequent and suddenly the thoughts have all been jostling for space like smart, little children, fighting to find their rightful place in paper. And then the reality looms large in front of my eyes – the very word count restriction we placed for the team for this second anniversary issue – please keep it to 1000 words! Did I say I have another challenge? I have to doubly make sure this doesn’t sound like a sermon or a winner’s speech. :)
Terrific 25!
Anupama Krishnakumar
And then I need to talk about the online family we have been a part of in the last two years – a family that has been growing steadily – the Spark family. Our contributors have been our biggest strength and when I actually think of it – it’s only the first exchange of mails between a contributor and the editorial team that has remained formal. Following that, to say the very least, smiling smileys have punctuated much of the conversations. Cordiality has been something that, I am proud to say, we have shared with people who have worked with us. I hope the team will agree :). On a serious note, they have also been the ones who have come to us with useful suggestions, debated earnestly on points of dissent in their work. We have learnt something valuable from each and every one’s point of view. Reaching 25 issues wouldn’t have been possible without the people who chose to work with Spark.
Many a time, when someone that I know or someone new has shared their thoughts on Spark, one word is sure to be spoken – Passion. How true! That’s the biggest driving factor for this effort called Spark and something that has kept us going for the last two years. What makes us even prouder is the fact that in these two years, we have tried sincerely
word that delights her soul and so here she is, doing what she loves to do – spinning tales for her small audience and for her four-year-old son, bringing together a lovely team of creative people and spearheading Spark. She loves books, music, notebooks and colour pens and truly admires simplicity in anything!
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to bring out every issue on the 5th of each month and have been successful each time. All the 25 issues of Spark have been unfailingly published on the 5th of a month. As I say that, I must also admit that we start our third year of publishing, just the way we started our first year. Perhaps we are not as nervous and jittery, but yes, our principles stay. We have dreamt, but never looked beyond one issue at a time, telling ourselves that unless we have published on the 5th, our job is not done. We have seen this as a journey without a destination and we will continue to see it thus – a journey where many lessons are to be learnt, carrying on for as long as we are able to. I think providence has been ever so kind to have been by our side all these months, giving us the right theme ideas – many of them being sudden realisations; and also kind enough to get us many people who have been motivated to add dimensions to our monthly ideas – the 25 issues with such a wide varieThe other lovely learning experience for us has been ty of themes, is here to see; and kind enough to the interviews and special columns. Personally for bring us many well-wishing readers. me, the interviews are a big dream come true and this just wouldn’t have been possible without Spark. So, here it is – our tribute to all these themes, dediI think I would need a separate column to talk of the cated to our dear contributors and readers. Look entire experience and the joys of having the chance through this special issue that has 25 contributors to speak to some of the best minds in various fields. paying tributes to the each of the 25 themes of Almost every time, I have been amazed by their Spark, interpreted with earnestness and passion down-to-earth attitude. Speaking of featured perover the last two years. We hope you like it. sonalities, ‘Sparkling Thoughts’, the anthology of inIn the meantime, may we revel in joy and pride, terviews and columns that we had featured in Spark please? between January 2010 and July 2011 and published in July 2011 is a small milestone in our dream jourAnupama Krishnakumar loves Physics and English ney. Milestones are so addictive, I feel – once you and sort of managed to get degrees in both – achieve one, you are motivated to see more and studying Engineering and then Journalism. Yet, as more. she discovered a few years ago, it is the written
Anupama Krishnakumar
MONTH: JANUARY 2010 THEME: NEW BEGINNINGS CONCEPT: The first ever issue of Spark showcased a theme in line with its own beginning. We were an excited bunch and tried our best to make it as professional as it could get in terms of both contributions and the design. FEATURED WRITER OF JANUARY 2010: Deepa Venkatraghvan, Chartered Accountant and Author.
EDITORS’ NOTES
Looking back, it still feels like yesterday. What a delight it was when we hit the publish button for the first-ever time in Spark’s earlier Wordpress blog! We put a lot of thought into the design—particularly the cover page. The cover photograph symbolised the essence of Spark. We used a newspaper background to represent Word, the colourful petals to signify the World around us in different colours and the flower at the centre to symbolise Wisdom. Looking at it another way, the newspaper represents writing, the colourful petals, a palette of colours and therefore art and the flower in the centre signifying photography.
You may wonder what people in villages do when they need dental help. People from remote, far-flung villages, a good few hours from civilisation (i.e., towns or villages with dentists). This is the story of one such village. And remember this happened some 20 years ago, and the author doesn’t profess knowledge of what happens these days. Vani Viswanathan writes a story laced with humour to celebrate the concept of the first ever issue of Spark – the January 2010 issue themed, ‘New Beginnings’.
He told his wife about it and was eager to have a prolonged discussion on the topic, but she snapped back at him and asked him to shut up; he had no right to talk about doctors and their strange jobs when he was a useless, unmasculine man, given that he couldn’t bring home any money from his useless farm that grew useless things that were useless at fetching any money at the village market. Mani shrank back in the corner under the prayer altar of their one-room hut, and sat there chewing the blade of grass he had plucked from a neighbour’s field on the way home.
Some three hours later, after he had shamefacedly swallowed any talk about his growling hunger for a good hour for fear of another rebuke from his wife, she announced that dinner was ready. He shuffled to the other corner near the wood-fuelled stove, the part of the house that served as the kitchen. She placed on the floor, with barely-hidden annoyance, a battered aluminium plate with some unrecognisable food. “What’s this?” he asked. “Tapioca from your farm.” Mani gulped. It looked very suspicious. “Have you even cooked it?” “Listen, Mani, if you don’t want to eat it you are free to get out of the house and find your own dinner!” Mani gulped again, and made a ball of the rice and put it in his mouth. He followed this, gingerly to say the least, wondering how it would taste, with a piece of the tapioca. His first reaction was that it didn’t taste bad. She had wisely used the limited spices available: the dried red chilli, salt and turmeric. His second reaction was one of pain: there was a huge piece of a stone-like-something that he had bitten hard into in his enthusiasm and surprise at the taste, and it had hurt. He yelled out in pain. His wife yelled too, but at him. “Now what?!” “suv-ving-in-va-food!” he said, food still in his mouth. He was sure some tooth had broken inside, and he wasn’t sure if swallowing the food would be a good idea. He spat the food into his hand and picked at it to see if there was any tooth-like object in there. Sure enough, he saw something that vaguely resembled a chicken bone, a tiny piece of a chicken bone. He then ran his tongue through his teeth to spot which one it might be. He felt something sharp and his tongue stopped there. His wisdom tooth was broken, the one at the lower
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53-year-old Mani stood staring at the new poster stuck at the village tea shop. The poster showed a set of teeth and some writings in Tamil. “What’s this?” he asked the shopkeeper. “Teeth doctor coming to our village!” the shopkeeper replied. “There are doctors specifically for the teeth?!” Mani thought, left the shop, and walked back home, still thoughtful.
Tapioca and Toothpaste
Vani Viswanathan
right.
“What else? A neem twig!”
After rinsing his mouth with water and finishing the rest of the rice (he carefully hid the tapioca from his wife’s view and threw them out in the bushes near where he usually did his business), and went to bed. A few minutes before falling asleep, he suddenly remembered something, and he broke into a grin. He could see the teeth doctor whenever the man got there.
“Do you use tooth powder?”
*** When Mani made his way to the dental clinic on the very first day of its opening, there was already a crowd outside. He wasn’t surprised; he knew many of them would be interested in finding out about the teeth doctor. When he went in, though, he was surprised. A lady was sitting there, with a mask over her nose. He suddenly felt very shy, and had to lower his face as he answered her question on why he was here. “The wisdom tooth is chipped,” he said, and after a moment’s thought, untied a knot at the end of his dhoti and took out what the dentist recognised (not without some disgust) was the broken piece. “Thanks for the piece, but we won’t need it,” she said, putting it away with her gloved hand.
She then made him sit up straight. “Do you brush your teeth regularly?” He nodded. “Every morning.” “With what?”
“What caused this tooth to break?” “Err… I ate a piece of tapioca that had something hard in it. Bit on it hard and it broke the tooth.” “Alright, we can fix this easily. But I see quite a few cavities in your teeth too. Do you never rinse your mouth with water after eating?” “No… not really…” “Hmm. I’m sure your teeth hurt quite often. Correct?” “Oh yes. When I eat anything hot, cold, anything. But that happens to everyone. Even the man who grows potatoes in the farm next to mine says so.” “I think I know who you are talking about. He came here too.” “So, doctor-amma, what do I have to do?” “For starters, come again next Monday. We need to fill the cavity-ridden teeth and put a ‘cap’ on your broken wisdom tooth. Second, I have to teach you to use a tooth brush.” *** Mani went home with a toothbrush and a little tube of toothpaste that evening, and his wife was enraged. “You useless donkey! Why did you spend on this useless thing?? Your teeth are rotting anyway. I have made dal today, maybe they will melt in the heat of the dal!”
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She made him sit on a chair and lean with his head thrown back, and pulled open his mouth with what Mani realised was a metal rod, and leaned close to his mouth to peek inside. Suddenly Mani felt ashamed about all the garlic that his wife’s sambar had, and wished he could have chewed on some cumin to neutralise the smell. The woman, though, didn’t bat an eyelid; Mani guessed the whole village stank of garlic or onion, and she’d smelled enough to get used to it.
“Can’t afford it, doctor-amma. We use brick dust.”
“Stop yelling, the doctor gave it to me for free! She says I can get all my cavities fixed!” “It’s a woman?! You shameless man, have you been going around showing unknown women your dirty teeth?! What will you show her next? Will you undo your…”
Vani Viswanathan
Mani left the hysteric woman alone in the house and went outside to the bush near where he did his business. He pulled the toothbrush and the toothpaste out. He squeezed some paste out of the tube and using his right index finger, spread it on the toothbrush, and began massaging his teeth gently. It had a pleasant, pudina-like taste. He didn’t feel like spitting it out, and although he knew he shouldn’t, swallowed it and drank some water. He liked the cold feeling that spread through his mouth, and the pleasant smell that he could smell when he let out a small gasp. He
liked this toothbrush and toothpaste and how it made him feel cleaner. He swore he would do this every day, till he died. He had to figure a way out to be able to afford it though. Perhaps not growing tapioca would have to be the first step, he thought.
Vani Viswanathan is often lost in her world of books and A R Rahman, churning out lines in her head or humming a song. Her world is one of frivolity, optimism, quietude and general chilled-ness, where there is always place for outbursts of laughter, bouts of silence, chocolate, ice cream and lots of books and endless iTunes playlists from all over the world. Vani was a Public Relations consultant in Singapore and decided enough is enough with the struggle to find veggie food everyday, and returned to India after seven long years away. Vani blogs at http://chennaigalwrites.blogspot.com
We decided on the tagline ‘Word.World.Wisdom’ much before we zeroed in on a name for the magazine. We worked on various names for the journal through a “related-words” exercise. During one such attempt, we thought of some archaic names and then thought of early men and stones and rubbing of stones and landed up with Spark!
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Did you know?
Vani Viswanathan
MONTH: FEBRUARY 2010 THEME: ROMANCE CONCEPT: True to the spirit of the month, we decided to go for this popular theme. The result was an issue that explored romance from various perspectives. FEATURED WRITER OF FEBRUARY 2010: Ramya Sethuraman, Author, ‘The Last Laugh’ - a collection of romantic short stories.
EDITORS’ NOTES
It was a leap of sorts for us from the first issue. We received our first contributions from outside the initial core team we had set up. We felt elated that people had actually found us interesting and worth making a contribution to! We keenly incorporated many changes into the design following some feedback from our first readers—we made the issue more colourful and needless to say, romantic!
Anshika returns to her office after a shoot and there’s a surprise waiting for her. We bet you would want to know more. Shreya Ramachandran pens a love story representing the February 2010 theme, ‘Romance’.
When Anshika returned to the Fifth Wall Documentary Films office at six in the evening, she found Veer, the production head of Fifth Wall, leaning against her desk. “Hey Veer, the shoot went really well. Ratan actually finished early. There are just two or three interviews left. I’ll do those tomorrow?” Veer stood up straight and folded his long arms across his chest.
Hence the Disco Lights on and off, and danced across the walls and wriggled across the ceiling. The 12 employees in the office room began talking in a low drone. The lights fizzled out into darkness and then a spotlight cracked and fell in a soft, butter-yellow light on the farthest corner in the room – on Vinay, who was wearing a slightly ill-fitting grey suit, his hair gelled into quiet submission. He buttoned his blazer and cleared his throat. The office drones were silent; everyone in the room was watching him. Clearing his throat again – this time, one notch louder, Vinay knelt down on one knee. The drones whirred; the girls began the excited, elongated syllables: ‘Ooooh’, ‘Woooow’, ‘So sweeeeet’. And then Vinay spoke to her for the first time that evening: “I have something to give you.”
With a heavy sigh that came from somewhere deep in his gut, Veer said, “Your – boyfriend – is here to see you.”
The drones were louder now, and they were sure they knew what it was. Kavita, the financial secretary, told Anshika, “It’s a ring!”
“Vinay? What’s he doing here?”
“What’s a ring?”
“Just make it quick,” was all Veer said.
Kavita’s expression in the minimal light looked almost ferocious. “HE’S GOING TO GIVE YOU A RING!”
Ratan, the Director of Photography, entered the office room wheeling in a large lighting frame from the adjoining studio. These frames were used for still photography and indoor shoots, but were usually never brought into the office. “Why is the frame here?” Anshika asked. “Don’t ask me. I’m just the boss at this place. Apparently, I don’t get a say in what happens,” Veer said with an exaggerated sigh of patience. And then the office lights turned green, red, blue and purple. Like disco lights, they blinked
But when Vinay held out the object, it wasn’t a discreet velvet box; it was a large black tape recorder. When Vinay pressed the ‘play’ button, the song that played was generic enough that the drones thought it was part of the romance of the scene, but Anshika listened closely and smiled because the song was a special secret.
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“Veer?”
“I hope our few remaining friends give up on trying to save us…..” When Anshika was one day struck by the overwhelming realisation that she might possibly be in what people call ‘love’ with Vinay, she had dedicated this song to
Shreya Ramachandran
him. It wasn’t a traditional love song – or a love song at all, which was what added to the beauty of it all. “I hope I lie and tell everyone you were a good wife….” Anshika now had a cheesy grin on her face. Vinay walked across the room and held out a hand again, and Anshika took it. “And I hope when you think of me years down the line, you can’t find one good thing to say…” The song swelled louder. “Anshika, will you marry me?” “OH”, Anshika realised slowly. “Hence the disco lights.” “Hence the disco lights.” “Yes Vinay, I shall marry you. You clinched it with your song selection.” “You are coming with me, hand in unlovable hand….” That was the last line of the anti-love song they heard before the lights went off and were replaced by the ordinary, obscenely fluorescent lighting. The music player was turned off. Veer stood in the middle of the room. “ENOUGH. RATAN, PUT THE LIGHTING FRAMES BACK IN THE STUDIO. EVERYONE GET BACK TO WORK.” His footsteps echoed in the tiny room as the drones settled back into their work positions. Anshika and Vinay stood at her desk.
