IN THE LANE OF SPIRITUAL KHWAJA NAWAZ

As you walk through the quaint lanes of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya Dargah, an omnipresent calm envelops you. RAHUL DEVRANI takes you to one such spiritual journey

Even though the streets are buzzing with activity as hundreds of people walk briskly towards their destinations and vendors pester you to buy traditional clothes or jewellery, an accompanying sense of calm and innocence makes you wonder: What separates these streets from other parts of the city? They are crowded but they cannot be compared with old Delhi; it’s a market area and yet it cannot be called one.

THE LEGACY
Not many people would know, but the entire stretch of Mathura Road — from Humayun’s tomb right up to Faridabad — is like a graveyard with kings, philosophers, poets and men of eminence buried underneath. Be it the famous historian Ziauddin Barani or Mughal prince Mirza Babur and Mirza Jehangir, all were buried here.

However, out of all these people, 13th century Sufi saint of the Chishtiyyah order, Nizamuddin Auliya, “Allah’s favourite one”, has always had a special significance among the masses. So much so that even after centuries, people would want to be buried near his tomb.

Nizamuddin Auliya has been immortalised for his generosity and humanitarianism. His advice — “first greet, then eat, then talk” — is still followed heartily with people often saying “Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim” before opening their meals.

“This has never been a residential area; people used to live in areas around Mehrauli and old Delhi. It was only after Partition that people started to reside here. But interestingly, everyone wanted to be buried here,” says Yousuf Saeed, an independent filmmaker and researcher.

The shrine of Nizamuddin Auliya is across the road from Humayun’s tomb, and as we know from historical records, was earlier a village called Ghayaspur when young Mohammed Nizamuddin migrated to Delhi from Badayun (Uttar Pradesh) in the early 13th century along with his mother to become a qazi (Muslim priest). Later, he became a disciple of Baba Farid and was appointed his spiritual emissary for Delhi.

Nizamuddin Auliya settled near the Yamuna, about a km east of the present-day dargah, behind Humayun’s tomb. This is where he prayed, meditated and met hundreds of people. Even today, devotees from across the world come in numbers to get the spiritual feel.

“Nizamuddin Auliya was the most well-known of Sufi saints. Sufism as an ideology or a course of conduct has enchanted many. It says that God is best worshipped through humanity. This is what Nizamuddin Auliya did and in the process became the most celebrated of saints,” says Saeed, adding, “One thing that makes Sufi saints special is the fact that they are and have always been with us. The ritual of burying the deceased, in fact, brings this place alive as you feel all the more connected to the past.”

Towards the west of Nizamuddin Auliya’s tomb is the Jamaat-Khana (prayer hall), supposedly constructed by Feroz Shah Tughlaq a few years after Nizamuddin Auliya’s death. Indeed, the very thought that one is breathing the same air in the ancient locale, makes for an ecstatic experience.

LEGENDARY COMPANIONSHIP
There may be several celebrated friendships in history but none can match the fabled relationship Nizamuddin Auliya had with Amir Khusrau. According to historians, Khusrau was the most favourite disciple of the Sufi saint.

Constructed in 1605, Khusrau’s marbled tomb is just steps away from Nizamuddin Auliya’s and is considered to be highly sacred. Just opposite the opening of Khusrau’s tomb is the Hujra-e-Qadeem (the ancient room), believed to have been built in the 13th-14th century. On the wall at the entrance to the room has an engraved poem in praise of Nizamuddin Auliya by Urdu poet Allama Iqbal.

“Iqbal wished if he could be Nizamuddin Auliya’s servant and he requested that his poem be engraved in his praise,” says Saeed.

Born in 1253 to a Turk-Indian family, Khusrau was a renowned poet of his time who served as many as seven rulers of the Delhi Sultanate. Even today, his poetry and prose, which are considered the best in Persian, serve as a casket containing invaluable historical information.

Being a court poet, Khusrau enjoyed all sorts of materialistic privileges but he felt at home only in Nizamuddin Auliya’s khaneqah (monastery). As the legend goes, Nizamuddin Auliya could get annoyed and angry with anyone but Khusrau.

