Thursday, February 28, 2013

South Mumbai: state of mind

Duality of existence in Mumbai city

Meghna Maiti
Mumbai

What if a raging monster comes and censures you in your loneliest moment, “After this life, you will have to come back again in pure flesh and blood. There’s no escaping the cycle of re-birth!” You would probably grit your teeth in anger and feel cheated. All of a sudden you would treasure every moment and little joys of your present life for fear of being perpetually condemned to damnation. Slowly, you would feel the ‘light’ in your present life and the ‘darkness’ in afterlife. And in realizing the polarities of existence, your appreciation of present life will increase manifold. Then perhaps we can say with confidence that lives of some special human beings represent the strange phenomena of ‘dualism’ that is constantly passing onto one another, through light and dark, truth and lie, misery and joy, that eventually enlightens, glorifies and then annihilates just as easily.

Simply put, dualism or co-existence of two different realities is vital for evolution. This is as much evident in the greatest of cities as in most complex of beings. For example, Mumbai is one such city where ‘duality of existence’ is palpable. Let us take a detour through Kalaghoda and Fort region in the most throbbing locality of south Mumbai, a place where clear blue sky merges with fine, filmy cobweb of a land. Kalaghoda, the heritage art district of Mumbai, seems to allow ordinary human voices to traverse freely across the expansive space, without trying to manipulate it or drown it with other noises. In a sense, the area is full of freedom and no bondage. It is visible in the way the soft tune of a flute-seller, chirping of birds intensify the ‘silence’; the wide-eyed wonder of a bunch of hippie foreigners, sudden flutter of a wild-red butterfly from nowhere creates ‘magic’ in nature.

Jehangir art gallery, David Sasoon library, Prince of Wales museum, Max Mueller bhavan and Rhythm House- the age-old music store bears testimony to kitsch in Kalaghoda.  Also, Sabyasachi’s showroom, Fabindia, Hermes marks the place as an exclusive hub for design and creation where aesthetics is the main theme.

Just around the turn of Kalaghoda circle towards Fort area, one would see a series of innocuous cafes dotting the street where it is easy to spot one of those lonely souls, dressed in loose cotton, stirring his cup of coffee and staring at it in a dazed, fixed manner. While on the next table, a bespectacled woman maybe pouring over her book and right across, the air could be turning thicker with the smoke of cigarette and whispers of dark secrets of a couple in a forbidden relationship. As the day proceeds, a slight nip in the air and the orange radiance of the lamp-posts add to the mystic, trance-like charm of the place. For a moment when we shut our eyes the evening could feel like a dream bubble, light and soaring, never touching the ground.

In stark contrast to it, comes Dalal Street, located around Kalaghoda. The street seems to reek of blood on a cold, wet earth. Its main claimant Bombay Stock Exchange (BSE) makes its presence felt like a snarling monster in charge of fortune of many. It exudes a certain subhuman, flashy charm, all ready to take on the world with its fangs. Its nouveau rich employees can be traced along Dalal Street, consumed fully by stocks and shares, culturally bankrupt and oblivious to life. They walk with a robotic pace and like to stay enchanted in their own moneyed circle. And over the years, they slowly transform into wolves and hyenas in human form.

In Chinese philosophy, a pair of opposites is considered to be complimentary forces, interacting to form a whole greater than each separate part, to form a dynamic system. As mentioned on wikipedia, the concept of yin-yang describes how seemingly opposite or contrary forces are interconnected and interdependent in the natural world; and how they give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another. Natural dualities such as light and dark, low and high, cold and hot are thought of as physical manifestations of the yin-yang concept. This concept when applied in context of Mumbai perhaps explains its mind-blowing success in art and business, self and pelf, spirit and material among others. We understand how each of these realities can reach its full potential with the co-existence of a different realm of life.

Ambani’s 27-storey high Antilla, located on Altamount road in Mumbai is again a world apart from the city’s Dickensian tenements in its neighbourhood area, known as chawls. City experts say it is a ‘soaring monument’ which seems to draw a line between the rich and the poor. It is reportedly the most expensive home in the world, maintained by a permanent stuff of 600 (source: wikipedia).

If Mumbai suburbs, where majority of the citizens live is considered to be 'black', south Mumbai with its elite populace, sea-viewing million dollar homes and manicured gardens should be 'white'. The easy, comfortable lives of the town people are a world apart from the daily drudgery of the suburbanites. South Mumbai and the rest of the city seem to be two distinct realities surrounded by the sea. From a distance we realize how the interconnecting forces are always at play to balance the dichotomy of existence in this sea of swelling multitude.

The spirits of some of the world’s greatest cities live on this sense of dualism. In stark contrast to the billion-dollar suave apartments in Shanghai, the migrant laborers get to stay in cramped dormitories. So it is with Chicago, New York among others where Lamborghinis, Porsches on the road cannot hide its rising unemployment. From city to daily life, dualism slowly permeates into human beings from the heat, dust and grime of city air.