ARE TRYING TO GET WORK DONE. I’m sure whatever you need to do can be done better when you’re home alone.” “I’ll see you later,” Vinay muttered to Anshika before taking the tape recorder and walking out. Veer resumed his swift stride towards the seclusion of his cabin. “Veer? VEER!” Anshika intercepted his path before he could enter his cabin. “What was that?” “That? That was a TAMASHA. It was a spectacle.” “He was just trying to propose… I mean, even I realised only later… But it was sweet.” “He made a spectacle in front of everyone. He asks me if he can borrow the lighting frames for 10 minutes, I agree, and he turns the office into a Bollywood set.” “Veer, it was just 10 minutes. Why do you have to ruin it?” Veer looked straight into Anshika’s eyes and took a quiet, long breath. “I’m not the one who’s ruining it.” “Veer, what are you even trying to say?” “I’m saying I don’t think you see the real romance here. You see only what’s lit up by disco lights.”
“Sir, I…” “Sir?! Call me Veer. And please leave the office. WE
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“What is the REAL ROMANCE?” “You know exactly what I’m trying to say, Anshika. Don’t pretend I have“TAKE AWAY THE FRAMES. THIS IS A WORKPLACE. n’t tried to tell you a thousand times before.” He covAM I THE ONLY ONE WHO REALISES THAT?” ered his eyes with his palms, then released them slowly. “Anyway. Congratulations to the happy cou“Didn’t Veer give you permission?” Anshika asked ple. I hope you try and keep the honeymoon out of Vinay. the office.” With that, he entered his cabin and shut “He did…,” Vinay frowned. the door loudly behind him. The slam echoed Veer stormed past the cubicles and towards his cabin throughout the tiny office room. at the end of the room. “Excuse me Sir…” Vinay Shreya Ramachandran is a 17-year-old girl stopped Veer when he passed. “When I gave you permission, I didn’t know you would make such a from Chennai who attempts to write about spectacle. ENOUGH OF THIS!” the world – or what she knows of it, always
obsessed with saying things in her own strange simple way.
Shreya Ramachandran
MONTH: MARCH 2010 THEME: DOWN THE MEMORY LANE CONCEPT: Looking back—that’s what we did with our March 2010 issue. We asked our contributors to take a trip down memory lane and the result was a colourful and nostalgic issue! FEATURED PERSONALITY OF MARCH 2010: Arun Vaidyanathan, filmmaker, Director, ‘Achchamundu! Achchamundu!’
EDITORS’ NOTES
We will remember the March 2010 issue for the fact that we featured our first ever interview in this edition. Arun Vaidyanathan, filmmaker, walked down memory lane—looking back at his filming career right from his television days to the making of his feature film. We also remember this issue for the colourful memories—such a wide range of them. It indeed was a whirlpool of memorable thoughts!
Bijesh Krishnadas traces his journey as a book lover, right from the time when it all began. Join him in his journey down memory lane, as he pays a tribute to the March 2010 issue themed, ‘Down the Memory Lane.’
Like many of you out there, I love to read – and I don’t mean reading as intellectual mastication, but just the simple act of immersing oneself in the words of another. While I would like to say that I read because I want to be stimulated and provoked to think, that would be untrue. I read because I like to. The thought -provoking and life-changing aspects are just by-products of what is otherwise just an indulgence. There is no better way for me to spend an afternoon other than sit with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.
Up until then, I was hooked to such sundry reading material as Misha (Ah, the memories!) and the ubiquitous Amar Chitra Katha and Tinkle. Most of these were hand-me-downs from my cousin and I would truck back loads of his
discarded books on every visit. It was possibly luck that I got a certain Ms Shenoy as my English teacher in the new school. She was one of those rare ones that knew that learning was more than exams and scores. She encouraged us to interpret poetry in class and to write our assignments in our own words and not just memorise pre-written notes. She was greatly different from the teachers that I had had until then. The new school had a library which was always locked. No one I knew had seen the insides of the library and it was generally considered off-limits to us. You had to be in the higher classes to have the privilege of accessing it and even then only for reference books. There was a group of us in class – numbering four –that wanted to move beyond comic books and the glossy magazines. We wanted to read actual books but couldn’t afford to buy them. The school library would’ve been a great resource and so Ms. Shenoy decided to fight on our behalf and used all her influence to get us access to the library. We weren’t initially allowed to take the books out of the library. Our quartet lounged in the library after school hours, sitting on the cramped floor with our noses buried deep in the many adventures of the Famous Five, The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew (hey, I was a kid back then). Ah, how we wished we were on these mystery hunts. We became enamoured by books and willingly gave up our play time for the chance to read. Eventually, the school administration realised that we were well and truly hooked and allowed us to even take books home.
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I remember how my fascination with books started. I was in class four and had just moved schools from what was a “city” school to a more rural one. There were even fields on my way to school, but that’s besides the point. In those days, schools weren’t about the “learning experience” as they are now. Schools were places where you didn’t dare move a muscle and you were mostly taught to learn by rote. Now, I must say that my previous school was all about academics and nothing else. There were extra-curriculars but they were merely for decoration.
A Journey through Pages
The hunger for books only grew from there. There wasn’t a public library anywhere near my home so the school library was my only source but it didn’t have
Bijesh Krishnadas
much by way of variety. One summer vacation, I spent most of my holidays at my cousin’s and my uncle recommended I join a lending library that was about 30 minutes from their place. My uncle went a step ahead and decided to pay for it as well. That was an unbelievable period for me.
It was while doing my engineering course that I finally moved off my purely pop fiction diet, again thanks to another lending library and the kindly man that ran the library. To me, this frail gentleman was an absolute genius. He knew his books like the back of his hand and I spent a lot of time listening to his recommendations and his reviews of books. I can still
My reading habit has continued to this day. The menu varies depending on my mood. Frequently featured are Rushdie’s magical realism - I finished “Haroun and the Sea of Stories” very recently. I also enjoy David Sedaris’ self-deprecating humour and Haruki Murakami’s surreal novels. Yet, pop fiction, particularly horror, continues to be comfort food. I am signed up at the city library (free borrowing, yay!) and on every visit there I always return with an armload of books. At the moment, I am reading Joseph Heller’s “God Knows” and William Golding’s “Rites of Passage”. I don’t get to read as much as I used to before but books would still top my list of things to have on a deserted island. And for that I have to thank all the wonderful people who through the years helped me nurture the reading habit!
Bijesh Krishnadas works as an Engineering Specialist (fancy name, same game). His list of interests has seen the likes of the guitar (still can’t play), motorcycling (misses it now), photography (rekindling in progress) and dabbling in writing. He also likes to cook fancy meals with nice, long names but doesn’t do that very often.
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I wanted to move further from the teen-mysteries and try something more grown up. And I decided “supernatural” was the way to go and the book I picked out was “The Exorcist” (written by William Peter Blatty). I still remember that it was missing its original cover and was bound in a green patterned hardcover. It was a huge book by my standards – about 300 pages – and felt quite meaty in the hands. It was only an experiment but I eventually got absolutely hooked. Believe me, “The Hardy Boys” are unput-down-able but this book was on a whole new level. It was a scary book and managed to give me the shivers but I couldn’t drop it until I finished it and spent all of my waking hours engrossed in it. It was a bit later that I discovered the boogieman – Stephen King - this time through a friend. This friend of mine was a member at another lending library and borrowed books on my behalf. Once when I asked for something from the horror genre, he brought me King’s “The Eyes of the Dragon”. This was one of King’s many forays into fantasy (not horror which is his main forte) but introduced me to King’s signature style. I went on to read many more of King’s works and was fascinated by how he seamlessly juggled fantasy and horror. To this day, King’s books remains my guilty pleasure.
remember the wonderful aroma of books that permeated his small but filled-to-the-hilt library. It was he who introduced me to “alternative” writing and what to me was serious literature. I was still a sucker for popular fiction but my diet now included the likes of Animal Farm (George Orwell), The Lord of the Flies (William Golding) and To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee). During this period I also discovered the humour genre – Three Men in a Boat (Jerome K Jerome) and P.G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves sagas.
Bijesh Krishnadas
MONTH: APRIL 2010 THEME: FOOD AND TRAVEL CONCEPT: Perfect for the vacation season, we chose to explore Travel—a theme that covers geographies while also discussing another aspect that overcomes boundaries in its truest sense—the love for Food. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF APRIL 2010: Anil Purohit Anu Karthik Lakshmi Sharath Vanga Srikar Reddy
EDITORS’ NOTES
This was one issue for which people came back to us saying— ’this is not fair!’ Why not, when it made them long for lovely food and got their feet itching for a trip! The April 2010 edition was one of the most popular issues of that year and is close to our hearts too, for many reasons—including two lovely writeups by two extremely talented travel bloggers—Lakshmi Sharath and Anil Purohit.
What began as an effort to divert the mind that was tired of routine cooking is now Ramya Shankar’s favourite hobby. In a piece that conveys the essence of the April 2010 issue, ‘Food and Travel’, Ramya shares the joys of baking and the many incidents that have marked her baking journey. The lack of an interest to investigate the complexities involved in the making of a meal combined with being blessed with a mother who enjoys cooking was my culinary nemesis. So, leaving the warm nest to make a life for myself meant that I would either be required to put down the money for food or attempt to cook for myself every day. My thrifty student budget did not provide the luxury to eat outside every day. The choice was obvious and the need immediate.
more toned triceps. One thing led to another and I realised that I’d reached my breaking point with cooking. I was making the same kind of food and despite Mallika Badrinath’s estimation of a recipe taking only 20 minutes, I managed to camp out in the kitchen for over an hour to cook up a curry and a rasam. And let’s not even get started about how long it takes to scrub out a burnt pressure cooker. It was time to switch things around. I really needed to vent my culinary frustration, but in a constructive way. It was time to learn something new. The answer came in the form of a baking lesson. Just like any other person who grew up in India, I always associated cakes with birthday and perhaps pastries and brownies as the one-off delicacies when out with friends. We’d always taken biscuits (or cookies as the Americans call it) for granted for they were always around in the house, be it cream biscuits, salted crackers, the good old Marie or the more posh chocolate chip one that was considered a special treat. So, I wasn’t particularly too excited when I learned that it was a cookie that would mark the start to my first ever baking lesson. But as the wise tell you, there is always more to it than what you can see or imagine. Of course, baking and cooking are two different institutions, each with their different complexities and scientific techniques. But as I fussed over measuring cups and spoons, I could not help but wonder how effortlessly my mom would eyeball the ingredients and make the end product taste perfect. No wonder time and experience are such important teachers. And there I was in a sunny kitchen rattling bowls, rolling dough, whipping eggs and butter, learning to make things I’d only read about in books: nutty biscotti, delicate scones, fluffy meringue, and the oh-so-buttery shortbread – the possibilities seemed endless. Initially I was intimidated by how much of a difference a leavening agent or even an egg makes to a recipe. Precision was the key and this idea was easy to follow but difficult to master. On the brighter side, there have been several times during the freezing winters when I would just turn on my oven, put in some gingerbread
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I had to learn to make a few basic things that would get me going quickly. And of course there would be several days of peanut butter sandwiches when nothing worked. With that thought calming my mind, I managed to survive off dal, rice, frozen rotis and a standard vegetable curry recipe that involved adding the same masalas to a different set of vegetables each time. If you’d asked me then, I’d have called cooking a chore and mumbled my way through my barely palatable dinner. Clocking a year in the US of A, the sweet cravings that were satisfied without fail back home, returned, and the canned Gulab Jamun from the sketchy Indian store no longer pleased me. I’m not really an impatient person by nature, but the idea of stirring a halwa for hours together wasn’t really up my alley, even if the only good that would come out of it might have been
Butter, Sugar and Imagination
Ramya Shankar
cookie dough and a few minutes later the house The last time I made a trip to India, I baked a large would not only be warm and inviting, but would batch of cookies and it was such an instant hit with smell absolutely divine. the family that my mother asked me to teach her how to bake. But I’m saving my baking lesson for What began as enthusiasm to learn a new skill soon when she decides to make a trip to this side of the changed to something I enjoyed doing. If you ask me world. Some things need to begin in the right place now, I would definitely say that I’m still not your av- and I don’t feel comfortable with baking in a kitchen erage person who spends a lot of time in the kitchen where she’s the boss. But as we brainstormed, we for the joy of cooking. I spend my Sunday afternoon chanced upon the idea of including baked goods as preparing my entire week’s meals and freezing return gifts during Navaratri. Although, the idea inithem. This way I can reheat my food on demand and tially seemed sacrilegious, it kind of grew on me. not worry about cooking or cleaning during the The times are surely changing, especially in the U.S. week. It is ironical because I still don’t have the mo- I’ve seen some of the temples here give pasta and tivation to cook up an elaborate meal for myself, but pizza for prasadam, so I wonder - why not make I thoroughly enjoy baking a hundred cookies for the brownies for Diwali and cupcakes for Krishna Jayanentire Computer Science department at the univer- thi? Now that baking has indeed captured my fancy, sity. I am sure I’ll give that a shot soon. Until then and I am still an amateur baker, but I do not miss out on later too, I would say, rejoice the cookie!
Given that experiments continue to be a part of my baking endeavours, I sometimes wonder whether I should perhaps take this experimenting to the next level, particularly during those times when I am reminded of how my mom would efficiently make a payasam, burfi or a halwa during festivals or auspicious days – something that I still feel I will struggle to achieve, given my inclination to cook.
Ramya Shankar has completed her Masters in Computer & Information Sciences. She has undergone training in classical music & dance in her earlier years. An adventurous person by nature, she loves to try new food, work-out, bake and express her thoughts through her honest words. Always effervescent, she is sure to light up a room with her big smile.
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a chance where I can get creative. In fact, one of my recent experimentations had been my version of a savory cookie involving garam masala and chopped jalapenos. However, the reactions were clear enough for me to not go that route ever again. Though these chances to do some large-scale baking may not come as frequently as I’d like them to, I have been lucky enough to always have people around who are eager and willing to try my experiments with butter, flour and sugar. Blowing my own trumpet might not be a good thing, but you have to taste my oatmeal peppermint chocolate chip cookie to vouch for its melt-in-the-mouth texture. It took five batches of cookies and severely saturated roommates’ tasting abilities to achieve the right proportion of ingredients. We were girls on a mission to perfect the oatmeal cookie recipe and according to us, the recipe is definitely patent worthy. If you think your recipe is better, we are up for a challenge.
Ramya Shankar
MONTH: MAY 2010 THEME: SEASONS CONCEPT: When you think May, you think summer and when we thought summer, we thought of Seasons. We decided to explore the joys and colours of the cycle of seasons. FEATURED WRITER OF MAY 2010: Preeti Shenoy, Author, ‘34 Bubble Gums & Candies’ and ‘Life is What You Make it’.
EDITORS’ NOTES
Summer, Winter, Autumn, Spring and the Rains—our contributors had something to say on all of these. However, the more interesting aspect of this issue was how the team took to interpreting this theme beyond what it literally meant. Seasons also meant exploring seasons in cinema, interpreting it as different stages in a (wo)man’s life and, looking into the future with caution, raising the all-important question—would our cycle of ‘seasons’ become a thing of the past for the future generations?
See the colours of Fall come alive with Vivekananth Gurumoorthy’s brilliant photographs. His pictures are a tribute to the May 2010 theme, ‘Seasons.’
The Colours of Fall
PHOTOGRAPHY
Vivekananth Gurumoorthy is an Engineer by profession, a photographer & fitness freak by passion and a humourist by default. He did his Masters in Analog IC Design from Texas A&M University College Station. His interests have varied between writing, cooking, playing the guitar and photography. But abusing his DSLR in the name of photography is the only one that survived. He has a fetish for electronic gadgets, good food and speed. If you ever find an Indian guy dressed in motorcyclist costumes, chomping down some Texan grub in Austin, try calling out Vivek.