Saeed mentions that there is a fable that when he was eight-year-old, Khusrau’s mother pushed him to visit Nizamuddin Auliya’s khaneqah. As he reached there, Khusrau waited at the entrance and composed the following lines impromptu: You are a king at the gate of whose palace/ even a pigeon becomes a hawk./ A poor traveller has come to your gate,/ should he enter, or should he return?

It is said that Nizamuddin Auliya at once asked one of his servants to go out at the gate and narrate the following lines to the boy: Oh you the man of reality, come inside/ so you become for a while my confidant/ but if the one who enters is foolish/ then he should return the way he came.

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN
To many, the custom of celebrating someone’s death might sound eccentric, but for a Sufi it is only a transition phase — the penultimate stage for unison with God. So, every year about 16 days after Eid-ul-fitr, people take part in another festive occasion, the urs or death anniversary of Amir Khusrau, called the ‘Satrahvin Sharif’ (holy seventeenth). Hundreds of thousands of people come to offer their nazrana (flowers, sweets, chadars) at the twin tombs of Nizamuddin Auliya and Khusrau.

“Urs has been taken from the Arabic word uroos which literally means ‘wedding’. So, in Sufism, someone’s death is considered to be a wedding with the divine,” says Saeed.

It is believed that Khusrau learnt of Nizamuddin Auliya’s death while he was away in Bengal, but he immediately rushed back to Delhi. When he saw Nizamuddin Auliya’s grave, he immediately uttered the following lines The fair maiden rests/ On a Bed of roses,/ Her face covered/ With a lock of hair;/ Let us oh Khusrau, return home now,/ The dark dusk settles in four corners of the world.

Six months later, Khusrau died.

Today, the entire dargah adopts an ambience that is a mélange of a massive celebration and unmistakable sacredness. Qawwalis are sung in the evening and for centuries they begin by a recitation of the above quoted lines.

People consider Khusrau no less than Nizamuddin Auliya and pray to them for their well-being and request the two to become a mediator between them and God.

In fact, a little ahead of Nizamuddin Auliya’s tomb, a dark passage, with adjacent sieved walls, leads to Nizamuddin Baoli — the only step well in Delhi that is still fed by underwater springs. It is considered to be highly sacred. According to popular belief, water in the step well is a mixture of different types of water and has healing powers.

Till sometime ago, there were houses made on the roof of ancient structures around the well. Although the well, which was built in the form of circular stairs converging at the bottom, has lost much of the originality as a result of renovations and man-made pollution, it still charms people and is sacred not only to the locals but also devotees all around.

Even as you read this piece, there sits a man near the dargah, who is dumb and is yet playing harmonium. He’s been sitting there for years, hoping that his prayers would be heard and he would be able to speak someday.

BOLLYWOOD BOXOFFICE DHAMAKA!

By M H Ahssan

It's raining blockbusters at the box office, with three movies crossing the Rs 100 crore mark this year. To keep the mood upbeat, there are several high-profile films waiting to hit the theatre. Is it going to be Bollywood's best year in a decade?

The year 2010 was awful for Bollywood. Big ticket films were flopping and producers were hard-pressed to search out for other avenues (like TV, music, satellite and overseas) to bring down the quantum of losses. It wasn’t clear whether the industry would find the will and gumption to reorganise and re-strategise in order to survive the big slump in fortunes. The first quarter of 2011 did not see much difference, but once Salman Khan’s Ready hit the theatre it became another story altogether.

The film had a gargantuan marketing budget. Salman, otherwise a reticent actor, became the star campaigner. Song and dance numbers of the film were splashed across channels, creating a buzz and hype previously seen only for Amitabh Bachchan’s movies in his heyday or Rajnikanth’s films even today.

The resurgence
The downpour of blockbusters we are witnessing today began with Ready which, despite being substandard and like all Salman enterprises totally kitschy in content, could beat 3 Idiots to become the second-highest grosser in the opening weekend after Dabangg. It appropriated Rs 41 crore in the first three days of its release. It also recorded the biggest non-holiday weekend take, surpassing Raajneeti. But such films don’t have longevity and, as expected, Ready took a downward turn once the initial hype and hoopla got over. Yet, such was the marketing of the film that it went on to cross the Rs 100 crore mark despite witnessing a great slump after the first week.

