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METRO
FEATURE
Where
Words Were King
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| Professor
and Conference speaker Harish Trivedi with writer Githa Hariharan |
Imagine,
if you will, a weekend during which Padma Shri awardee B.V. Karanth looks
you in the eye and bellows "Shakuntala, I love you!"; wordsmith/painter
Bhupen Khakhar proffers "mother******" while narrating Foreign
Soap, his short story soaked in scent and sex; and Malayalam writer/state
demi-god M.T. Vasudevan Nair mingles with the proletariat, eating Jain
food and soaking in Delhi's afternoon sun. Then, for effect, ponder the
sight of Khakhar investigating his cavities; a knot of journalists gossiping
brazenly during Hindi litterateur Bhisham Sahni's keynote speech; and
a sea-green salwar kameez-clad Krishna Sobti holding court over coffee
and crumbly biscuits.
Most would
describe the occasion as (regional) literary nirvana. Others-who took
time to read the invite-would observe that Katha, the non-profit organisation
whose support of bhasha literature is publishing legend, celebrated its
10th year with "Worlds into Words, Words into Worlds", a six-day
international interdisciplinary conference on the short story.
Held at
a lush farmhouse on the outskirts of Delhi, the inaugural weekend of December
16 included the presentation of the 10th Katha awards for creative writing
and translation, oral narration, Art Fusion with vocalist Vidya Rao, and
the enactment of Vijayadan Detha's play Kenchuli.
Katha's
Executive Director Geeta Dharmarajan, whose fervour ("we will do
what we can to battle the evils of globalisation") might distress
those who don't know better, was unequivocal: "The bhashas are going
to survive," she said, to delighted applause. Pity old whats - hisname
"Indian regional literature is too provincial" Rushdie wasn't
around to debate that.
-Sonia
Faleiro
Heritage In The Limelight
Humayun's
Tomb in Delhi, which was falling apart thanks to years of neglect, has
been rescued by corporate sponsorship, incidentally the first such heritagesalvaging
venture in India. And just in time... Komal Anand, director-general of
the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) admits that they "just don't
have the funds to look after all these monuments". So the Oberoi
Group has spent Rs 10 lakh for lights to illuminate the tomb for five
hours every evening, while the Aga Khan Trust for Culture (AKTC) has pledged
a phenomenal $500,000 (Rs 2.5 crore) to restore the gardens. They even
plan to replant trees that were traditionally grown in Mughal gardens.
"We plan to change the look in 30 months," says Ratish Nanda,
a conservation architect at AKTC. However, visitors who are looking forward
to a stroll in the gardens at night, better think again. It's not open
to the public. "You can see it from the Nizamuddin Bridge or Ring
Road," says Anand defensively. But the wayward logic behind lighting
a tomb in an electricity-starved city, and that too when it is off-limits
to the public, has motivated the ASI to change the rules. But don't hold
your breath-that could take another four years.
-Leher
Kala
Eats
The Rest
Okay,
it was called "Channel V live" but the night didn't belong to
either the channel or the performers-it belonged to that unmistakeable
jitterbug, the bhangra-loving Delhiite. On a cold winter evening at the
Nehru Stadium in Delhi, the crowd of 10,000 in the state of frozen comatose
failed to be moved by anything except their favourite Punjabi beats. Euphoria
barely got people moving; Silk Route lasted two songs; Pentagram managed
one more; and Mehnaz did better with an adaptation of Damadam mast kalandar.
"What's up, Delhi," the veejays cried in repeated desperation.
The response
took time. Then someone raised his paw and screamed, "Oye, Thums
Up, yaar", and suddenly veejay Ranvir had shed his yankee yap to
pure Punjabi. The crowd was on its feet-and Sukhbir was on. Obviously,
it was him they had come to see. Soon enough the dust started to rise
and shirts began to fly. It was rocking in there, and the beat was bhangra.
-Samrat
Choudhury
Playing
Hard
Shoestring
budgets, borrowed furniture for props, rehearsing on the pavement and
surviving on enthusiasm and the salty sea air (not necessarily in that
order)-Thespo 2000, a theatre festival strictly for those under 25 in
Mumbai's Sophia Bhabha Hall got together a dedicated bunch of theatre
buffs. Named after the Greek poet Thespis and organised by the two-year-old
Q Theatre Productions and The Theatre Group, the four-day festival saw
performances, poetry readings and jam sessions. And yet it wasn't just
another inter-college festival. Says organiser Quasar Thakore: "Of
the 61 entries, we auditioned 15 plays and four were chosen to be shown."
Of the four, two were original productions, with My Funny Valentine written
and directed by Arvind Sivakumaran bagging the Sultan Padamsee Award for
best play. Now it's back to the pavement.
-Himanshi
Dhawan
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Forget
endology, writes INDIA TODAY Senior Editor S. Prasannarajan. Celebrate
2001, celebrate the future in 