Vivekananth Gurumoorthy
PHOTOGRAPHY Vivekananth Gurumoorthy
PHOTOGRAPHY Vivekananth Gurumoorthy
MONTH: JUNE 2010 THEME: DREAMS UNLIMITED CONCEPT: Dreams—they are a part and parcel of our lives. The biggest achievers, history has shown time and again, are those who dared to dream. This issue we asked people to dream— without any barriers. FEATURED WRITERS OF JUNE 2010: Rashmi Bansal, Author of ‘Stay Hungry Stay Foolish’ and ‘Connect the Dots’. Margareta Astaman, Indonesian Author.
EDITORS’ NOTES
Colourful dreams and inspiring stories—this is one issue that really made us feel as though we have taken off the ground and are floating in the air! That’s what dreams do to you, don’t they? While the dreamy interpretations held us enthrall, the inspiring stories interpreting the theme for ’aspiration’ showed to us that it is so important to dare to dream—and when you do, to borrow Paulo Coelho’s words, the Universe will conspire to make it come true for you!
Dreams
For Latha Prem Sakhya, her dreams are about elves or goblins. The sleeping mind is the stage for dreams, she says. Latha lends a poetic touch to the June 2010 theme, ‘Dreams Unlimited’.
Dreams - elves or goblins
Reducing them to shivering jelly.
Jauntily, stealthily, pervading Mind’s subconscious bowers
For me, dreams are elves
To lay siege to the sleeping mind -
With occasional goblins sneaking through
A stage for dreams,
Guiding me, leading me to realms strange
Enacted by elves and goblins,
Beyond ordinary ken; to revel
Depending on the themes chosen
In happiness, a light from the inner spirit
To unravel life’s mysteries.
Aiding me to pick my way through paths Un-trodden, filled with thorns and jagged stones
Comedy, romance, tragicomedy,
To reach my destination intact.
Revenge, horror and realistic dreams – A rich repertoire! All staged Without prior notice. The lone spectator - the conscious mind
Elves soothe, wafting the spectator to havens Of happy interludes, luck and prosperity. And the prancing goblins Representing themes of horror
POETRY
Sits agape as elves or goblins take the stage.
Latha Prem Sakhya is a poet at heart and a teacher by profession. She is very passionate about painting. Latha has published two books, MEMORY RAIN (2008) – a collection of 64 poems and NATURE AT MY DOORSTEP (2011) – a medley of her reflections, poems and paintings.
Rock the human body Sending tremors of trepidations Or suffocating the dreamer To emerge struggling for breath As if forcibly ducked in fathomless water
Latha Prem Sakhya
MONTH: JULY 2010 THEME: THE WRITTEN WORD CONCEPT: A literary magazine cannot feel complete without an issue solely dedicated to the joys of the written word. The July edition focused on the joys of writing and reading. FEATURED WRITER OF JULY 2010: Paritosh Uttam, Author of ‘Dreams in Prussian Blue’ and ‘Urban Shots’.
EDITORS’ NOTES
Magical! That one word would summarise the experience of publishing this edition. It truly was magical! Nothing excites a writer more than reading or writing about ‘writing’. This issue was one class apart and one that we loved putting together— also one that our contributors loved being a part of! We designed almost the entire issue in black and white, to give a beautiful theme such as this, its right and most-suited elegance. A must-read issue for the lover of the written word!
The joy of experiencing the beauty of the well-written word is priceless. P.R.Viswanathan describes the experience poetically, most apt for a piece celebrating the July 2010 theme, ‘The Written Word’.
The Written Word
Rhyme and meter faultless; style and syntax flawless Yet dull, insipid, tasteless; far too often do we read That certain genre of ‘cool’ writing Perfect in form but devoid of content Writing is not contrivance; not words strung together By lifeless pen on paper; or flat keys on computer.
Then one sees another kind and knows at once Volcanic thought and molten feeling have United, gurgled and churned deep within For days, for months, for years and then, The floodgates opened: unable to contain Words have poured out like lava Unfettered, rich, forceful.
The very heavens have seemed to clash Thunderclaps chasing lightning bolts And then the rain of words has poured
POETRY
Or that rough winds have raged about
P.R.Viswanathan is a born and bred Mumbaikar, a career banker and now a consultant in microfinance. After retiring and setting up as a consultant working from home, he has indulged his passion – writing. The subjects that interest him are parochial politics, microfinance, terrorism and deficit financing and above all India.
Forceful as a torrent - to sit up in awe Or gentle as a drizzle to gladden lovers’ hearts. And the trees below - lashed or gently washed Struck, provoked, enlightened and soothed in turn Soak in the juices to the end and for some time to come Their leaves glisten in the sparkling sun.
P.R.Viswanathan
MONTH: AUGUST 2010 THEME: INDIA DECODED CONCEPT: Think August and you can’t help but think of India. Therefore, the issue. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF AUGUST 2010: Aarti Mohan, Editor, The Alternative Anita Nair, Author, ‘Mistress’, ‘Ladies Coupe’ Deepa Venkatraghvan, Chartered Accountant and Author Devdutt Pattanaik, Mythologist and Author Hamsini Ravi, Journalist Hariharan Krishnan, Filmmaker Shantanu Bhagawat, Author of blog ‘Satyameva Jayate’
EDITORS’ NOTES
When we think of the first year of Spark, this is one edition we fondly look back at. It is one of those issues where we tried our hand at making a transition – in bringing many popular voices into one issue. For the first and perhaps the only time so far, we got seven different short-and-sweet interviews and columns on many aspects that define India. We also had two guest columns – by two non-Indians talking about what they love about the country. In all, a very memorable issue for the editorial team, the contributors and the readers.
India is the land of many things. Here’s a splendid photo essay by Jai Chabria, rightfully representing the August 2010 theme, ‘India Decoded’.
India through My Lens
Jai Chabria is one amongst a rare tribe of media-shy media professionals. When faced with a camera, he prefers to shock the photographer by running right round behind it. He is one of those who believe in their right to remain undiscovered and undescribed in any manner. This might shock him for, if a picture is worth a thousand words, then this hunter just got hunted and got captured in nineteen thousand.
PHOTOGRAPHY
The land of a billion footprints...
Jai Chabria
The land of anchored freedom...
PHOTOGRAPHY
The land of hidden rainbows...
Jai Chabria
The land of monsoon farming...
PHOTOGRAPHY
The land of delectable food...
Jai Chabria
The land of rituals...
PHOTOGRAPHY
The land of silent conversations...
Jai Chabria
The land of surprise showers...
PHOTOGRAPHY
The land of the watchful shepherd...
Jai Chabria
The land of unsigned artists...
PHOTOGRAPHY
The land of venerated guests...
Jai Chabria
MONTH: SEPTEMBER 2010 THEME: LEARNING AND LIFE’S LESSONS CONCEPT: September is a month when we honour teachers. The issue was in a way a tribute to what they impart—learning and lessons. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF SEP 2010: Anita Ratnam, Actor and Choreographer Geeta Ramanujam, Director, Kathalaya Meera Sivakumar, Teach for India Fellow S.Sowmya, Carnatic Vocalist Sathya Saran, Fashion Journalist and Author.
EDITORS’ NOTES
This turned out to be one of those serious and thoughtprovoking issues – why not when it sought to examine education and learning from as many aspects as possible! From arts to life’s lessons to special education, we had it all in this issue. We will remember this issue for the sheer variety in thought and discussion it boasted of. A must read for those who follow and appreciate the various aspects of education.
Do you think teachers are always the ones who impart knowledge? If you do, think again. Priya Gopal feels that there’s a lot to learn from children too and these are lessons for life. In a tribute to the September 2010 issue themed ‘Learning and Life’s Lessons’, Priya lists 10 important lessons she has learnt from children including her own students.
Having been an educator for over 16 years, I have time and again realised that the studentteacher relationship is a rather interesting one. While the most obvious reality is that the teacher is the one who imparts knowledge to the students, how often have teachers themselves looked carefully at some of the little but life’s crucial lessons that a student teaches the world? If I taught them to listen, speak, read and write, they taught me to perceive, communicate, interpret and inscribe. If I taught them skills to value life, they taught me the values to manoeuvre life. If I taught them the ABC of the English language, they taught me the ABC of
the English language, they taught me the ABC of the language of life. Here are the 10 most important lessons that I have learnt from observing children, including my students over the years. Allow the voice of your heart into your mind: 17-year-old Ronald was a talented dancer. He wanted to be a professional dancer and choreographer. Earlier, Ronald had very fervently shared his dreams with his teachers and lamented his inability to convince his mother. His mother wanted him to become a banker. Lending voice to his dreams, his teachers helped him convince his mother to follow his dreams. Today he travels the world and is an established choreographer only because the voice of his heart led his mind. Learn to listen not just to the voice of your mind but also the voice of your heart. Agree to disagree: Peer groups in class present multiple solutions to a situation only because they agree to disagree. Teenagers Rohan and Nishi have diametrically opposite views on almost everything. But since they usually agree to disagree, they create superior work. They know that once they do not step on each other’s toes, they are able to think and perform better. Ego finds room in many an adult heart and makes it difficult for an adult mind to disagree without rancour. Be passionate and recognise others’ passions: 12-year-old Krishna was never a go-getter in the classroom but every team wanted him in theirs. They knew he was the best footballer the school could have. He was passionate about football and his classmates cheered him for that. Kids are instinctively passionate. They know what drives them to aim for excellence. An adult in his quest for his own passion may many a time find it, but misses on seeing what accelerates others in life.
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Long after the tenets of the English grammar are forgotten, long after Shakespeare has been analysed and the précis been written and the dust has settled on the report cards, when the phone rings and a voice shrieks over, “Ma’am, I am in Mumbai, can I meet you? Do you remember me...?” and an animated voice continues without waiting for a reply, you know here is a student whose life you have touched. And yes, here is a student who has touched your life.
Role Reversal
Priya Gopal
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Chase to the finish: about what’s going to happen tomorrow. That’s Teachers usually wait outside a classroom, for why an undone assignment or homework doesn’t the previous class to be completed. Entry into a bother them much. The focus on one task hardly classroom doesn’t mean the beginning of the leaves them with time to even think about the class. More often than not, this is because stuother. But the satisfaction of completing the one dents are engrossed in completing a painting or at hand is more important than worrying about cracking a tough math problem or just winding the undone ones. ‘Next is what’, seems to be the up a diagram from the previous class. Kids chase motto of most grownups. ‘Now is life’ is what life to finish. They do not like to leave things half seems to be telling us through these kids. done. As adults we often move on to the next Recognise the good in others: task in our task list even when we have not comKids don’t look at others in his/her group thinkpleted one because we are so time-bound. ing, ‘Is he going to cheat me? Will he take me for Disorder is not always discordant: a ride?’ They just believe that everyone is intrinAdults like to be neat, organised and in charge of sically good. An adult, on the other hand, begins everything. Kids can be unruly, disorganised and with distrust. They believe the world is out to chaotic. But look hard and you will find a method cheat them. Why do we need the fine print in in the madness, calm in the chaos, a creation in almost every transaction? This is because we the confusion. An untidy classroom becomes an work on the premise that each one of us is out to obstacle course, a torn notebook becomes matecheat the other. rial for craft and the crowds in a compartment Dream big: begin to look like atoms in a solid. Disorder is not Almost every three-year-old wants to grow up always discordant. It lies within us to create a into an engine driver. What image could be more new order. powerful than wanting to control an engine that Let your imagination run riot: runs an entire train? But as we grow, we let go of Imagination sparks creativity but as we grow oldour dreams. Our dreams become smaller and er, we somehow tend to stop using our imaginasmaller in the daily grind of things and one day tion for the fear of being ridiculed. Kids do not we stand back and question ourselves: Where crave to fit into moulds or please anyone with did I begin from and where have I ended? Hold their ideas. They are true to their heart and their on to your dreams, fasten them tightly to your imagination always finds a freeway. They can be heart and one day they will be so big that you in space one moment or in the centre of the cannot ignore them. earth the next. That is only because they let their What is inside matters more: imagination run riot. Give any curious child (little or otherwise) a toy Live the moment: car and the possibility that he wants to know A student who focuses on the moment is more what’s inside is more than actually wanting to the rule than an exception in a pre-primary or play with it, reminds you that what is inside primary classroom. Undivided attention to the matters more than what is on the outside. And task at hand and the sheer joy of working on a that’s perhaps such a valuable lesson - do not get project is visible in the tired smile of a student carried away by outward appearances. Rememwho makes his submissions. Kids never worry ber to look within.
Priya Gopal
Priya Gopal
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Priya Gopal is the Section Head (CBSE) at the Curriculum Department of Kangaroo Kids Education Ltd., Mumbai. An educator by choice, teaching and interacting with kids is something that has enthused her over the last 16 years. Priya lives in Mumbai with her husband and two children. She blogs at http://keepsmilinginlife.blogspot.com
MONTH: OCTOBER 2010 THEME: FUN CONCEPT: After having two serious themes back to back, we decided it was about time we had some fun! Hence, the theme. FEATURED PERSONALITY OF OCTOBER 2010: Sidin Vadukut, Author of ‘Dork : The Incredible Adventures of Robert Einstein Varghese.’
EDITORS’ NOTES
Let our hair down, that’s what we did in the October issue. We looked at Fun in two ways – as something that makes you laugh and hence, humour and as something that brings you innate joy – something that you love doing or admire for the sheer pleasure it brings to you. Fun trips, rib-tickling humour and of course, a fan gushing over Rajinikanth – all of it found place in this edition!
Pork – that’s the clue to the funny piece that you are going to read. Be sure to laugh a bit as Anuj Agarwal sets out to narrate some incidents from a travel experience. His piece reflects the essence of the October 2010 theme, ‘Fun’. I have always enjoyed pork. I like the way it tastes in my mouth and I love the way it mixes and matches with other foods. Bacon even more so. There are very few things under the sun that can bring me so much joy as a plate of well- cooked piggy meat.
You could say that I love pigs, in a very “I love how you taste” kind of way. Well, this time the pigs decided to fight back. The following incident took place in Arunachal Pradesh during the first leg of our ‘The Great Indian Journey’. Perhaps a brief introduction is required here. Around two months prior to the incident I am about to relate, my dear friend (and fellow crazy bastard) Scooby, and I had decided that the only suitable way of marking the end (or was it the beginning?) of our edu-
cation was to travel to the four extreme corners of the country on the tightest possible budget. So there was Kibthu in the east, Leh in the north, Koteshwar in the west and Kanyakumari in the south. The town of Kibthu was to be our first “corner” marking the eastern tip of the country. The plan was to reach Tezu from Tinsukia in Assam and then take a bus to Hayuliang from where we would catch another bus which would take us to Kibthu. That was the plan. We had taken a train from Calcutta all the way to Tinsukia, where we spent a night before heading towards the great unknown. And that is when it happened. After an early morning departure from the wonderful railway retiring rooms of Tinsukia, we had taken a bus which would take us further eastwards towards Tezu in Arunachal Pradesh. The ride out of Tinsukia was beautiful yet surreal in its own way. There were army men patrolling the highway, rambling tea estates on both sides and a certain quietness in the air which seemed most unnatural. As if the peace and quiet were mere illusions. The condition of the road was quite good for the most part, till we reached this one stretch where we veered off the road completely and took a detour which supposedly saved us a couple of hours. I remember being thrown all over the bus as it lurched and bounced its way through the detour. I also remember the way the locals sat, unmoving and unperturbed, as if they had put Fevicol on their bums. Tezu was a nice, quiet little town and the officials there were quite helpful in getting us a reservation at the Inspection Bungalow in Hayuliang, which was to be our stop for the night. A quick lunch and a lazy stroll later, we haggled with what looked to be the only taxi driver in the entire place and managed to get two seats on the last taxi to Hayuliang.