Then came Ajay Devgn’s turn to roar at the box office. Singham, in its very first weekend, raked in approximately Rs 31 crore on an all-India basis — the highest ever first weekend collection for an Ajay Devgn-starrer. In fact, Devgn was trying to resurrect his action-hero persona after a spate of successful comedies and he too hit the bull’s eye, crossing the Rs 100 crore mark within no time.

Singham was ably supported by Zoya Akhtar’s Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, which despite a fabulous star cast, was a surprise blockbuster. The film was expected to do well but not as well as it eventually did.

It was, however, Salman again who took the Bollywood’s profit chart to an unassailable height. His second film of the year, Bodyguard, which was released on August 31, went on to become the third highest all-time grosser after 3 Idiots and Dabangg.

In between one witnessed megahits like Murder 2, riding on cheap publicity for some sizzling ‘hot’ scenes between Emraan Hashmi and Jacqueline Fernandez, and Delhi Belly. Sunny Deol’s Yamla Pagla Deewana and Sanjay Dutt’s Double Dhamaal, too, did well at the box office.

The mechanism
According to veteran trade analyst Vinod Mirani, “Eid appears to be the festival day — and Salman the perfect poster boy — for Bollywood. Last year it was Dabangg that broke all records at the box office. And, this year it was again Salman’s Bodyguard that set cash registers ringing.”

So, why is the box office showering such whopping returns all of a sudden? Trade analyst Taran Adarsh gives credit to the “triumph of craft”. He says, “Innovative marketing strategies, catchy promotions and outdoor advertising have drawn the audiences to the theatre.” Aamir Khan, based on his experience with movies like Peepli Live, Dhobi Ghat and Delhi Belly, says that “creative and cerebral themes” — and not necessarily the “formulaic films peppered with song and dance” — are most likely to work at the box office.

Mirani disagrees. “The recent spate of successes at the box office is because filmmakers have understood that the age-old formula of songs, dance and action must be tweaked to suit the new generation of cine-goers. So, we have the same basic formula in a newer package of peppy songs and superficially-stylised action. The villain, too, has to have enough menace to make the hero look good,” he says.

There’s, however, a method in this madness. Today’s blockbusters are more akin to what a trade analyst calls “cloudbursts” — exploiting the potential of a film in the very first week by providing it the widest possible release. Bodyguard, for example, was released across 2,600 screens in the country. Digital technology has helped cut down on print costs, making such wide release affordable. No wonder, by the time people realised Bodyguard was an ordinary movie, it had already crossed the Rs 100 crore mark!

The box office trends of the past few years suggest that films releasing between January and May usually fare poorly. Mirani says, “This is because of cricket (IPL, etc) taking precedence over everything else. Traditionally, the monsoon brings people at the theatre. Most of the big-budget films are released during this season and towards the end of the year — Eid, Dussehra, Diwali, Christmas. This explains why year-ends mostly bring huge returns for films at the box office.”

The industry is now looking at RA.One, Don 2 and Agnipath to consolidate the 2011 success story.

The phenomenon
After his successes with Yash Chopra, Karan Johar and Farah Khan, Shah Rukh Khan was hailed as the star with the Midas touch at the box office. But today the picture is different. Shah Rukh hasn’t had any release this year. Hence for him to retain his pre-eminent status, his films — RA.One and Don 2 — will have to do phenomenally well.

Salman, on the other hand, is sitting pretty with a plethora of blockbusters to his credit. Wanted, Dabangg, Ready and now Bodyguard have taken his standing in the film industry to a new high. In fact, if Bollywood is in such a good shape today, the credit largely goes to him, along with Ajay Devgn.

“Salman is an all-rounder — he is a comedian, action hero and romantic lover boy in one single power-packed package. After all, mainstream Hindi films don’t need much acting; it’s all about promoting an image suitable to that of the star. That augurs well for Salman at the box office provided the films he does give him ample scope to brandish those elements,” says Mirani.

Salman hasn’t shown any thespian talent. He is a non-actor, who even cannot shake a leg to save his face. Yet, whenever he comes on screen, his presence is magnetic. Why is it so?

