Kala Ghoda Festival and Dance

Voltaire said “Let us read and let us dance. These two amusements will never do any harm to the world” These words came back to me as I witnessed a dance performance put up by the Nrityanjali group at the Cross Maidan during the Kala Ghoda festival in Mumbai.  

The Kala Ghoda Festival is held every year and this is the first time I could attend, mainly because I happened to be in Mumbai at that time.

The original Kala Ghoda (Black Horse) was a black stone statue of King Edward VII mounted on a horse that was built by Jewish businessman and philanthropist Albert David Sassoon. This statue was moved to Rani Baug (originally Victoria Garden) at Byculla Mumbai in 1965.

The David Sasoon Library is bang opposite Jehangir Art Gallery and more on it in Part II of the Kala Ghoda Festival blog.  

Coming back to the dance performed by Nrityanjali, it was one hour of pure entertainment for all.  

There was never a dull moment and I think it was so because of the meticulous planning and execution of the flow of the event. The two anchors gave a running commentary to connect the concept themed "Jindagi ke funde, Bollywood style"

I happened to be at Cross Maidan during the day time too and saw the troupe practicing. I captured some parts of the practice. 

Later while editing the video, I spliced in the practice part with the final performance. You can see the vast difference it makes with the colourful costumes,  lighting and with the proper sound control of the music. If the artists had attempted lip synchronization with the songs, it would have been totally perfect.

I have put together the first part of the video. You may observe a bit of shake at times, but then that is the best I could do with a hand held camera and trying to zoom in to capture the action which was happening about 50 meters away. 

One word about the performers, it is very evident that they really enjoyed what they did and that was enough reason for the audience to keep on clapping.

Behind the stage you can see the magnificent stone building (build in 1899) which is the headquarters of the Western Railway. 

More on the other parts of the Kala Ghoda festival in part-II of the blog. 
PS: The second part of the video  has been uploaded on YouTube.

PS:PS: The third and final part of the video too has been uploaded.

While editing the third part I realised how truly blessed we are in having the vast diversity in our country. 

The Mumbai Local

Traveled by the Mumbai local train after a long time. I was on my way to CST (Victoria Terminus) to catch the Deccan Queen. Being a Sunday, I was spared of the usual office rush. I couldn’t help but compare travelling by the local, a few decades ago. The rakes looked better and the inside was more airy and brighter. 

 It was good to see the inclusion of an announcing system inside the bogie (with a display on an electronic board)

The Indian Railways had third class bogies too which were scrapped sometime in the  sixties.

While crossing over from the Western Railway to the Central Railway, I was happy to see the absence of the hawkers on the foot over bridge. 

It was good to see some familiar sights and landmarks, like the tower of the Railway Hospital at Byculla.

While alighting at CST, I noticed the big clock. Reminded me of the times when I used to wait to see the big hand move, which looked like an enormous task, considering the size of the clock. 

There was a mural at the station of how Victoria Terminus looked during the British era.

The "statue of progress" which is about 17 ft tall stands atop the dome. I recall reading in the papers (some where in the late sixties) that the head of the statue was broken when lightening struck the dome. It was replaced by a perfect replica (made by the students of the JJ school of Arts which is situated across the road)

The above picture was the last one I clicked before boarding the Deccan Queen to proceed to Pune. 
Talking of Pune, I remember the days when we used to travel down south, the only stretch of electrified line was between Mumbai and Pune. Further down it was the good old steam engine. 
While travelling in Deccan Queen, there was this guy from the pantry car who talked politely and served every one with a cheerful smile. His face looked familiar and I clicked his picture in haste. 

It was only later I realized that he looked very much like the fruit vendor who sits at the street corner close to my residence. 

I captured a few video clips at random and put them together to make it into a 4 min video.

My aunt Theyamma

This is the first time I drove down the “theera desham” road. The road connecting Cochin and Alepuzha via the beach.  A wonderful road with absolutely no traffic. I just took in the scenery and had a pit stop at the Mararikulam beach.  

I couldn’t stay for long as the clouds were getting darker and darker and was threatening to come down any time.  

I was on my way to attend a funeral which was scheduled the next day. The funeral of someone who was very close to me.   

Some people come and go in your life, leaving a lasting impression, and you carry on with the memories of that person. One such person is Kama.

Some lovingly called her Kama but to me she was Theyamma aunty.  She was very hard working but still found time to take care of your smallest needs. She never minced words nor spoke diplomatically but always said the right things at the right time. 

I remember her being firm in her dealings especially with the trespassers who used to trespass our property (as a short cut) to go to Dr Madhavankutty’s house. At that time we just had a pattal veli (fence) with no gate and it was easy for people to walk through. Now of course the same property has a huge gate at the same place.  

With an equally huge house 

Which was something like this earlier:

And before the greenery came it was something like this in black and white.

Somewhere in 1967 we did “shramadaan” and converted our “Thodu” into a “chennkal road” It was a fun project as the people staying in the area constituted the “manpower” Lillykutty aunty and Theyamma aunty were a part of it, including me, Soman, Venu and Indira (my local friends) Now of course it’s a tarred road: 

Incidentally the shop that you see on the right was the dispensary of Dr Madhavankutty, and adjacent to it was the “meeshakaran” tailor.

Every moment that I spend in that house consists of memories of her.

I remember the time when the calf in our house was sold off to the butcher for Rs 500/- (the practice was that if the calf is a bull, it was sold off)  My aunt got so attached to the calf within a month that there were tears in her eyes when the butcher took it away.

To save money, she used to go to the fields near Pallathuruthy to cut grass and bring it home as fodder for the cows. Now this bale of grass was huge (something like 6 ft in diameter) I used to always wonder how she could carry such a huge load on her head when her frame was less than 5 feet (she was the shortest in the house)  

I remember her telling me “athu madhi, ini melilottu keranda” (that is enough don’t climb anymore) This was when I was trying to climb this coconut tree.

She was always around with a helping hand (and some advice) when we were putting up the “Thoru” (hay stacked up in a particular way for the rainy season)

Or when we were tying up the new roof for the “extended store room”

Her memory was something that baffled everyone. Whenever we visited her at Thiruvella, she used to come up with some old stories or incident with the finest details, like how in 1965 my Dad came from Byculla to Bombay Central and broke the news about grandfather’s death. Before he said that he took the infant that she was holding. That infant was Titus.

She had perfect information of all the relatives and would tell me all details about my cousins, whether they are in Ireland or America or any part of the world.

Whenever we went to Kerala, all of us made it a point to visit her:

 

During her last rites, there was a priest who spoke a few words about her and I realised that he knew her well during her stay there. 

After the ceremony, I went and met this priest and had a chat with him. He said that she was known as the “Praav Ammachi” (mother of pigeons) as she used to feed them regularly. She had even named each one like chikko, moni, pippi etc. and they used to respond to her call and come close to her. She was friendly with all the dogs too. The priest said “how much love you give to others, whether its animals or humans, you get back in same measure”

He said, “usually when people get old and is on their last leg of life, they become aggressive and irritated, but she was not like that”

  

It is just an irony that her final resting place is overlooking this lush greenery right next to the river.

 

The next time I pass this bridge at Thiruvella, I have to just look up to see our Theyamma aunty (kama)