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I like munching into crispy strips of bacon as they go “crunch crunch” between my teeth. I like the slightly sweet pork hidden inside Chinese steamed buns and I absolutely adore those delightfully crisp pork dumplings in How Hua, Calcutta, which have a crunchy base and gently steamed top - the ones that you bite into and feel the juices rushing into your mouth. I can respect a simple ham and cheese sandwich, toasted so that when I press down on the bread, some of the cheese slides out from between the slices of warm bread.
Pork is Good
Anuj Agarwal
All normal, all fine. We were patiently sitting in the white Sumo, waiting for the last of the passengers to arrive. We could have been in any small town in the country for all you know, so familiar was the entire situation. Except for THE pig.
Except (yes, alright so you have figured it out already), it was not rain. It was pig pee. The bloody pig on top of the car had decided to take a leak while the car was moving. Perhaps it was a protest pee. Who knows?
Yes, a proper, fully alive pig. Tied to the roof carrier of the car.
Said pee fell through the window, onto Shriek Lady and more than a few drops landed on yours truly.
On the roof lay our bags, the luggage of other passengers and then a live frikkin pig. Right on the roof. Oinking away occasionally. Apparently, Mr. Oink was to be the guest of honour at a wedding near Hayuliang. Perhaps Mr. Oink knew what he was being carted around for, since he would emit a few, resigned squeals now and then.
For a few moments I was in shock. Like proper “dude WTF� kind of shock. The lady next to me had already let loose some fairly not-too-polite words at the world in general and I valiantly tried to roll up the windows and avoid the downpour. But by then it was too late.
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Shriek Lady was doused in the stuff, the evil-smelling I was more than a little discomforted by this. Thus pee and I was the collateral damage. Scoobs, after a far, my interaction with livestock on public transport few seconds of stunned revulsion, proceeded to, had been fairly limited to say the least. Well, you live quite simply, laugh his ass off while Shriek Lady conand you learn I suppose. tinued to scream and shriek, directing her ire at the driver as if it was his fault somehow. I had a seat in the centre of the middle row of the taxi, to my left sat a middle-aged woman by the win- We would eventually reach Hayuliang after dark and dow. On my right sat a lean and quiet local, quite then spend a couple of tense hours finding the Incontent to stare out of the window and whistle a spection Bungalow. Later, we would take another tune every now and then. Scooby sat in front next to wild bus ride to Walong in between which I would the driver, slightly perturbed by the squealing pig get piss-drunk on some local brew. We would evenand the fact that he had managed to lose his mobile tually not make it to Kibthu due to a bureaucratic mix phone within the first three days of the Great Indian -up and spend three nights in Walong, barely thirty Journey. kilometers from Kibthu. Still later, we would freeze ourselves in Leh, dry our clothes on a railway station We must have been travelling for about an hour when the mountain section started. The air became in Punjab, stuff our faces with crab in Diu and then laze down the western coast of the country. In the a lot cooler and even though I was not by the window, the cold mountain air began brushing my face six weeks that the Great Indian Trip eventually took, there was much happiness, stupidity and general now and then. mucking about. Of all the memories that the trip And then it started to rain, except that this rain smelt would generate though, the one of the pissing pig absolutely horrible. And the woman next to me start- would be my favourite. By a long, long shot. ed to scream and shriek. And I remember thinking that this was one of the strangest reactions to rain I had ever witnessed, irrespective of how unpleasant the rain smelt.
Anuj Agarwal
After spending five years “studying” law in Calcutta (he was actually gallivanting across the north-east), Anuj spent two years litigating in the various courts of Delhi. Realising that his greatness lay elsewhere and NOT because he fired himself, Anuj recently shifted to Bombay. He now spends his time cursing the roads, loving the women, hunting down places to eat and building his character. And trying to make a living. He has four friends, two of whom can speak Manadarin and one of whom is imaginary. He blogs at www.kroswami.wordpress.com, compulsively checking the site stats every five minutes or so.
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Anuj Agarwal
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MONTH: NOVEMBER 2010 THEME: A TRIBUTE TO CHILDHOOD CONCEPT: True to the spirit of November, we picked up childhood as a topic to explore. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF NOVEMBER 2010: Kalpana Sharma, Indpendent journalist and columnist Radhika Menon, CEO, Tulika Publishers Raksha Bharadia, Author of many titles of Indian Chicken Soup series, ‘Roots and Wings : A Handbook for Parents’ and ‘All and Nothing’
EDITORS’ NOTES
Laugh, rejoice and be carefree. Childhood is one theme that sure would send anyone down memory lane. With the November 2010 issue, we went a step ahead and ensured that it wasn’t just memories that a theme such as this should evoke— we reined in aspects of childhood that are highly relevant today—social issues concerning children, as well as one that holds good for the future – the parenting style adopted today and the sort of future leaders it creates. Our interviews largely focused on these perspectives.
Five-year-old Tashu is a worried girl and there are enough reasons for her worry including her two slightly older cousins who are enjoying all the fun that comes from scaring her. Parvathi Jayamohan writes a story to celebrate the spirit of the November 2010 issue themed ‘A Tribute to Childhood’. Tashu’s Appa gave her one of his unfavourable looks. She wondered what it was that she did now. Her cousins stood beside her, consumed with silent joy. This couldn’t be good, Tashu thought. When Appa had walked over to his friends, Mittu and Mottu went close to Tashu and whispered as though the most magical moment ever awaited her, “You will get it from him for sure. Our Appa uses guava sticks. Valliappa is only going to slap you…he…he will, won’t he?”
Vishwa uncle had got out of the driver’s seat of the car, and his wife, Sarasu, from the other side. They had stood wearing beaming smiles. Tashu liked Vishwa uncle, he was a polished fellow with a French beard and tinted spectacles. Aunty had short curly hair which she left open and a nose stud on her tiny nose. She was alright, though Tashu knew she liked other little girls more than her. But Tashu disliked the club they and Appa belonged to, because at the club, with other adults around, they were a bunch of loud bores. Vishwa uncle stood by the car itself and asked, “Molu, is daddy home?” “Yes he is.” “There is a get together at the club tomorrow, are you coming?” “No way!” “Why? You should come to the club too. It will be lots of fun with you around.” “I am not coming to the club,” Tashu had said, rolling her eyes. “Why not? What’s so bad about the club?” “What’s so bad??” she had said indignantly and then spat sideways with what she believed was contemptuous humour. Vishwa uncle had laughed and Tashu had smiled. At five, Tashu couldn’t yet distinguish between laughs laughed because people were amused and laughs laughed to humour her. Her cousins had stood giggling, their mouths covered with the shoe plant leaves they had plucked for preparing the special oil.
FICTION
It all started when her Appa’s friends had drawn up their car onto the driveway. Tashu had been playing and fighting with her cousins. They were playing the shop game and debating heatedly on who gets to run the “shop”. The “shop” primarily sold sugar (white sand), rice (white sand again), hair oil (water mixed with the cellulose squeezed out of shoe plant leaves) and soap (empty packets of Lux). It was much more fun being the shopkeeper than the customer, because as a shopkeeper you got to weigh things in the balance, the sacred device that Tashu’s elder sister once constructed out of rope and coconut shells. So there were always two shopkeepers and one customer. The odd one out, the pushover was the customer, and Tashu wasn’t entertaining any nominations.
A Day in Tashu’s Life
“Go to your room and wait,” Appa’s voice had commanded from behind her, the abruptness of which had jolted Tashu. How long had he been standing there? Tashu had looked to her audience—Vishwa uncle and
Parvathi Jayamohan
Sarasu aunty were looking elsewhere and her cousins had stared at her with glinting eyes, their mouths still covered. She had turned to her Appa again to catch his unfavourable look and her cousins’ whispers.
marks?” Tashu picked up her naked Barbie. She wasn’t sure if she should explain, but she made a go of it all the same. “I was only trying to be funny, Appa…” “And how was it funny?” He snapped. Tashu said nothing. Her Appa left the room, locking the door Tashu did as her Appa told. Her cousins followed her behind him. But surely, they had all laughed, right? Tashu sat back, slouching on her bed and looked tointo the room. She sensed their purpose was torwards the closed bedroom window. From beyond, ture, but Tashu wanted company. As boys, they were more experienced in the ways of fatherly fury. Tashu heard the parting whizz of a car and her cousins laughing and playing. So no matter what they said, their presence rendered a sense of normalcy to the situation. Tashu still couldn’t believe it entirely. May be the moment will never arrive, when Appa comes over to scold and slap. Maybe her cousins were just thinking their hopes out aloud. But Appa’s face… the face wasn’t good… She had disappointed Appa. “Have I done something? Really?” Tashu asked her cousins, as she slid up her bed and grabbed a pillow. Mittu said nothing; he was too engrossed in undressing her Barbie. Her elder cousin, the one who was easier on her, took her blue glitter pen and wrote on her hand: Let’s see what happens and drew a Mickey Mouse.
Tashu didn’t know how bad it was this time. But she realised her crime had been the spitting. No saliva had left her mouth, it was only symbolic spitting. Tashu hoped it counted for something.
FICTION
Tashu knew her Appa wasn’t a violent man but he needed a means to distinguish between the degrees of misbehaviour. First degree misbehaviour: grim lips and “is this really how you should be behaving?” Second degree: straightforward scolding with character references, especially to stupidity. Third degree: the slap on the arm or the back.
Parvathi Jayamohan spends her time with books, family, friends and dogs. In the mornings she drinks excessive amounts of tea and in the evenings, she adds tomato sauce to everything she eats. She watches a lot of movies and sitcoms, but avoids foreign films. She prefers sea to mountains, even though she cannot swim. She doesn't laugh often, but flashes her teeth generously in awkward situations. When avoiding eye contact, she prefer the ceiling to the floor. She make new years’ resolutions and follows through on half of them. She likes being patted and hugged.
Her cousins slipped out as her Appa entered the bedroom. He didn’t slap her. He just stood there, looking straight at her and then asked, “How would you feel if someone spat in disgust at your nice re-
Parvathi Jayamohan
MONTH: DECEMBER 2010 THEME: THE PAST AND THE FUTURE CONCEPT: December is a month which positions us in the brink of change. A perfect point in time to look back and reflect and look into the future and dream. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF DECEMBER 2010: Dr.Michael Petraglia, Archaeologist Bhavani Prakash, Founder and Editor, EcoWalktheTalk
EDITORS’ NOTES
With the last issue of 2010, we wanted to look back and look forward. Therefore, an issue themed, ‘The Past and the Future’. We featured two interesting personalities in the month – an environmental activist and an archaeologist. It was quite an exciting time for us in other ways too. We had begun deciding on our next step forward, as Spark headed towards the completion of its first year. We wrapped up the year with a fairly light issue and truck loads of plans for our first anniversary issue.
Even memories are a shadow of what they once were, says Swetha Ramachandran, as they try to cling on to inanimate things. Swetha Ramachandran pens a poem to represent the December 2010 theme, ‘The Past and the Future’.
Memory Keepers Within the folds of a dried petal, Fighting for space inside old diaries, Hanging on to gift wrappers, And clutching the frayed edges of a letter; Memories take refuge, Through words and scents, Through colours and things.
Sometimes manipulated, Sometimes well preserved, Memories are, A shadow of what they once were, Pruned and altered by time, A figment, an illusion, Is how they remain.
When the hands of the Past wither, The memories begin to die too, But not wanting to let them go, It puts their soul into things old and new; Sometimes within a petal, Somewhere in the pages of a notebook,
POETRY
Fantasies, wild imagination, dreams, poetry, creative flashes, randomness, philosophy, silence, blah-ness; a little pinch of everything maketh Swetha. All that it takes to get her quirked up and enthusiastic is a dosage of good books, music or movies! Studying Advanced Zoology and Biotechnology, she has now started spinning dreams about her specialisation in genetics. So all you guys who want to make yourselves a clone, better get to know her!
In shiny gift wrappers, Or a frayed old letter!
Swetha Ramachandran
MONTH: JANUARY 2011 THEME: CELEBRATING CREATIVITY AND CREATION CONCEPT: Our first anniversary issue that focused on creativity and creation—the former the very basis of Spark, the latter of which Spark itself is an instance. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF JANUARY 2011: Agam, the music band Bhojan MoodSwings Jewelry Version One Dot Oh, Theatre Group
EDITORS’ NOTES
We were beaming the day we published our first anniversary issue. Honestly, all through the first year, ever since we dreamt up Spark, we had waited for this one moment – when we would hit the publish button of our first anniversary issue. It felt great and special. One year indeed was an achievement for us and we celebrated the occasion by moving to our own domain, stepping up the magazine’s look and bettering navigation and sharing options. We also featured four very inspiring stories of organisations and initiatives like ours that thrive purely out of passion.
Sandhya Ramachandran gives the perfect tribute to the first anniversary issue theme, ‘Celebrating Creativity and Creation.’ See creativity oozing out of sketches that Sandhya pencils around spilt chai.
When my Chai Spilled
a sip to see colours an illusion
ART
a flight of steps
of calm. agitated dust of tea seething in water a tandav of fury.
Sandhya Ramachandran
monster brown fleeing from my cup
ART
to spill some fear.
a flight to soar wings from the liquid a sudden squirt of imagination.
Sandhya Ramachandran
marks it leaves cup after cup
ART
one after another the doors open.
breeze and music voice of a madman a pen to scribble a note of romance.
Sandhya Ramachandran
a word to fetter to beckon from routine a cosy cuppa of lure.
ART
Sandhya Ramachandran is an aspiring filmmaker from the National Institute of Design who believes that globe-trotting might just help her find the meaning she is so desperately searching for, in life. When she is not talking philosophy, doodling or writing, she is spinning some airy dreams. She blogs at http://thedreamydryad.blogspot.com
Sandhya Ramachandran
MONTH: FEBRUARY 2011 THEME: EXPLORING RELATIONSHIPS CONCEPT: Taking one step forward from last year’s theme, we decided to explore all sorts of relationships including love. FEATURED WRITER OF FEBRUARY 2011: Mridula Koshy, Author, ‘If it is Sweet’.
EDITORS’ NOTES
The February 2011 edition was a rather light issue, particularly after all the work that we had put in for the anniversary issue. Thanks to our improved sharing options, Spark reached more people and it delighted us no end, when we realised that more and more people were knocking at our door(or should we say our inboxes?) , wanting to be part of the team! Our interview with Mridula Koshy remains to this day, one of our most favourite conversations with an author.
Vishruthi is waiting for someone as the waves go about their business in the busy city of Mumbai. Who is she waiting for and what’s the meeting going to be all about? Parth Pandya writes a story to convey the essence of the February 2011 theme, ‘Exploring Relationships’. Vishruti gazed at the vast expense of the Arabian Sea as it caressed, cajoled and lashed the city of Mumbai. She had been sitting on the shore for a while now. She looked at her watch. 5:55 pm. It is about time.