Salman represents a certain kind of macho masculinity that Indian males aspire to achieve. But what goes most in his favour is the fact that he combines rural appeal with urban aesthetics, something that his predecessors like Govinda or Mithun Chakraborty lacked. It’s this ability to evade the urban-rural divide that has allowed him to connect with both the masses and the classes, and retained his charm for 23 long years. In fact, Salman of today can be compared with Rajesh Khanna at his peak; people are ready to tear their shirts at the very sight of him. It seems, as one of the commentators has observed, of the two other Khans, Aamir has the greater acting skill but not the aura; Shah Rukh has the style, but not the reach.

What also goes in Salman’s favour is the fact that people find him genuine. Whatever he does on screen basically shows off his innate character to good effect. From his romantic films (Maine Pyar Kiya, Hum Aapke Hain Kaun) to comedy (Partner, No Entry, Judwaa) to the demented (Tere Naam), Salman never embodies the character; he always plays himself with a panache that endears the masses.

Salman is a success story that cuts across all classes, defying logic, traditional wisdom and even aesthetics. But one should not bother to analyse him. As it’s raining blockbusters in Bollywood, one just needs to remember him — and give him the credit which has been due for the past 23 years.

Human Bonds Make Ads Clinche Good Marketing

Relationships are fodder for advertisements. A slew of ads based on human bonds are fast catching viewers’ imagination. While marketing the product, they are also promoting family values, says SALONI BHATIA

Sample the recent advertisement where a couple tries to steal some moments of romance as the husband’s mother moves around the house, or the one where family members are cribbing about having to eat lauki. Take the case of another one where the husband confesses his love to his wife by giving her a chocolate. These are some ads which have underlined some sweet moments which typify our lives. The recent Cadbury Dairy Milk ad campaign has made an effort to underline the value of family in a person’s life.

Advertising professionals say that Cadbury ads have always been able to concoct some consumerism. Be it the recent ones where they are promoting the chocolate as a replacement for desserts or the “Pehli tareek hai” campaign, the brand has always known the pulse of the Indian people. Not only Cadbury’s, but other brands like Tanishq, Google Chrome and Airtel are harping on family and relationships to promote their brand.

What is it that’s attracting the attention of ad makers towards familial ties? “In a country like India, the concept of a family always works. What works in other nations might not work for the Indian viewers. For instance, the Australian Tourism Board recently made an advertisement showing the beauty of the nation and how it had been built. In the end it questioned tourists: ‘Where the hell are you going? This is the place to be.’ Compare this with the Incredible India ads which show how a tourist from Tokyo is helped by some Indians when she misses her bus or the ones where Aamir Khan is telling people to respect tourists and adhere to the traditional policy of ‘Athithi Devo Bhava’. Thus, in India, everything has to be toned down. In my view, depicting families gives the brand a wider reach,” says Chinmoy Bhowmick, art director with a leading advertising agency.

Adman Prahlad Kakkar is of the view that families have always been the focal point of advertising campaigns down the years. “Advertising is family-centric. In fact, 60 per cent of all ads are based on families. Family values are top of the mind when an ad is conceptualised. When a person spends money, he always buys something for his wife and children. In India, a father has the responsibility of keeping his family in mind. Thus, family has always reigned supreme,” he opines.

At a time when family values have hit a low ebb, these ads drive home the importance of togetherness. The recent Oreo campaign elucidates this. The “sandwich biscuit” announced its arrival with the ‘Twist, Lick, Dunk’ communication where a child asks his father to open the packet of biscuits for him. In the end, he snatches the biscuit from his father and licks the cream.

The agency behind the campaign, Interface Communication, did extensive research which pointed to the fact that mothers love the scenario where their children bond with fathers. The second edition of this campaign has introduced the concept of ‘Togetherness Time’ which was discovered from India’s first ‘Togetherness survey’.
It talked about how Indians looked at families spending time together.

The survey was an initiative by AC Nielsen and was conducted across six cities (Mumbai, New Delhi, Bengaluru, Chennai, Hyderabad and Kolkata). The survey revealed how modern-day parents rue the fact that they are not able to spend sufficient time with their children, given their hectic work schedules, and want to spend more time with their children.