However, irrespective of nations or countries, the sense of two poles should usher in harmony and coherence and help us find our own meaning of ‘black’ and ‘white’. Black means strength: white means love. And grey is the in-between state of positivity. The union of two can only result in individual and collective happiness.


ENDS

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Meditation

Meditation

THERE are days when we feel exasperated with an inner turbulence that completely zaps our energy, enthusiasm and life-force. It is like strongly feeling the presence of a gang of raging monsters invading our mind-space. We suddenly realise the importance of `silence' in our daily lives. I do not mean to preach on the necessities of sacramental yoga, meditations in our daily lives. Yet we cannot dismiss the magic of `quietness' and solitude.


It's like listening to the same tapes again and again, yet not holding on to them or criticising and just letting them pass like a gurgling spring. In order to master our inner storms, we have to create spaces in our mind, be silent, pay attention to our own consciousness and breath, temporarily stop `thinking' and `looking' at things outside. We should just observe our own thoughts and not judge them.


We will slowly realise some thoughts are just conditioned by our minds, that there is no basis to it, no element of truth. Some thoughts are basically a blend of complex emotions. With such observations, the chaotic range of thoughts takes shapes and forms, become lighter and flows through the mind like whirring mild breeze. Eventually, such practice will help us get to our deeper selves and get intimate with our emotional core. We will also learn who we are and understand exactly what we must do, without evasion. It helps us become more enlightened by a thorough acceptance of pains and losses in our lives.


We learn the virtues of forgiveness, love and compassion, pity people who have backstabbed us and develop a self greater than our own. The stories of many evolved minds are rooted in such kind of meditation. It's quite amazing. We do not necessarily have to renounce the sensuous self in pursuit of a higher realm, but just to stay afloat in an ideal reality far removed from the `quotidian' world. It makes both the worlds, spiritual and sensual, richer, and leads to a greater sense of fulfilment and joy.

Meghna Maiti

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Grief


Grief

Grief is like a tempest blurring the boundaries between sky and sea. It is an intense experience when people go into a sort of 'shutdown' mode and the world around seems to be drowned in abysmal darkness. We all go through such phases of sorrow and emptiness where clarity seems to be the most unattainable thing. It could be due to a sense of loss, fear, rejection, illusion. The hours seem long and the days longer. The entire meaning of existence seems to be spinning on a single event or individual. 

To an outsider, a grief-stricken person would seem weak and bizarre, the changes in her behaviour unusual, her laziness annoying and strange. In a way it is the most unproductive phase of a person’s life when her mind is buzzing with whirling, snarling emotions that can only leave her incapable of doing anything useful. Even daily chores such as cleaning up the house, arranging the kitchen or folding clothes seem Herculean task. And one just wants to sit in a corner and brood over the weight of life. 

It is also a period of intense loneliness when even the best of artists fail to express themselves. One completely loses track of reality and thinks, thinks and thinks. And the thoughts are often self-created dark, devilish sparks of the mind.

So how do we come out of it? The first remedy for this, perhaps, would be to accept the cause of grief in one’s life. It is also important to come to terms with the fact that life embraces you only when you open up to it. It is not wise to get stuck into a particularly interesting situation, phase or a person. The greatest of human experiences lie in embracing change, discomfort and work. We should not define ourselves on the basis of any external agent. And in being so, we can open up endless possibilities for ourselves and connect with the deeper realities, mysteries and magic of the world. 


ENDS

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Kalaghoda art fair: Mumbai


MEGHNA MAITI
Mumbai

Crack open a bottle of champagne, you will see life, effervescent and cellophane-wrapped, like the moonlight against a tinted car window, as darkness fumes through the atmosphere, a hazy distant spectacle of colours and noise, bubbly, while a dark horse waits strangely alone amidst chaos, art, people, and fails to figure out his self in the superfluous culture. That perhaps is the best way to encapsulate the Kalaghoda art festival in south Mumbai,

One could sense this hopeless elitism everywhere in the fair, in the overpriced art stalls, the fancy food joints, children workshops meant only for wards attending top-notch schools and in the influx of south Mumbai crowd. If ‘culture’ is about revisiting our ideal selves constantly, Kalaghoda art fair, which is supposed to be the biggest cultural extravaganza in Mumbai city, has certainly not lived up to its expectations.
                                       
The fifteen-year old fair in the city’s most beautiful art hub has sort of transformed into a joyous annual event that pulls consumers and businessmen for a hectic few days of sales and schoomze. The fair has also turned around the business of contemporary art in the city.

In Kalaghoda fair it was easy to spot a fat-pocketed woman, with an uncanny instinct of picking out the very worst expression of the painter’s art and reject at first sight, everything that was meant to be authentic. And then she exclaimed with a self-satisfied air, “I have paid the right price for a masterpiece!” And then there were people whose designer saree clad and sedan-flashing crowd necessitated a visit to the exclusive fair. In a way, art in this ‘hell of a city’ seemed to be outshined by the dazzling worldly achievements.