Vishruti’s thoughts wandered to a nondescript building in the city which contained her flat. “Vishruti and Pranay”, said the nameplate outside their door. Two names, one home. An equal and obvious partnership. Vishruti and Pranay had been married for six years. “Let’s
get married,” Pranay had said. Was it a proposal? A suggestion? An order? It was hard to say. It was a typical Pranay statement. There was a lot lost in translation before his thoughts reached the tip of his tongue. Vishruti had an inbuilt decoder though. She understood. She agreed. She got married. Life happened. She never once questioned it. Not when she fell in love with him, not when his presence filled her very existence, not when they came away from family to build their own little space, not when the years passed by with nary a change in their relationship. She imagined her complete surrender to the life she had fashioned with Pranay as keeping up her part of the bargain. She saw a boy playing among the waves. She smiled. What would it be like to have a child of my own, she thought? Almost immediately, she castigated herself for that thought. She pursed her lips and took another look at her watch. 6:15 pm. The sun had begun its slow descent into the vast wet abyss of the sea. “Hi,”,came a voice from behind Vishruti, straining to be heard over the noise of the waves. Vishruti let a full minute pass before she responded with the only word she could muster, despite the million thoughts floating in her mind: “Hi”. The two women sat down on the bench to watch the sun dip away some more, both glad for the sounds of the evening fill in the silence between them. They had spent moments sizing each other up – like gladiators who realise that it is the warrior wielding the weapon that had to be gauged.
FICTION
Vishruti knew that her appointment for the evening would be met on time. It was among the dossier of things she had put together about Aakansha. Aakansha Shrivastava. She was a writer, Vishruti had surmised, working for a daily newspaper in Mumbai. That aside, there was nothing remarkable about her that Vishruti could gather. She could turn a few heads when she entered the room, she could elicit praise for being bubbly if she tried hard, she could raise a storm and drink an ocean if she really put her mind to it, she could be the void that made others want to protect her … Vishruti took a deep breath. A little voice in the back of her head reminded her to remain objective. Jealousy really could render objectivity useless.
The Illusion
“I thought you wouldn’t come,” said Vishruti. “I almost didn’t. I was not sure what purpose this would serve.” “I suppose you never thought I’d never find out about you. But I did. Pranay really shouldn’t have left his lap-
Parth Pandya
top unlocked. And here we are.”
from the sky above. She saw it clearly – the losing “We often came here,” continued Vishruti. “Me and hand had been dealt to her. She had been made a bystander in her own marriage, the outsider in a Pranay. Sitting by the rocks. Walking on the sand. crowd of three. Talking about how the week went. A new place to eat. India’s chances at the World Cup. It was nothing She rose from her seat. She was not stunned by the in particular, and yet everything. We were happy. I betrayal of her faith. She was stunned by her own know I was, and I thought he was too. And yet, here I refusal to make peace with it. She looked at am with you, left with one simple question. Why?” Aakansha and said, “You are right. The decision is Vishruti’s tears streamed down her face. She didn’t mine to make.” As her hand reached inside her purse, she looked at the other woman with an unexrealise that she had dug her nails deep into Aakansha’s hand. No answer came from Aakansha. pected degree of pity in her eyes.
with a married man, but that did not stop her. Or him. No, she wouldn’t apologise for what she never believed to be wrong. Vishruti eventually stopped crying and let go off her grip. “A man I thought I knew so well has become a mystery to me.” “What would you have me do, Vishruti? I can’t express regret for something I never was sorry about. And I can’t answer for Pranay. Perhaps some questions are best left unanswered. I can’t leave Pranay, but I can share him, as I have so far. You are the one who needs to make a decision here.” The light drained away from Vishruti’s face, as it did
Parth Pandya is a passionate Tendulkar fan, diligent minion of the ‘evil empire’, persistent writer at http:// parthp.blogspot.com, self-confessed Hindi movie geek, avid quizzer, awesome husband (for lack of a humbler adjective) and a thrilled father of a precocious two-yearold boy. He grew up in Mumbai and spent the last 11 years really growing up in the U.S. and is always looking to brighten up his day through good coffee and great puns.
FICTION
She absorbed the bruises from Vishruti’s grip, taking In a country of more than a billion, you can rarely in her hatred, her confusion, her need to underhave a loud noise not attract any attention. Those stand. She didn’t apologise though. She wouldn’t. who rushed at the loud crack of a sound that day “Care to comment?” Aakansha had asked him, when would recollect going to the seashore and finding a he had indulgently checked his BlackBerry while she young woman standing ever so calmly over another impatiently waited for him to comment on his com- one sprawled on a seat. They would say that they pany’s accounting malpractice scandal. His piercing could not forget the look of shock in the woman lybrown eyes had then settled their gaze on her. Once ing down and the absolute lack of emotion in the he had tackled all her questions, he responded with eyes of the other, standing motionless, rooted to her one question of his own. It must have been the spar- place. They would remember her telling the constable to send an ambulance to an address that she kle in his eyes when he asked her that led her to seemed to know all too well. “There is a man there agree to a dinner that evening. One dinner led to another and then some more. There were no secrets who needs it. You’ll know the flat when you get there. The nameplate says ‘Pranay and Vishruti’.” from the start. She knew she was getting involved
Parth Pandya
MONTH: MARCH 2011 THEME: A TRIBUTE TO WOMANHOOD CONCEPT: In line with Women’s Day being celebrated in March, this month was the perfect time to bring out a women’s special issue. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF MARCH 2011: Indian Homemaker, Blogger Mallika Dutt, CEO, Breakthrough Shaheen Mistri, CEO, Teach for India Urvashi Butalia, Director, Zubaan Books
EDITORS’ NOTES
The March 2011 is very special to us for the people we featured as our ‘Voices of the Month’. Their life stories were so inspiring and the conversations so enlightening that we felt truly honoured to have spoken to Shaheen Mistri, Mallika Dutt, Urvashi Butalia and Indian Homemaker. Inspiring, thoughtprovoking and serious – that’s how the edition turned out. If Women’s Studies is a topic of interest for you, then this is an issue you must check out!
The way a woman is dressed almost decides her personality and fate. A woman’s dressing sense is seen as the reason for sparking sexual harassment from eve teasing to rape. Why does it have to be so? Meera Sundararajan explores this serious issue from different perspectives. Her write-up is in line with the March 2011 theme, ‘A Tribute to Womanhood’.
Thinking back, I cannot but deny the wisdom of those words. Why do we women constantly feel embarrassed about our bodies? Why are we apologetic about having breasts or showing our legs? I think the answer lies in the way society is organised. In male dominated societies such as ours, a woman’s life and the rules that govern it are not hers. By extension, her sexuality is also not within her control. Families try to control it, reining it in through what they term “modest dressing”! So does that mean we have to limit ourselves to what is acceptable to society?
Before I answer that question, I would like us to reflect about what this “society” is. It is a collection of people like you and me. While it still continues to be male dominated, education and economic opportunities have provided spheres for women to exercise choices. When it comes to the ability to exercise a choice and express herself though, society frowns upon a woman who tries to divert from the so-called “accepted norms”. These norms, like behaviour, are governed by unwritten rules which everyone follows. Parents (usually mothers) impose them on daughters as part of her upbringing. A girl from a “good family” is not expected to dress in a certain sort of way. It is funny that families should rate themselves based on the way their women dress! The argument that is often given about the need for “modest” dressing is safety, which, I think, is probably the biggest myth going around! On the face of it, we can argue that it’s not just women who are dressed immodestly face any violation on the streets. But let us examine the reasons behind this idea more closely. Dress codes are normally governed by culture which is diverse. It changes with societies. For instance a woman in West Asia would be considered “immodest” if she were to leave her head uncovered while in India, covering the head is not a “modesty” requirement. So the issue is whether these so called “safety” concerns would change across regions. On the face of it, the answer would be YES. But if we look deeper to see what drives this need for “modest” dressing, it is something I had mentioned earlier – this societal desire to control a woman’s sexuality. Expressing sexuality in a way an individual desires is part of her or his ability to exercise choices. In patriarchal societies such as ours, this is one of the major challenges for women – the freedom to exercise a choice of any sort. Most often, decisions even with regard to her
NON-FICTION
I remember an incident in college. We were getting ready to go for a movie and I could not find my dupatta. As I spent the precious few minutes left searching frantically for it, I was annoying those half a dozen friends who were crowded in my room waiting for me to leave. I finally decided to go without it, all the while feeling most self-conscious, until one of my friends asked me, “What is your problem? Why are you so embarrassed about your body?”
My Dress , My Bane
Meera Sundararajan
own life are made for her by others. So it is not surprising that when a woman tries to express her sexuality or her creativity in her dressing it is perceived as a rebellion against “culture, tradition” etc. Even the basic factor of convenience or comfort – such as preferring a pair of jeans over salwar kameez, for instance – is perceived as an expression of her sexuality and therefore to be interpreted as a “come hither” message for all males around!
ity too is something at his command. He gets threatened when she exhibits it confidently and therefore tries to react by calling her a “slut”. And it is not just men who think that way, there are thousands of women who are also trained to think that way – they envy another of their kind who has the confidence that they lack!
What is worse, this moral policing is accompanied by character judgments determined simply by the way she dresses. We hear words like “loose” woman, “cheap” girl thrown about casually. But seriously, isn’t a woman’s character all about honesty, integrity and values than the extent to which she displays or covers her body parts? If a woman’s cleavage disturbs a man, it’s a reflection of his character – he should avoid looking at it!
codes assisting in maintaining these power relations.
This resistance to change is also exhibited by the law enforcers themselves who are actually expected to As a society we are a bunch of hypocrites. We talk protect citizens. The recent “Slut walk” event about education and employment for women but we planned in December at Bangalore did not receive have not evolved to the extent where we are compolice permission on reasons of “security”. The fortable dealing with a woman’s confidence. We world’s largest democracy is unwilling to accept a would like her to have skills and knowledge just so peaceful protest march simply because the “larger that she can continue to contribute to the workforce society” does not approve of it, perhaps because the in any sector and bring in much-needed money into police are after all a part of this same society subject the house. But the moment she starts expressing to the same prejudices! herself – either through her sexuality or individuality There have been studies that have clearly proved – we feel threatened. What we see in the form of that rape is not about sexual attraction but about “moral policing” is nothing but a kind of public out- power. It is the power exercised by men over women rage that women are breaking open those silken for transgressing those invisible boundaries in their shackles and treading ahead. lives, with an entire “support system” including dress
Meera Sundararajan works for what she calls the “change marketing” sector, otherwise known as the NGO sector. She has been “selling change” for nearly two decades now. Meera blogs at http:// meerareflections.blogspot.com
NON-FICTION
Any kind of change is usually met with resistance from both within and outside. Our own socialisation as women has been such that we are taught to dress in a certain way and we are scared about coming out of that thought process despite our education and economic independence. With regard to external resistance, yes, there are men who still think that a woman is a man’s property and therefore her sexual-
Dressing, therefore, is a very complex issue. It is a nuanced expression of power structures in any society. in the name of “culture”, a woman carries around her the restrictions that society has imposed upon her. We have a long way to go, but the fact that some women are breaking out of these codes is a beginning; here’s hoping this is accompanied by realisation that one section of the society has no right to control another’s choices!
Meera Sundararajan
MONTH: APRIL 2011 THEME: AS YOU LIKE IT CONCEPT: Give the themes a break. And you get a break too. Choose as you like it. FEATURED PERSONALITIESOF APRIL 2011: Abha Iyengar, Poet and Writer. Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Author of ‘The Mistress of Spices’, ‘The Palace of Illusions’ and ‘One Amazing Thing’ RJ Pavitra, Senior Producer and Radio Presenter, Radio One, Bangalore Karthik Kumar, Film and theatre actor, Director, Evam and Sideways Training
EDITORS’ NOTES
Do what you please – well, that’s essentially what we told our contributors with our April 2011 issue. And they did, coming out with such a flamboyant display of ideas and creativity that we had a tough time putting it all into one issue. Our interviews in the issue were diverse too – from writers to a radio jockey to a theater and film actor, it was variety at work, in its stupendous form, to say the least!
Maheswaran Sathiamoorthy decided to give us some lovely portraits in response to our theme suggestion—’As You Like It’. So here he is, making a tribute to the April 2011 issue.
From Right Above!
PHOTOGRAPHY Maheswaran Sathiamoorthy
PHOTOGRAPHY Maheswaran Sathiamoorthy
PHOTOGRAPHY
Maheswaran Sathiamoorthy graduated with a B.Tech degree from IIT Kharagpur and is currently a graduate student at the University of Southern California. His interests include counting bokehs and taking out of focus shots. He also likes being unpredictable, random and enjoys coffee and 0000FF sky. He is so interesting that his friends eat popcorn while talking to him!
Maheswaran Sathiamoorthy
MONTH: MAY 2011 THEME: MY PLACE MY SOUL CONCEPT: Here’s a theme that gave us a chance to look at places and travel from a very personal perspective. FEATURED WRITER OF MAY 2011: Bishwanath Ghosh, Journalist and Author, ‘Chai, Chai : Travels in Places Where You Stop But Never Get Off ’.
EDITORS’ NOTES
This was one of those interesting topics that brought in a common perspective emerging from all the contributions – the human connection to a place that makes it almost like a relationship rather than a mere destination. It isn’t much about mud and trees and mountains and terrain or anything geographic so to speak, but about feelings, an invisible bond, a certain madness and pure experience. The editorial team was pleasantly surprised by this common feature that emerged because this was rather an outcome of the theme than a notion that led to the theme.
When you have lived in a place that has touched your soul in ways more than one, your writing of that sublime experience will be nothing less than divine. Balaji Iyer celebrates the spirit of Bangalore, a city that has shown him many things magical. The writeup is a tribute to the May 2011 issue themed ‘My Place, My Soul’.
Ask any Indian to speak of Bangalore, and they will sigh “The weather…”. Ask a native Bangalorean however, and they frown “The weather…”. This dichotomy about the weather always confused me; for an outsider it is always cool, always clean and calm, the weather just right – an Englishman’s fantasy. For the native Bangalorean however, it is too hot. Too dusty, too windy and too humid, not cold enough and it isn’t misty yet, even though December has come and is already almost gone. Every city in India professes to a certain amount of urban
rhetoric. Mumbai is the stuff dreams are made of. Delhi is brash but moneyed and Kolkata is socialist but cultured. Chennai has its seaside and music – Kutthu to Kalyani. Hyderabad lives in the decayed opulence of the Nizams and rolls in the film industry’s moolah. Even upstarts like Patna and Cochin are building legends for themselves. In this soiree peopled by cities, Bangalore is the dilettante. New, unsure of herself but with a hint of pride, slowly shedding off her ‘garden city’ and ‘pensioner’s paradise’ tags, she struggles to capture her ‘je ne sais quoi’. Every tourist guide can blather out a list of blahs to visit in Bangalore, but its true beauty lies in its lanes – with insane trees blooming away out of control, among tidy, staid houses. And the best way to tour Bangalore is to walk, not just because the traffic drives perfectly sane people into committing horrendous acts of murder. Reflected in the glass fronted high rises of Bangalore, is another city in hiding. One that packs enough charm to melt the heart of a traffic-hardened, battle weary Indian. The trick is to find that city, get there and enjoy it before it is ground up to rubble to make space for that new mall. There is that lane with antique, colourful pots, and that one where old Christian ladies bake and bake, and never tire of feeding strangers. There is a street, where the smell of jasmine hits one so strongly, almost like a drug. Then there is that street, the most quintessential of all in Bangalore, which goes nowhere and does nothing, but simply is, in beautiful stasis, frozen in perfection for eternity. And then there are the malls, overflowing with human detritus in the weekends, smelling of sweet sweet cash. Follow the fendi wearing women (at a distance and at your own risk) and they eventually lead to well kepthouses, with wild gardens, with conifers and coconuts growing side by side. Clearly this is a city that still believes in simple living and high spending.