“Through this, we encouraged parents to devote more time to their children. Advertising agencies bank on the aspect of guilt of parents. Since life is moving at such a fast pace, everybody is facing a time crunch,” says Namrata Patnaik, a copywriter with Interface Communications.

But doesn’t this amount to commercialisation of emotions. No, say advertising professionals. “We work according to a brief given by the client. Whenever we write a creative brief, we highlight the emotional or a functional benefit.

“And if the creative output is taking a leap on the emotional benefit, there’s nothing wrong in it. We, as individuals, are emotional and if the advertising strategy is harping on this basic characteristic, there is no harm,” says an account director with a leading advertising agency. Kakkar agrees: “Advertising is all about emotions and depicting perfection. You are not selling your wife or child to someone. In my view, it is not commercialisation.”

But what does the future holds for such ads? “Fashion revolves around in circles. Similarly, advertising has its own phase. There was a time when TV commercials had a jingle. Then, there was a time when children always featured in ad campaigns. Companies always want to play safe and focusing on families and relationships provides them with that option,” signs off Bhowmick.

Road Rash, Final Take - Hyderabad Road Racing Accident

It was an Id gift. A spanking new Suzuki GSX R1000 from cricketer Mohammed Azharuddin to his 19-year-old son Ayazuddin. The youngster couldn’t resist revving it up. On 11/9, Sunday morning, he slipped out of the house with the unregistered bike along with cousin Ajmal. He sent his older brother Asaduddin an SMS at 7.30 am, saying he was racing on Hyderabad’s swank but notorious Outer Ring Road on which bikes are not allowed. A worried Asaduddin replied right away, asking him to get back immediately but it was too late. About a couple of hours later, Ajmal was dead and Ayaz hung on to life on a ventilator in Apollo Hospital. Ayaz, a league cricketer, was scheduled to play a club match on Monday. He skipped cricket practice to go racing on the ORR.

He’s not alone. There have been 32 accidents on the ORR stretch this year, 11 of them involving superbikes. Manish Kumar Sinha, DCP Madhapur, says in all possibility Ayaz had taken his bike out for a test ride, and that the accident took place near a toll-gate where the road’s contour changes. The Hyderabad Metropolitan Development Authority seems to have forgotten the security aspect on the ORR altogether. There are 15 entry points on the busy Shamshabad-Gachibowli stretch of the highway leading to the airport, with not one speed check.

In fast-growing Hyderabad, superbikes are an epitome of cool, the ultimate must-have for the young arriviste. Ayaz’s wasn’t the first bike accident involving a celebrity son. In June 2010, actor Kota Srinivasa Rao’s son Kota Prasad, riding a Honda CBR 1000 RR, was killed in an accident on the ORR. Other Telugu stars share a passion for fast bikes. Superstar Nagarjuna is a collector—his son Naga Chaitanya owns a Yamaha R1 and a Harley Nightrod Special. ntr Jr too owns a Nightrod Special and a Hayabusa. Designed to touch speeds of 300 km an hour and weighing around 200-250 kg, these machines are the latest playthings of Hyderabad’s rich boys, feeding an obsession with speed that often forces the unthinking enthusiast to cough up a toll in blood—but the repeated cautionary tales are almost always ignored.

So how does it work? How are these races arranged? How do they dodge the police? We tracked down a few who obviously didn’t want to be named. Ranjith (name changed), a superbike enthusiast and dealer, says illegal racing on the ORR is a common, weekly practice. “Every Sunday morning, bikers congregate for races. Word gets around through Orkut, Facebook and bbm through coded messages. Anyone who buys a sports bike is automatically added to the group.” When he was a regular two years ago, a biker’s average age was 23. “Now they start at 17-18. Earlier, we started with a 400 cc, graduated to a 600 cc and then a 1,000 cc. Now kids start with a 1,000 cc as they are in a hurry,” says Ranjith.