Even then, industry experts argue super-rich exert a considerable influence on the middling artists and help them grow. “Art world is hungry for money,” said an art dealer from Kolkata.

The festival has drawn art performers from almost all states and international destinations. While the fair has drawn around five lakh visitors this year, it managed to bring in 2.5 lakh visitors alone on Sunday, according to data from Kalaghoda committee. Some quintessential concepts such as, kitsch pastiche of Bollywood stars, dreams in tinsel town, youth anger, women rape case, Kapala’s totems made of discarded e-waste, vespa birth art, ‘cycle chalao city bachao’ theme were some of the interesting whacky displays in the fair.

The evenings also had some immersive sessions on literature with eminent authors such as Jeet Thayil, Amit Chaudhry, Ulla Lenze, Adil Jussawalla, Arundhati Subramaniam, Rahul Pandita. Jeet Thayil’s words from his book Narcopolis rightly brings in the essence of the evening at Mumbai’s art fair, “Because now there's time enough not to hurry, to light the lamp and open the window to the moon and take a moment to dream of a great and broken city, because when the day starts its business I'll have to stop, these are night-time tales that vanish in the sunlight like vampire dust.”


ENDS

Arts blends with mystic notes in Mumbai



Art blends with mystic notes in Mumbai

Meghna Maiti 

The evening was one of passion and inspiration, charm of scented candles, spheres of moonlight and darkness, silhouette of a huge peepul tree, spells of divine melodious truth, not pebbles drowned in emptiness.

The dreamlike romance of the place was awakened by a Saadat Hussain Manto reading session by the bards of passion — ‘Urduwallahs’ in David Sasoon Library garden at Kala Ghoda festival in Mumbai. The magic was heightened by an old soul in feline form; his head swaying from side to side, his greyish black exterior shining like armour, his frayed whiskers and his greenish eyes, clear and steady seemed to pierce to the very roots of the audience’s hearts.

The crowd’s sensibility was palpable; the word that filled the air was “nostalgia”, a journey to the depths of depravity, insecurity and the many ironies during the partition of British India, snaking through the wide alleys of Manto’s humanity and radicalism. It was also a sort of journey to the heart of a de-centred individual with a progressive view of life, intolerant of hypocrisies of the then prevailing society.

“Society is anyways naked, we do not need to live by its rules,” he had said. No wonder, Manto was tried for obscenity six times, thrice before 1947 and thrice after 1947 in Pakistan, but never convicted. He wrote about queer intimacies in his stories such as Bu (smell) and Thanda gosht (cold flesh) much before it became acceptable norm even in the western world.

“That he could be a rascal and at the same time an honourable man is intriguing. He could find out the purity of heart in a woman in brothel,” said a member of ‘Urdu­wallahs’. After ab­out an hour of book reading, clippings of Manto’s movies and his family snaps, the panellists anno­unced a br­eak for five minutes where audience could pick up kn­ickknacks related with Ma­nto such as bookmarks, candles among others and his book of short stories.

There was also a corner for a session on Urdu calligraphy. And thus with constantly receding horizons, sensitivity and boldness, and lot of ‘tehzeeb’ (refinement) Ma­nto ended a mystical evening.

meghnamaiti@mydigitalfc.com

Banyan Tree


Banyan Tree


Feb 04 2013, 2118 hrs IST

The lives of earthy beings are tied to the trees, the river, the mountains. You can feel it in the sweet, salty breeze of the ocean, the blinding phosphorescence of the snowy mountain peaks, and the soaring abundance of the huge banyan tree. On a blazing afternoon when you rest under a colossal banyan tree, you would feel a strong pull of the earth. Its aerial roots would become part of your spirit. All of a sudden you would feel how it is possible to be a dot in the universe and yet feel something out there is bigger, greater.

The banyan tree will take the form of god, a witness to all our flaws and frailties. Under its huge shade, we feel a strange sense of security and comfort. The banyan tree remains grounded and provides shelter to thousands of spirits. It doesn't mind the narrow-mindedness and neglect of human clan and emanates a kind of generosity that enlightens us.

While looking at a banyan tree, I have vivid memories of swinging on a wooden plank tied to its aerial roots, of playing with clay toys under its shade, of plucking its wet leaves on a rainy day, of its fallen leaves blowing through our kitchen garden. I remember the meditating saint who took shelter under it for around a week. He had looked at me and read my future. It also takes me back to those quiet evenings in my office area during sundown, when bats hovered over it and intensified the silence.
                                           
Banyan tree is all forgiving in nature, to whom you could come, confess your darkest sins and deepest secrets, learn to invest heart into anything you do and remain completely unfettered. It is in a way symbolic of enlightenment and freedom from ages of oppression, darkness and waking up to life. It teaches us to stay detached from everything material, not succumb to despair and find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.

Meghna Maiti