NON-FICTION
There is no ‘outside’ in Mumbai, or in Chennai, Boston or San Francisco. But in Bangalore where I live, there is an outside. And it is magnificent, a presence in itself, making the inside seem redundant. Out of my door stretches a sun drenched terrace and a moon soaked roof. Coconut leaves fan the sweating tiles and stray petals of paper flowers flit about, their nonchalance leading them to ugly drain pipes. A wise koel rules from her perch, and sings throatily, lustily in that pre-dawn, when everything is fresh and new. Somehow it is always the same, my terrace. The same cool breeze, just the right amount of sunlight and just the perfect drizzle.
Outside
Balaji Iyer
What clinched the deal for me, so to speak, in the end, were its bookstores. Not just the sheer number of Crosswords and Landmarks (with their very wide selections, and hair-straightened celebrity talkshows) but also the little bookstores. Every Bangalorean who can string together letters knows of that one elusive bookshop, where you could get that last copy of Maugham in the whole world. There are bookshops with tottering piles of books where one can get lost, and emerge only to spot an even older bookshop across the street. There is a shop, tucked into a tiny, leafy lane in Malleshwaram where the shopkeeper watches your picks with his beady eye. And if you pick classics, he will tap you heartily on the back, pour you a cup of the best filter kaapi from
his ancient thermos and send you packing without letting you pay. Of course I’m not telling you where it is. It’s my secret, that piece of knowledge that I can parade, to claim to be a true Bangalorean. Early in April this year, I nearly shocked myself to a stop at the sight of a jacaranda in full bloom. The entire thoroughfare looked transformed, a wild riot of violets raining upon the insane traffic below. A week later, they died and other pink flowers came. It was a riotous celebration of sorts, a magic that suffused the air, beautifully nauseating, sickly sweet and very Bangalore. In the end, Bangalore achieves perfection not so much from being itself, but from a little borrowing: part aggression, part passivity, part order and part chaos. Much like its weather.
Balaji Iyer loves to read, eat and travel (sometimes doing all together). He also likes music and maps. He blogs at http://idlichutney.wordpress.com
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Certainly a city’s identity owes at least a part of itself to food. The stomach cannot be wrong, I said to myself and set out to sample what the city offered. And did it offer! I ate fluffy flowery idlis under blooming champak trees, ate famous branded idlis after standing in line for forty minutes (almost edged out by sly old women), I ate an idli that was steamed in a banana leaf, its very identity circumspect because of its brown colour, but it tasted divine nevertheless. And then I ate dosas, of which Bangalore has a bewildering variety to offer, even to jaded south Indians who think they’ve eaten it all. In the span of a week, I sampled dosas dripping with ghee, dosas with exotic chutneys, dosas with the crunchiest of skins and delicate insides, dosas which looked one way and tasted quite another, dosas with delightful bites of jaggery within and dosas with crisp chillies sewn into their lattice being. I ate at the chic hard rock café, at the expensive TGIF, I moaned under the weight of Italian brunches with fake bruschetta and ate a pungent bony hilsa under the watchful gaze of a few worried Bengalis. To keep myself alert, lest I miss the best morsel of grub this city has to offer, I drank filter coffee by the barrel, hot and strong, the way Bangalore likes it. I liked it too.
Balaji Iyer
MONTH: JUNE 2011 THEME: MOVIE MAGIC CONCEPT: A magazine’s journey is incomplete without an issue that pays tribute to cinema. So for our June issue, we decided to do just that. FEATURED WRITER OF JUNE 2011: Jai Arjun Singh, Freelance writer, Journalist and Author of ‘Jane Bhi Do Yaaro’ and ‘The Popcorn Essayists’.
EDITORS’ NOTES
What’s life without cinema? Having earnestly pursued themes for a while, we thought it would be a good idea to dedicate one issue to movies just like we had done for the written word in 2010. Again, interesting varied perspectives are what we got as responses to the topic. From music to stage adaptations to movies to tele-films to the very experience of watching movies, we had it all in this edition. Movie lovers, check this out!
We sure are not going to play spoilsport by saying what film Yayaati Joshi has picked to revisit and share his personal view. Since we say film, you may have already guessed which theme this piece has set out to honour. Yayaati’s article is written to celebrate the spirit of the June 2011 issue, ‘Movie Magic’. Riddle me this: Which is that one Indian film that many people claim to have seen over 50 times? Ok let me drop a hint –you don’t need one, if you read the title of the post.
Sholay – my earliest memories of this landmark film are of watching the movie in a cinema hall as a seven-year-old. And at that age, it looked pretty good. Even later, every time I saw it, there was something about it that I really liked. Each time I discovered a different thing or theme about the film that I hadn’t noticed in the previous viewing. I’ve seen the film around six times, and the last time I saw it was about six years ago. Now this “gap” is important in a couple of ways – for one, it tells me that at least in the case of this movie, my memory serves me well – I still remember most of the film. The other thing, which is more of a personal lament, is that I now rarely
get to watch the television, and I miss out on several good movies that are regularly shown. Sholay is the perfect entertainer – it has something for everyone in its wide gamut of themes. Even as a sevenyear-old kid of average intelligence, I understood Veeru’s frustration and anger on losing his friend; the bad, bearded guy will be beaten up badly, I remember telling myself. Subsequently, when I watched the movie a few more times, other aspects of the film, not just the fight scenes and Veeru’s foolery (which was amusing), became apparent. One thing that I really ‘missed out’ on (as a kid) was the hint of a subtle “romance” between Jai and Radha. There was this much talked about scene in which Radha blows out the burning lamps, while Jai’s gaze is directed at her. Now the way this scene is described here may make it seem like a totally romantic shot, whereas in the film, it actually looks astonishingly simple. This is where the acting comes in handy – without even exchanging words, it is made evident that there is something more than just a ‘passing intrigue’ happening between the two. The other thing that I missed out was the dry humour of Jai – the first few viewings were always about the train “fight” (as a kid, all sorts of action, even the types shown in Independence Day, was categorised broadly under “fighting”). When I saw it for the last time, much to my delight, Jai’s humour was what I enjoyed the most. Usually, the funny bits of Sholay are along the lines of those done by comedians employed for that specific purpose. But one scene from the film, which to me is funnier that anything else in the movie, is Jai’s description of his closest friend. This is during the aged, insecure mausi’s attempt to find out more about Veeru – as is still the custom in a lot of arranged marriages. One after the other, Jai highlights, with slight exaggeration, his friend’s quirks – drinking, gambling, keeping the company of nautch-girls, while being very
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Well, for those who thought the answer was Andaz Apna Apna, my apologies, I was referring to Sholay. For those who got it right, let’s do a high-five! It is tempting (and tedious as well) to write about Sholay. In this personal essay, though, I have restricted myself to writing about a few (usually unnoticed) aspects of the film.
Revisiting a Popular Film
Yayaati Joshi
“supportive” of his friend’s benign intent to marry Basanti. After hearing all this, with a philosopher’s “I knew it” countenance, the mausi remarks that despite many foibles, Jai is very supportive of his friend. To this, Jai remarks, with a certain thanking expression on his face, “Mera to dil hee kuch aisa hai” (More that the literal translation, it is the intent which is important here. After messing up, Jai masochistically sums up that he is too kind hearted not to like his close friend, the foibles notwithstanding).
upon IMDB) was that this was Amjad Khan’s debut film. I was told this at a time when the word ‘Internet’ was so new that I hadn’t even created an email account. And obviously, in the absence of Wikipedia and IMDB, it was hard to verify such claims. Later, when I did familiarise myself with IMDB, I looked up the filmography section on Amjad Khan, and realised that although Sholay wasn’t his debut film, he was a relatively new actor when he did the film. It really would have been tough for a less expeBefore Sholay, Amitabh was always cast as the angry rienced actor to act as Amjad Khan did in Sholay. My admiration for his talent and the movie’s magnifiyoung man and his roles were such that it would have been impossible for someone to expect him to cence continues to increase despite the film getting ‘older’. “do comedy”. Perhaps the only “funny film” that Amitabh did prior to Sholay was ‘Bombay to Goa’. Older films, sometimes even the ones that aren’t And it wasn’t as if after Sholay, Amitabh was bomworthy of the edification, are often termed as barded with offers where he had to play a funny role; “classics”. But Sholay, because of its flawlessness is given the grandeur of the film, Amitabh’s comic act truly a classic – a film that shouldn’t just be watched was carefully concealed while other plot-based prior- – it should be ‘studied’. Watch it again, and you are ities were placed first. sure to be entertained by some facet or the other.
Yayaati Joshi is a man with simple tastes and intense beliefs. Contrary to the bling associated with the capital city, he prefers the company of close friends, an engaging book or an Alfred Hitchcock movie. His placid demeanour is often mistaken for reticence; Yayaati is a self- proclaimed loner, whose recent pursuits include his foray as a budding writer. Yayaati blogs at http:// rantingsofadelusionalmind.wordpress.com
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As a film, Sholay has perhaps more folklores associated with it than any other Indian film. It was released at a time when its genre was not known to many people. Now, most critics and film historians classify it as a “Western” film, but back then, were the masses even aware of the “Western” films of Hollywood? How many people would have seen ‘Once Upon A Time In The West’ from which Sholay is supposed to have been inspired? But the ‘stories’ around the making of the film have been primarily about how Amitabh and Dharmedra felt about sharing screen space with each other, how the film was important in bringing Jaya and Amitabh closer (the couple’s daughter was born around the time Sholay released) perhaps to be ‘separated’ shortly, thanks to Rekha. Obviously, gossip mongers had had a hard time then, in the absence of the Internet! Gossip aside, one such legend, the veracity of which I could not verify for several years (before I stumbled
Yayaati Joshi
MONTH: JULY 2011 THEME: TYING THE KNOT— WEDDINGS AND MARRIAGES CONCEPT: The most celebrated and perhaps the controversial part of a person’s life. We explored weddings and marriages in this edition. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF JULY 2011: Maniyarasan Rajendran, Associate Faculty, NID, Ahmedabad Oormila Prahlad, Cartoonist Usha Shantaram, Artist.
EDITORS’ NOTES
For the first time, we featured an artist, a photographer and a cartoonist as our ‘Voices of the Month’, projecting ‘Weddings and Marriages’ through their work. July 2011 also meant one and a half years of publishing Spark. To mark the occasion, along with the issue, we also brought out our first print-ondemand book titled ‘Sparkling Thoughts’ – an anthology of the interviews and columns featured in Spark from January 2010 – June 2011. We consider it one of the important milestones in Spark’s journey.
What if humans are no longer what they actually are? What if there is no earth but only E-2 or Etu or Earth-2? What if ‘Love’ is no longer a word that exists in that planet? What if one of the inhabitants discovered the word ‘Love’ by sheer accident? From Etu with Love is Preeti Madhusudhan’s answer to these questions. Preeti’s story is her take in conveying the essence of Spark’s July 2011 issue themed ‘Tying the Knot – Weddings and Marriages’.
the first inhabitants, to obliterate painful memories of their home-planet that might impede the growth of the fledgling Etu. Words with a negative connotation ceased to exist. One word in particular was vehemently shunned by the founders: Love. The word and the emotions associated with it were thought of as central to the agony of the humans. A dull feeling of foreboding filled Flora as she looked up at Enes again. Today was her wedding. She wiped her moist hands on her overalls again. She willed the Enes to glow a “Peppy Pink” to match her overalls. All of the 2.5 million inhabitants of Etu and the visual media including newscast-display boards and advertisement billboards, had received a message earlier that morning from the Central System- Ceeyes, with specific instructions as to how to perceive her and telecast her image. Unless they were directed in certain instances as to their perception and behaviour, the inhabitants enjoyed the rare liberty of visually correcting their environs to suit their mental make-up. Though they were in a state of eternal bliss, not having a frame of reference except for the catastrophically savage images of planet Earth, they were afforded the option of the cosmetic over-ride switch which also fell in line with their theology of “All that looked well is well”. So the Enes, while being a “Peppy Pink” to Flora could be a million other shades to the million other inhabitants. Iro on the other side of that housing colony dressed in a complementary blue overall was flushed with excitement. He was as Peppy as “Peppy Pink,” he told himself. He willed the Enes glow the standard factory-Steel-Gray. He did not want an effusion of enthusiasm from above. His adrenalinemeter registered a “top-of-form” status in all the relevant intra-web-links and the next instant, his message screen was flooded with offers from sports and recreation society notices.
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The Enes glowed with a dull gray light. This was its color by design, the standard display mode unless willed otherwise by the humanoid perceiving it. The apocalyptic outcome of the Fifth Petroleum War or PW5 had all but erased the earth of its war-ravaged, gaunt life-forms. Whatever could be salvaged was deposited in a space capsule that landed in a dwarf-planet in the Kuiper belt. From a space-capsule to a self-contained, shy nation, Etu had grown steadily. Etu, E-2, Earth-2. Enes, NS, NeoStratosphere was designed to stimulate earthlike visual conditions to acclimatize the first batches of the humanoids that were doubted to have more than just traces of the human DNA, to the un-earthly though life-preserving atmosphere of Etu. The governing council at Etu monitored and guided all the inhabitants through their embedded identification chip that could be accessed by and manipulated by the council. No one thought of it as manipulation, as the inhabitants were blissfully unaware of that word. Certain words were deleted from the dictionary that was uploaded in the chip of
From Etu with Love
Preeti Madhusudhan
“Not today,” he mentally deleted them all, setting aside the message from the Ceeyes with information on Flora, in a personal folder at a special reserved corner at the bottom of his medulla-oblongata. He had read it a few hundred times since he received the message seven days back. He had immediately been thrilled (and his screen sensing his palpitations and endorphin rush had puked forth a profusion of advertisements for resorts by the sulphur lakeside, plasma procreation cocoons and the likes) and had looked forward to the hour with mounting eagerness. He knew the drill. He had had a week to train a colleague to take over his position in the agency and make provisions for liabilities and commitments like library material, on-going research, pet-life forms or robotic-servants. The chosen couple would be transported to a secret location for two months in which time they would procreate and return to their former lives. The female would deliver seven months thence in a Ceeyes hospital, leaving the infant in government care and return to her former occupation. No mess, no emotional attachments and associated fuss. The Ceeyes raised hundreds of such infants every year training them in abilities suited to their capabilities. No one knew their parents or children.
The Ceeyes picked up on her uneasiness and had proposed her wedding in a flash. Till a few seconds before she had read of Love, she would have nonchalantly gone about the business of temporary disengagement from her immediate society that a wedding at Etu required. Not so now. In the seven days that led to her wedding, she stirred and fretted and puckered and pouted, causing a visible ripple in the static around her. The word seemed to mock and leer at her, to pounce announced from dark crevices and nooks. Something human, rebellious and ingenuous was taking life in her. The Ceeyes, uncertain of how to infer her increased hormonal reading and palpitations, pumped in the prescribed medications for hormonal imbalance and myocardial infarction into her every night when she docked in to recharge. Flora had made up her mind over breakfast and the resolve had strengthened with each step she took toward her unpredictable future. The tiny but virulent virus of self-assertion, the sense of “I” that the founders of Etu had supposedly eradicated, had taken root in her being.
There was an ominous ring to the word. Some residual human emotion stirred from underneath the layers of IC imprints and millennia of genetic bleaching.