Moreover, friendly bets are placed on beating past ‘records’. In the present incident, Ayaz’s cousin Ajmal had invited a friend along. “Let’s break our record of 220 km tomorrow,” he is said to have gushed excitedly. The friend was unable to join in. People in the know say there are at least 150-200 superbikes in the city. While normally 1,000 cc bikes cost around Rs 10-15 lakh, those smuggled in from Maharashtra are worth Rs 5-8 lakh—the preferred choice of many illegal racers. Phani Kumar, a former racing enthusiast, says races are popular on weekends. Many perform stunts. “Many youths who race come out at 2.30 am and hit speeds of up to 250 km/hr. These youngsters come from rich families but some are mechanics from the old city. A group of 40 racers gathers at an agreed location after a recce. In fact, they know more about police movement than the police know about them,” says Kumar.

The police say it’s impossible to patrol the entire 160 km stretch of the ORR all night. The bikes shouldn’t be sold to teenagers in the first place, says Hyderabad additional commissioner, traffic, C.V. Anand. “Motorbike showroom owners are supposed to check the credentials of buyers, but seldom do,” he says. Besides, many of the seized bikes show they are made from smuggled assembled parts, or are unregistered. “These bikes are for racing, not for riding to college. Bike races need slope, smoothness of track, side walls, biker gear, and a lot of training. You can’t just climb on to a 1000 cc bike and zoom off. How many kids on a superbike know that brakes can’t be applied when going at 200 km/hour,” asks Anand. Drunk on speed, safety is the last thing on a biker’s mind. “Bikers don’t even wear helmets because their faces have to be on display. Otherwise how will people know this guy owns a superbike,” Ranjith says. Azhar’s son Ayaz was wearing an ARAI-certified air-conditioned helmet that costs Rs 16,000, which experts say was the only reason he did not meet with the same fate as his cousin.

The genuine biking fraternity here is deeply disturbed after high-profile accidents, says Venkat Rao, president of the Speedway Motor Sports Association. Rao organises quarter-mile drag races—in which two bikers race their machines over a short distance in a controlled area—in Hyderabad, and bikers come in from Mumbai and Bangalore. He has organised a couple of races on the Outer Ring Road with prior permission and says it is one of the best roads in the world. Then what explains the accidents on it? “Bikers don’t know how to control speed,” says Rao. “Ayaz, for instance, was simply too young for the vehicle. He just did not know what speed is. When a 1000 cc superbike is revved up properly, a weak person’s heart can stop. That is the kind of power it wields. When we don’t know how to use superbikes, they can take lives.” Rao says the most popular superbikes are Harley Davidson, Suzuki and Honda. Pillion riders are not allowed in drag races. Rao says a pillion rider without a helmet can cause whiplash, leading to a fatal lapse of balance. This might be a reason why Ayaz crashed.

Will this high-profile accident put an end to illegal bike races in Hyderabad? “It won’t cause a blip,” predicts Phani Kumar. After this incident, there won’t be racing for some weeks. As the shock wears off, the lust for speed will reclaim its worshippers, young men who exult in the inherent, glamorous, danger of it all, one that occasionally spills blood.

LANKA PULLS OFF JACKFRUIT FROM INDIA

By M H Ahssan

Jackfruit curry has always been hugely popular in Sri Lanka. But now it is more popular than it has ever been because of a ‘minimal processing' revolution that has swept the island.

“Earlier, most homes would make jackfruit curry only during weekends. Thanks to minimal processing, now we make it twice or thrice a week,” says Dr Subha Heenkenda, a senior officer in the department of agriculture in Sri Lanka.

Minimal processing makes jackfruit ready to cook. The result is that consumption has shot up to five tonnes of tender jackfruit and 10 tonnes of the unripe variety in a day.

Sri Lanka now has more than 200 minimal processing units offering ready-to-cook polos (tender jackfruit) and kos (mature jackfruit).

Polos curry, of course, is like a signature recipe of Sri Lanka. It is available in most of the hotels and restaurants. In tinned form, it is exported to many countries.

Many people here in India still don't know that jackfruit is a versatile vegetable too. As a vegetable, it has four stages – tender, slightly grown, mature unripe and ripe. Sri Lanka has a tradition of using it not only as a vegetable, but as staple, in place of rice. The Sinhala name for the jackfruit tree – Baat Gasa – means ‘tree of rice'.