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As Flora and Iro met at the entrance of the Ceeyes Wedding hall, the Peppy Pink and Steel Gray disFlora worked at the Ceeyes Archives. She had access solved and they forgot the Enes for the first time in to literature the existence of which the Ceeyes itself their lives. They saw each other for what they were. was unaware of. By sheer coincidence while brows- They saw their children in each other’s eyes. ing through census related literature to help her design a new statistical system for her housing block, Preeti Madhusudhan is a freelance archishe stumbled upon an old book with essays on the tect/ interior designer living in Shanghai negative growth rate of a place called Finland on with her husband and six-year-old son. Earth a thousand years ago. Buried among scores of unknown words that required laborious references She is passionate about books and is an to a manual dictionary that had not been uploaded ardent admirer of P.G.Wodehouse. She on their IC, were repeated references to a word inherited her love for books and storytellcalled Love.
ing from her father, a Tamil writer. Preeti is trying to publish her maiden novella in English.
Preeti Madhusudhan
MONTH: AUGUST 2011 THEME: INDIA DECODED CONCEPT: When it’s August, we can’t think of anything other than India. So this was a season II of our favourite theme. FEATURED WRITERS OF AUGUST 2011: Amish Tripathi, Author of ‘The Immortals of Meluha’ and ‘The Secret of the Nagas’ Anjali Joseph, Author of ‘The Saraswati Park’ Preeti Shenoy, Author of ‘34 Bubblegums and Candies’ and ‘Life is What you Make it’ Kartik Iyengar, Author of ‘Horn OK Please’.
EDITORS’ NOTES
In the two years that Spark has existed, come August and we haven’t been able to think of any other theme other than India. In our second season of ‘India Decoded’ for the first time, we featured four bestselling Indian authors in the same issue. August 2011 also remains the most intricately designed issue of Spark and holds the record for the maximum downloads of the PDF version. What’s worth noting is that we did have a tough time promoting this issue amid all the media attention that Anna Hazare’s fast was garnering at that time!
Here are few words that provide plenty of inspiration. R.Seshan’s poem, motivating and awakening every Indian, is a rich tribute to the August 2011 theme, ‘India Decoded’.
Rise India!
Awake, Arise, O India
You, whom the Gods have touched,
You, whom the Gods have touched,
Stand Proud! Stand Tall! Stand Fast!
Stand Proud! Stand Tall! Stand Fast! Those who came with guns and swords, In a land awash with endless riches,
Became ‘us’ in words and action.
Saints and holy men did teach,
In India’s subtle embrace,
To reach within for the Infinite,
Realised ‘tolerance’ was a weapon,
Rejecting desire and greed, You, whom the Gods have touched, You, whom the Gods have touched,
Stand Proud! Stand Tall! Stand Fast!
Stand Proud! Stand Tall! Stand Fast! Time changes all things, Rivers change their course,
Embedded in our hearts and minds,
Even mountains crumble into dust,
The ‘tolerance’ of a Way of Life,
Lakes dry up by the score,
That taught ‘Peace to all mankind,” You, whom the Gods have touched, You, whom the Gods have touched,
Learn Fast! Learn well! Change fast!
Stand Proud! Stand Tall! Stand Fast! The world is blind and deaf to those, We never raised our hands in anger,
Who know not how to shout,
Never harmed or hurt,
It only opens up its eyes,
Peace and tranquility all we sought,
To voices raised aloud,
POETRY
Deep within us men and women
And the knowledge of who we were,
R.Seshan
You, whom the Gods have touched,
Stand Easy! Bend well! Bow fast!
Shout Loud! Shout Long! Shout far! As the fingers of a hand are clenched, The world today is a bitter place,
To form a mighty fist,
Even intellect has a price,
Unite in our quest for power and might,
You’ll get nothing in the market-place,
For India to top the list,
Just by being nice, You, whom the Gods have touched, You, whom the Gods have touched,
Stand Proud! Stand Tall! Stand Fast!
Sell Hard! Sell High! Sell fast!
The winds of change have blown away, Every trace of tranquility, Left you naked in the face, Of ugly adversity,
You, whom the Gods have touched, Stand Proud! Stand Tall! Stand fast!
Rigidity the harbinger of death, Change is the key to survival, To be strong we need to ‘dapt,
You, whom the Gods have touched,
POETRY
Inflexibility is a virtue of the weak,
Seshan Ranganathan aka Sesha, age 57, is the CEO of SSEA, an industries association in Navi Mumbai and editor of its magazine Shagun. When not tilting against the Government, he returns to his first love, Poetry.
R.Seshan
MONTH: SEPTEMBER 2011 THEME: ALL ABOUT MONEY CONCEPT: Money is a theme which has many interesting dimensions. The September issue looked at many of these. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF SEPTEMBER 2011: Deepa Venkatraghvan, Chartered Accountant and Author Priya Gopal, Educator.
EDITORS’ NOTES
We were not sure what sort of a response a theme such as ‘All about Money!’ would generate. Interestingly, we got some very nice dimensions to the topic. Contributors came up with work offering perspectives such as philosophy, poverty, middle -class living, money musings and even customer service! The financial angle also found its place through our featured columns.
Deepa Venkatraghvan pays a tribute to the September 2011 issue themed ‘All about Money!’ through an article that tells you how your money has fared over the two years that Spark has existed. Don’t miss the tips she has to offer based on the lessons learnt from the trends. It’s been two years since the world saw those three interesting words strung together ‘Word. World. Wisdom.’ As a writer for Spark, writing mostly on finance, I have enjoyed this journey. So when I was told about the second anniversary issue, I thought the best thing to do would be to chronicle our ‘money journey.’ How has our money fared in the last two years? Have we made money or lost it? Did we get wealthier? Let’s take a look. Thumbs up to the noble metal
But surprise surprise! It’s not gold prices alone that went up. Let me explain. Internationally, the price of gold went up from $ 1096 per ounce in December 2009 to $ 1591 per ounce in December 2011 – a growth of 45% in the last two years. However, the Indian rupee fell from Rs 46 per dollar to Rs 53 per dollar during that period. So Indian investors gained an additional 16% just from the depre-
ciation of the rupee against the dollar. Tip: While the recent price increase in gold may make it seem a great investment option for high returns, gold is at best a safe haven and is not known to give great returns consistently over long periods of time. The recent price rise has been a result of investors buying gold as a safe option to guard themselves against economic uncertainties in Europe. When the clouds lift, investors are likely to sell gold and invest back in paper. Keep not more than 10-15% of your investments in gold. Bank deposits and bond funds: Fighting a hidden enemy? Bank deposits have become more attractive over the past two years. If you had invested in two-year term deposit in December 2009, you would have made a return of 6.5-7% per annum. If you were to make the same deposit today, your returns would be upward of 9%. But the bad news is that there is a hidden enemy – Inflation. Inflation has also been at high levels during this time. In December 2010, inflation was at 8.43% and by November 2011 it had gone up to 9.1%. This would make the real returns from bank deposits run into the negative. In the case of debt mutual funds, as interest rates rise (Repo rate has gone up from 5% to 8.5% in this time frame and the reverse repo rate has been up from 3.5% to 7.5%) to counter soaring inflation, yields tend to fall. Over the last two years, the average return of the short term debt mutual fund category was 6.93% while liquid and income funds generated close to 7%.
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Gold has been the clear winner. From a price of Rs 16,800 per 10 gm in December 2009, the price of gold has rocketed to Rs 27,200 in December 2011 – a growth of 61% over these two years. Gold ETFs too reflected this trend. The average return from the gold ETF category was 26.8% per annum over the last two years.
The Journey of Money
Tip: While bank deposits appear to give attractive interest rates, they seldom beat inflation in the long term. So invest in bank deposits and debt instruments only for
Deepa Venkatraghvan
financial goals that are 3-4 years away. For long term speculators who are looking at short term gains. They investments, look at equities. bet on scrips on the basis of tips and information which may or may not happen. However, over a long If you do have a term deposit with a lower rate of period of time, the short term volatilities get evened return, close it and invest your money in a new deposit that gives a higher interest rate. Just watch out out and the returns reflect growth that is more realistic. The trick is to stay put for the long-term. for the tax implications and any premature withdrawal charges.
Pay more for home loans
Thumbs down, Equities, but don’t lose your sleep
The above reasoning holds true in the long term, of at least 5-7 years and over. In the short term, the prices of equity shares are driven by traders and
est book, ‘Step by step guide to start Investing’ was published in March 2011.
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As interest rates rose, bank deposits gave better reThe stock market has been a big loser. From 17360 in turns. But on the other hand, banks also charged more on their loans. Home loan interest rates that December 2009, the BSE Sensex today is at 15800 levels. The reason: global economic uncertainties are were around 8.5% in December 2009 have gone up making investors pull out of developing markets like to nearly 11% in December 2011. India and take refuge in gold and the dollar. Tip: The simple thing to do in case you are looking to pre-close your loans is to check if you are paying Among equity mutual funds, returns from large, more by way of interest as compared to what you small and mid-cap funds fell around 4% per annum over the last two years. The only fund categories that could have earned on that money. If you can earn more than 11% on your money through other investended positive in the last two years were Pharma funds and FMCG funds. Pharma funds gave close to ments, then it does not make sense to repay the loan 10% returns per annum while FMCG funds returned before the entire term. If you are making less than 11%, you might want to consider prepaying part of 23% per annum. the loan. Tip: Don’t be disappointed with the two year statistics. Equities beat inflation and give the best returns Deepa Venkatraghvan is a Chartered Acover a long period of time – at least 5-7 years. Equity stock prices can beat inflation because their underlycountant. She is also the author of the ing companies generate profits which are inflation CNBCTV18 Bestsellers ‘Everything you evadjusted. Profits are inflation adjusted because if iner wanted to know about inflation goes up and costs increase, companies will vesting’ (which was later updated and reincrease their prices too in order to generate profits. leased as, ‘Everything you wanted to Of course, it goes without saying that this is true for know about investing in difficult times’) good companies headed by able managements who have the competence to deploy sound strategies to and ‘What your financial agent will tell maintain margins, either by managing costs or sales. you and why you shouldn’t listen’. Her lat-
Deepa Venkatraghvan
MONTH: OCTOBER 2011 THEME: THE CULTURE OF INDIA—ATRIBUTE CONCEPT: This theme had been a dream of many months for us, for the richness and the variety of thought it can provide. We went for it in the October 2011 issue. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF OCTOBER 2011: Dr.Devdutt Pattanaik, Mythologist and Author Lakshmi Sharath, Travel blogger Sivasankari Chandrasekharan, Tamil Writer Radhika Prabhu, Dancer Vijayendra Mohanty, Author of ‘Ravanayan’.
EDITORS’ NOTES
It was literally a dream come true for us. We had always wanted to do an issue that dealt with Indian mythology, arts, music and dance, literature and architecture. One of the many questions that haunted us was—should we do a separate issue for each or should we combine them into one. We realised that a theme such as this gives a chance to explore many aspects – so as a first shot, we decided to put them all into one. And as things stand, don’t be surprised if we do separate issues on each of these too—we love these ideas way too much! As for the October 2011 edition, a must read for the art and literature inclined!
Varsha Sreenivasan likens the Indian culture to an ocean that opens its arms wide and accepts all the rivers that flow into it. The rivers are the many artists who chart their own courses and dissolve in this ocean. In an essay celebrating the October 2011 issue themed ‘The Culture of India - A Tribute’, she plots the journey of three great men, and shares their words of wisdom. Indian culture is like the vast ocean. Many rivers flow into it. The rivers may flood their banks, but the ocean does not. It has space for all.
That said, we settle in to embark on a different journey this time. From the Source it emerges, to the Source it returns; the flame that was lighted, eternally burns, said a great poet of
of every soul. Many believe art is the eternal soul of Indian Culture. The theme is Indian Culture - A Tribute; and some rivers which originated from this ocean, plotted a course so unique and inspiring, shunning the smooth and weathered course, embracing wild terrains and blazing their signature trails back to the mighty ocean. This article is to pay a tribute to India's great artists and warriors, Maqbool Fida Husain, Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi and Jagjit Singh. With their departure, they made 2011 a landmark year in the history of Indian culture. Let’s set out to plot their course and see what we find in the impressions they left on the sands of time. M.F Husain - Painter This river originated in a place called Pandharpur in Maharashtra. This pilgrim city also known as Pandhari, is named after the self-realised saint Pandarika, and Lord Vishnu gets his name Pandharinath from being the object of his worship. After losing his mother in his infancy, Husain relocated to Indore, passed through school, moved to Baroda, learned calligraphy and poetry, moved to Mumbai, survived by painting cinema hoardings and making toys, dabbled in landscape paintings and slowly but steadily went on to hold his first solo art exhibition in Switzerland. Europe, U.S., Middle East..the course of this river continued. The laurels won on the way, which are aplenty, are not the reason we remember him now. Achievements come due to the person in question, and no achievement shines as bright as the contribution he made to the ocean of Indian culture.
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Alongside this New Year, we celebrate the 2nd anniversary of Spark, which in itself has been like a miniature ocean; letting the rivers of stories and views flow in and represent a theme for every month on the calendar. And this month, this ocean turns two, standing out as a microcosm of all the themes that have marked its journey for the last 24 months. I begin this write-up on the October 2011 theme, Indian Culture - A Tribute, with a humble observation on the young Editors Anupama and Vani, who founded and pioneered this effort to showcase new-age writing, forward thinking and evolving youth culture while being firmly rooted in a culture of simplicity, integrity, empathy and creativity which India is all about.
The Ocean Rejoices
A study of his paintings shows a revolutionary art of story telling encoded in them. They are a clear departure from most styles the world has seen so far. Mostly, all art flows from what existed before. But flowing into a
Varsha Sreenivasan
whole new pattern and stamping it with an individual style is what Husain will be most remembered for. From here we switch to his own words from his interviews worldwide. On his style of art "There are artists like Pablo Picasso, who I have worked with, and there are artists like Rembrandt and the human element of his art, which has left a great impression on me. But as a worshipper of art, I have always absorbed the greatness of my predecessors and evolved my style. For in the ultimate count, only style stays."
M.A.K. Pataudi - Cricketer This river originated in Bhopal in the state of Madhya Pradesh. His mother was the daughter of the Nawab of Bhopal, while his father was the 8th Nawab of the princely state of Pataudi. From schooling in Aligarh and Dehradun to college at Oxford, he came a long way from home.
While at school, he developed his batting skills, going on to play for Oxford while at University. His career as an upcoming cricketer held great promise until a driving accident left him with just one good eye. Pataudi just went ahead with redesigning his approach to life, turning cricket into art – the art of facing world renowned bowlers with just one workOn his approach to art "Pardon my insolence, but I observe the world with ing eye; the art of making the bat connect with swinging deliveries when making the flame connect a child's eyes. with the end of his cigarette was tough. In just a I am always interested in everything I perceive. To me, each day the world unfolds like a magic box, year’s time, he got himself in form to not just play, but to captain the Indian Cricket team for a Test sefull of surprises, resplendent with colours. ries. For sheer grit and courage, his peers began to It is this sense of awe and amazement that keeps call him, ‘Tiger Pataudi’. me going even at this age. Even a small stone in a corner of the room may catch my fancy and I can spend hours watching it."
But let’s see what Tiger Pataudi had to say in his autobiography, about the process of coping with a disabling event that changes one’s life and hopes forever.
On India and legacy "A creative person is not bound by any geography. Visual arts is a universal language, you can be anywhere in the world but the work that you do has a strong link to 5,000 years of our great Indian culture." From the ‘Picasso of India’ we move on to the next river.