Sri Lanka stands first in the world in consuming jackfruit as a vegetable. According to Dr Heenkenda, the country consumes about 25 to 30 per cent of its tender jackfruits as vegetable. This is a very positive step towards local food security. Probably no other country in the world matches this.

Minimal processing involves light preparatory operations like washing, trimming, peeling, slicing or chopping. The jackfruit becomes more consumer friendly, but remains close to its natural form.

The main problem with jackfruit is that it is big and difficult to consume in its entirety. It is also difficult to cut and separate the edible portion.

Ready-to-cook jackfruit always used to sell on the roadside in Sri Lanka. But eight years ago, the agriculture department saw an opportunity in making the ready to cook variety available on a large scale through organized minimal processing.

Recalls senior research officer, Senarath Ekanayake, “We saw fresh cut vegetables getting popular in US markets. Then we thought, why can't we make jackfruit also available in ready form.”

The food research unit started a series of training programmes. But initially this didn't make much impact. It used radio and articles in newspapers and magazines to popularize the idea. “We did on-the-spot demonstrations at exhibitions too,” recalls Ekanayake.

But as with any other new technologies, it required catching hold of a few interested people and ‘hand-holding' them for some time. It didn't take long for Sri Lankans to realize the employment and income generation potential of this simple process. Seeing the success of the pioneers, many others joined in.

Today, points out Dr Sarananda Hewage, head of the food research unit: “Kandy has 13 units doing minimal processing with jackfruit. There are 30 in Colombo.”

With Colombo and Kandy leading the way, minimal processing has spread to other towns and urban centres. It has made it possible to earn more from jackfruit.

On roadsides, a 250 gm pack of tender jackfruit packet will be priced around 30 to 40 Sri Lankan Rupees. In super markets and shops, the price is slightly higher.

Small household enterprises abound, which is good but also a problem if standards of hygiene are not maintained

The investment is very small. “They require a few buckets, two good stainless-steel knives and a small sealing machine,” points out Ekanayake. Most of them are units run by families.

Interestingly, half of these entrepreneurs are farmers themselves. Previously they weren't getting mentionworthy returns for their jackfruit. Now, with minimal processing, they are making in a day what they did during a season.

Lesson for India: “A machine can be used for cutting jackfruit to make the task easier,” says Dr Christin P. Robert, programme coordinator of CARD Krishi Vijnan Kendra, Pathnamthitta, Kerala. “The Sri Lankan model of minimal processing has tremendous scope for us in India. Take the case of a producer state like our Kerala. Though we have ample jackfruit production, we have considerable number of towns, cities and office-going women. People like jackfruit but don't always have the time to cut and cook it.”

From Kerala, a huge quantity of tender jackfruit is sent to the northern Indian states. In jack season, every day, trucks carry about 400 tonnes of tender jack go from Kerala to north India. In states like Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh, it is cut and sold in vegetable shops for Rs 30 a kilo.

Sri Lanka's success has great lessons for India. So far our efforts to provide jackfruit – both as a vegetable and a table fruit – in a consumer friendly form are next to nothing. Agriculture universities and research stations would do well to make minimal processing a priority.

Chasing a Spectacle !

By T K Rajyalakshmi

Anna Hazare's movement against corruption must surely emerge as the most televised and written-about event of the year, with the mass media giving it non-stop coverage. Newspapers on the whole were more nuanced, though most of them did succumb to the agenda that was being set by their fraternal counterpart, television. The print media devised novel ways of catching viewer attention, which had to be retained in the teeth of continuous and live reportage on television. Therefore it wrote innovative headlines, such as “All roads lead to Annapolis”, a reference to the sprawling Ramlila Grounds in central Delhi where the Gandhian sat on his indefinite fast. The devil was not in the detail. Viewer and reader attention had to be caught at any cost.

The Jan Lokpal movement in August managed to put the government on the back foot much more than the agitation in April had done. Had Anna Hazare not been arrested, there might not have been much to write about and the movement might also have found it difficult to sustain the tempo for a fortnight. The arrest gave the peg and the momentum to the agitation, along with the media coverage. The government had underestimated the impact of the televised event: with every successive day of procrastination, the headlines became more strident, the news anchors and reporters on the ground more hysterical, and the public reaction correspondingly high-strung.