“It took me a long time to realize I had virtually lost the use of one eye, but even then, never for an instant did I consider I might not be able to play cricket again. On the whole I favoured the quicker stuff, slow spin was so difficult to follow in flight but gradually I learnt to judge pace by the amount of flight and the effort that the bowler was putting into it.”
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On mode of work "I don't have a single studio in the whole world and On life after the accident – maintain a bank balance of zero. I just go spread my canvass in hotel rooms, friends' houses. I am like a “As far as everyday life was concerned it did not take me long to get adjusted. Mind you, I still find it folk painter who does things on the spot.” difficult to drive at night because the headlights bother me. On regrets if any "No regrets. Controversy comes from a few people The worst thing is overtaking when another car is who have not understood the language of Modern approaching from the other side of the road; I find it Art. Right from Galileo to Kalidasa, all great artists difficult to judge precisely how far away the other were harassed. Art is always ahead of time. Tomor- car is.” row, they will understand it." On approach to Cricket —
Varsha Sreenivasan
On creating opportunities out of disappointment – “Because I was told I wouldn't be able to read for some time, I returned with my mother and sister to India in order to recuperate. Back home people didn't realise to what extent my eye had been injured and I, determined to play as much cricket as possible, did not of course encourage their curiosity.
On approach to music requiring devotion and unfailing practice – "Music is a vast subject. There is mathematics and grammar in music. Unless one knows all of it, he cannot become a good singer. One should learn music for 15 years before actually trying their hands at singing ghazals."
When asked to captain the President's team against On role of music for inspiration, not competition – the visiting M. C. C. team under Ted Dexter, at Hy"The moment one brings competition into music, derabad, I jumped at the chance...” the soul is lost." From India’s trailblazer cricketer we move to who is described as, ‘the first real ghazal singer from India’. Parting message to young Indians – “My good wishes are with all of you. I request that if you are smoking, quit smoking. Look after your elThis river was born in Sri Ganganagar in the state of ders and take care of your parents. It's extremely Rajasthan. Though he went through the full course important.” of academics from schooling to college at Jalandhar We bid these rivers a fond farewell and hope to and Haryana, he concentrated on learning music. keep their legacy alive as we start a brand new year Beginning his training with a blind teacher, he went without them. There will be brand new rivers and on to grasp and perfect the multiple aspects of the the eternal Ocean waiting for them. We are those art from various masters. rivers. Jagjit Singh – Singer
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Jagjit then began his musical journey singing devo- Happy New Year. tional songs in gurudwaras and earned a living by singing for Jalandhar’s radio station. Hoping to find a way to further his art through playback singing, Varsha Sreenivasan is an ex-media profesJagjit moved to Mumbai. After living by composing jingles, working on ad films and documentaries, sional currently involved in the field of Jagjit married another artist, Chitra, and bolstering filmmaking. She prefers to describe herself each other, they went on to snatch ghazal singing from the niche exclusive culture it was being boxed as a student of Nature like everyone else into and served it to larger audiences. The voices is. She believes, as such a student, she is were fresh, the style was different; somehow by still learning. She dabbles in juvenlie poetsharing it with everybody, Jagjit-Chitra had revived the dying art in a brand new avatar. Listeners adry and prefers rhyme to reason. mired the soul in his voice and his devotion to the art, and most of all, they loved his open approach to modern audiences. They lovingly called him the ‘Ghazal King.’ Let’s see what Jagjit Singh had to say in his interviews to the media on music.
Varsha Sreenivasan
MONTH: NOVEMBER 2011 THEME: EXPLORING THE FIVE Fs—Food, Fashion, Fiction, Friendship and Fun CONCEPT: An experiment of sorts. We wanted to have an issue that dealt with different themes in one issue. Hence the five Fs. FEATURED PERSONALITIES OF NOVEMBER 2011: Indira Chandrasekhar, Editor, Out of Print Jasleen Kaur Gupta, Fashion blogger Sailaja, Food blogger.
EDITORS’ NOTES
A crazy experiment to say the least. We wanted to see how it is to do an issue that brought five unrelated topics under one edition. It turned out to be quite interesting, of course not without the challenges. We had to balance things out so that one topic didn’t receive too much attention compared to another. We also featured interviews with three women who were making a mark in three fields – fiction, fashion and food – in the online space. As it turned out, the online link was a pleasant coincidence.
Gear up for a colourful fashion parade. Amrita Sarkar splashes sparkling and vibrant colours across your screen to celebrate the Fashion aspect of our November 2011 theme, ‘Exploring the Five Fs—Food, Fashion, Fiction, Friendship and Fun’.
Bridesmaids
ART
Amrita Sarkar is an English literature graduate from Kolkata. She has also completed her Post graduation Diploma from the Asian College of Journalism, Chennai. As for her interests, her love for cartoons, drawing, painting and stories began from childhood and continues till date. When her imagination could not be held any longer within the scarce recesses, she decided to cast them in moving shapes. This led to her completing a graduate diploma in animation and film making.
Amrita Sarkar
MONTH: DECEMBER 2011 THEME: TIME MACHINE CONCEPT: Hop on to the Time Machine and revisit the past or zoom to the future. The issue turned out to be an amazing journey. FEATURED WRITER OF DECEMBER 2011: Ashwin Sanghi, Author of ‘The Rozabal Line’ and ‘Chanakya’s Chant’.
EDITORS’ NOTES
The last issue of 2011. We have realised that when December approaches we are both relieved and excited. Relieved because we managed to pull off yet another year of publishing Spark successfully. Excited because we are all set to begin the next year. Time Machine is a theme that struck us almost in the last minute and while it was a rather small issue, the December 2011 edition was a revelation of sorts. Much to our delight we saw the contributions falling into an interesting scheme. It was about fantasy, introspection and human perception of Time. And with that we were all set to celebrate our second anniversary and more importantly, publish our 25th issue!
The idea of Nuovo Spark would not be new for the old reader. For the uninitiated, it is Jeevanjyoti’s avatar of the present-day Spark many centuries from now or more precisely, the revived version of Spark post what he calls the Big Crisis, after which the world transitions to a totally new way of living. Get ready to travel to the future. Jeevanjyoti Chakraborty writes a short story to represent the December 2011 issue themed ‘Time Machine’.
“Dad, you do remember about the speech you have been invited to give at our school, right?”
“So, what are you going to talk about?” “Hmm... uhh ... I was thinking ... well... given that I will be speaking as a representative of Nuovo SPARK, I could speak on the importance of cultivating the habit of writing for its own sake ...” “Oh come on, Dad... nobody wants to hear another lecture ... can’t you come out with something more imaginative ... you are the one always prodding me on to be creative and all that ... ” “Hmph.” Vidya’s Dad fell silent and went back
to reading from an Old Print Sheet. A little later, the machine flickered back to life. Vidya’s dad, palpably relieved, now sat down with an intelligent smile on his face. Vidya knew that look. “So, what is it?” “I could speak about the inception of Nuovo SPARK itself, you know ... from the last years of the Big Crisis.” “Yes... yes... that will be cool!” “Your love for those archaic words is growing into habitual usage, it seems... cool again! Anyway, I could dig up some old document ... and that would set up an authentic historical ...” “Yes ... that is definitely cooool…er ... let’s do it now... let’s dig up an old dossier ...” “Now?! What’s the hurry?” “Dad, you know, how much I love this vintage stuff ... please let’s do it now... I can’t wait to see what treasure you find out for the speech ... please!” “Okay ... I don’t see the harm... we are anyway already in the ReVive room! Let me see if I can find some of those earliest dossiers ... ” Vidya and her father spent the next hour rummaging through retrievals via the Old Platform Styler and crosslinking accession codes. Finally, when they saw it, they both knew what they were looking for. It was a letter addressed from the Editor of the old mother enterprise of Nuovo SPARK to the Secretary for Transition during the final days of the Big Crisis. In the description of that dossier it said: “This single letter is the primary reason Spark was not terminated and was allowed to make it across the Transition.”
FICTION
“What? Oh yeah... yeah... of course I remember ...” answered Vidya’s father, a little absentmindedly as he intently oversaw three of his junior colleagues poring over one of the clunky consoles in the giant ReVive Hall. He had always felt a special attachment to these machines bearing testimony to the reality of an ancient era.
Nuovo Spark
“Come to think of it, Vidya, what you are about to read was written six centuries ago!” As Vidya pressed the dimly flashing ACCESS tab, she felt herself transported back to that historic day and age...
Jeevanjyoti Chakraborty
“Dear Mr. Secretary, Date: 2.564/5/10 You are a man of science. I am a man of letters. So is my enterprise. And, I know that we do not have anything to contribute to the needs of science and technology. This might seem to be reason enough to terminate our existence before the coming Transition. I also understand that at this crucial juncture when the very existence of mankind is at stake, when the unknown future looms large, sacrifices have to be made to prune all the frills, and retain the bare essential minimum to ensure the best possible chance for the persistence of mankind. I do appreciate that.
Our enterprise is a product of this millennium. We were one of the pioneering few enterprises back in the early days of the first century to adopt, and not adapt to, the then radical paradigms both in writing and publishing. If there is any one enterprise that can lay claim to be the custodians of what have now become norms in the publishing industry, it is us.
Therefore, while we cannot make any product that will ensure the existence of humans, we can however try and ensure that the existence itself will indeed be humane. And so, if you feel that you have ensured enough stone spears, you will probably give our cave paintings a chance. Hoping to exist, and then to live, Editor, Spark� Jeevanjyoti Chakraborty is doing his PhD at IIT Kharagpur in Microfluidics and Nanofluidics, specifically theoretical Electrokinetics, after obtaining an Integrated Degree of B.Tech and M.Tech in Mechanical Engineering from the same place in 2009. Jeevan believes that in science and technology, it takes a lifetime of effort and discipline to be really creative within the rules, and genius to bend those or form new ones. As a welcome break from that discipline, he finds that in literature, creativity comes with ease and with the immediate gratification of momentary inspiration. Even in this paradise of carefree thoughts, he loves the wacky and the improbable. He adores delightful twists, clever word-plays and ideas which turn conventional wisdom on its head.
Jeevanjyoti Chakraborty
FICTION
What I wish to bring to your attention, however, is that in this hurried preparation of biblical proportions for the upcoming transition when the greatest care is being taken to give man the best shot at existence, in a possible New Era, perhaps existence is being mistakenly equated with human life. It is not his capability of mere existence that makes man what he is or has been, even with all his follies, through these thousands of years. Rather it is his singular capacity for civilisation, his innate, irrepressible desire to live beyond the humdrum motions of existence, his love for beauty, his hunger for the abstract and his curiosity for the unknown that truly defines him. Take those away, and he will be no better than another animal, his existence perhaps moderated by the gifts of technology, but shorn of his higher passions, he is still an animal. For every bunch of stone spears found by archaeologists, there exists a cave painting.
Also, more than anybody else, through the sheer strength of our active persistence over these last five-and-a-half centuries, we have the accumulated wealth of a substantial segment of the nonprofessional artistic output of the peoples of a number of nations. This veritable cornucopia of the expression of beauty and freedom is a heritage of human civilisation itself as it rose, stumbled and tottered through all the days of this millennium. In the excruciatingly trying days to come, human beings deserve not to be denied this heritage, and the lessons it holds of life and human follies – perhaps even those that led, in part, to this dystopian Big Crisis.
The Final Word “There are very few 'magazines' - 'real' or 'virtual', print or electronic - that live up to their name. Spark is one that does, it's lively, interesting, varied, and spirited - and it's serious. For me, there's always something that 'sparks' my interest and I'm sure will continue to do so well into the future. Two years is a great age, and more is even better!” – Urvashi Butalia, Director, Zubaan Books
interesting range of features and articles. I wish all the very best to Anupama and her team for the new year. May her tribe prosper!” – Amish Tripathi, Author of ‘The Immortals of Meluha’ and ‘The Secret of the Nagas’
“Congratulations, Spark, on your second anniversary. It must be exciting to look back on the dreams and the hard work that went into conceptualising and “My best wishes to you all on this happy occasion of realising your stylish magazine. From the interview celebrating the second anniversary of the magazine.” questions you posed to me about Out of Print, I – Sivasankari Chandrasekharan, Eminent Tamil sense that your success lies in the combination of Writer and Author of the ‘Knit India Through Litera- thoughtfulness and interest that go into your work. ture’ project Bravo! Look forward to more.” - Indira Chandrasekhar, Editor, Out of Print “It feels fantastic to have come across Spark – the online literary magazine. It is young, vibrant, smart and convenient with entertaining information. My favourites have been the ‘Fiction’ and the ‘Book review’ sections! I love the touch of creativity that comes across in whatever you guys come up with. Kudos to the entire team at Spark for spreading the positive vibes. . . Keep it going. All the very best!” – RJ Pavitra, Senior Producer and Radio Presenter, Radio One FM, Bangalore
“Spark is a well conceptualised magazine, with an
“I am absolutely delighted that Spark completes its second year in January 2012. On your cotton anniversary, I can only wish for you that you shall continue to sparkle and that cotton shall soon turn into silver and gold. It was the irrepressible Robin Williams who once commented “You're only given a little ‘spark’ of madness. You mustn't lose it.” This is my only advice to Spark, to its editor Anupama, and to the entire team of this terrific journal. Sparkle away!” – Ashwin Sanghi, Author of ‘The Rozabal Line’ and ‘Chanakya’s Chant’
Some of the featured personalities of 2011 share their thoughts on Spark and convey their good wishes on the second anniversary.
The Final Word " Spark does not focus on just one form of creative expression- there's writing, photography, art and so much more, all just a click away. I think it is awesome, the work you are doing, Anupama and team, bringing the works of both upcoming artists/writers as well as established names. All the best for your third year on the Web!" – Oormila Vijaykrishnan Prahlad, Cartoonist “I prefer reading Spark like a (digital) magazine, love the concept! It's easy to navigate, easy on the eye too. Spark sparkles but gently, I actually find it relaxing and enjoy the versatility, the photographs, the articles and featured people the most." – Indian Homemaker, popular blogger.
"Spark is an elegantly put together culture magazine with many fine features and interviews. Apart from the content, I like the neat, reader-friendly display and the obvious care that has gone into designing it just like a mainstream print publication. I was also impressed by the thoughtfulness and relevance of the questions they asked when they did an interview with me. Look forward to seeing more good work from them in the coming year!" – Jai Arjun Singh, Freelance writer and Journalist, Author of ‘Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro’ and Editor of the Anthology, ‘The Popcorn Essayists: What movies do to writers’
“Spark is a welcome new media voice and a delightful read. A great place to turn for insightful takes on art, “It takes great initiative and the right spark to spread culture, politics and quite a lot more. I'm confident a good idea - I think we have the right SPARK now... we'll be hearing more from them in the coming Cheers to the great Initiative!” - Karthik Kumar, Film years! Congratulations on the anniversary and best and theatre actor, Director, Evam and Sideways of luck!” – Mallika Dutt, President&CEO, BreakTraining through
“It has been a pleasure to have been interviewed by Anupama Krishnakumar, the editor of Spark, for the April 2011 issue. Spark is a magazine that covers topical issues and areas of interest. It is a young magazine with passion and zest, ready to make large strides in the publishing world, which I am sure it will. My very best wishes.” – Abha Iyengar, Writer and Poet
“Congratulations on completing two wonderful years of 'sparking' the interest of many readers through your articles. You have been so natural and true to your heart in your journey of trying to bring a positive change to the world. May you sparkle for ever like the stars in the heavens.” – Usha Shantaram, Artist
Some of the featured personalities of 2011 share their thoughts on Spark and convey their good wishes on the second anniversary.
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