For the youth, spurred by a sense of entitlement but faced with possible unemployment and a directionless future, the movement against corruption was the perfect antidote for their frustrations. It was amorphous, it had no political strings attached, and, above all, someone else was doing the fasting. After all, all that the movement expected of them was a “burning desire to do something for India”. There were no complicated questions, and corruption, or bhrashtachaar, as a stand-alone idea was easy to comprehend and react to. Therefore, barring the occasional voice of sobriety, the scope for a rational debate was just not there. By and large, the only village to be deeply involved in the movement was Anna Hazare's own Ralegan Siddhi. Much of rural India, reeling under the weight of double-digit food inflation, was out of the discourse.

The mass media, mainly television, went on as if it was because of their efforts alone that the agenda of corruption, mainly government corruption, had been taken up. Unsurprisingly, those who even mildly differed were harangued and berated for having failed to see the unfolding of televised history. It was no surprise that Hazare thanked the media repeatedly, including on the day he broke his fast. For the television channels, the organisers had provided enclosures to ensure uninterrupted coverage. It was, after all, a 24-hour show. One Member of Parliament aptly summed up the viewer fatigue caused by the non-stop coverage and made a plaintive request to the government to do something about the “dabba”, meaning television.

Barring a few writers in the print media, no one looked at the features of the Jan Lokpal Bill and the issue corruption except in a basic sense. Sections of the print media did a decent job of comparing what political parties had to say on the Jan Lokpal Bill, including on some of the not too positive features. But the rest chose to juxtapose the fasting and the issue of corruption as a contest between the Jan Lokpal Bill and the government's Bill.

There is no denying that there was a good deal of mobilisation, thanks to the televised coverage and to the social media of Facebook and Twitter. The Ramlila Grounds, Azad Maidan in Mumbai and Freedom Park in Bangalore became almost household words. Those who were curious, and many were, turned up to take a peek at what was happening. The basic appeal to people to participate in the movement was simple and uncomplicated. In July, as the build-up for the August programme began, the India Against Corruption movement described itself on the Internet as a non-violent and peaceful movement against corruption. “Any person who has burning desire to do something for India can participate in the movement. Nobody is a representative of Anna Hazare. More than 570,000 people in India are already supporting the movement. There are no branches of this movement as it is not a Sangathan/NGO or any institution. Its aim is to develop a well organised communication structure to enable free flow of ideas…. The IAC movement has more than 60,000 fans on FB and over 3,300 followers on Twitter profile,” it said

A number was also given, to which people were asked to give a missed call from their cellphones, following which an SMS would be sent to them with details of the agenda on a daily basis. According to the digital brand management firm Pinstorm, which tracks Indian online entities daily and ranks their influence on the basis of their impact on social networking sites such as Twitter and Facebook, the IAC movement featured among the top 10 online entities, which include MTV. By August, the strength of IAC's fan movement swelled to six-digit figures. According to another media-servicing agency, ZenithOptimedia Private Limited, and as quoted in the media, the genre share of news channels rose in the 12 days that Anna Hazare fasted. The time spent on watching news also doubled and viewership went up.

None can fault the organisers of the movement for their media management. The question is why the media allowed themselves to be managed so willingly, without posing any difficult questions. During Anna Hazare's fast, Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) spokespersons hardly ever clarified their party's stand on the Jan Lokpal Bill, but no anchor found it worth pursuing. The views of the Left were not given adequate space in the electronic media, though some of the points they raised were accepted by the Jan Lokpal team. Interestingly, a Team Anna member mentioned, somewhat appreciatively, that while the Left had clarified its stand, the BJP had not. The emotive appeal of a “74-year-old man” fasting while a Nero-like government looked on was the dominant theme of the coverage. Meanwhile, as the crowds swelled at the Ramlila Grounds, comparisons were made with Tahrir Square and the Jasmine Revolution.

The fast was over on August 28, but television channels did not take a break. On August 31, when Anna Hazare was discharged from the private hospital in Gurgaon where he was admitted, television crews followed him everywhere, some even boarded the Kingfisher flight to Pune and beamed pictures of a dozing Hazare. The viewers were told that “South Indian food was served and he only had kheer”. Breathless reporters spent the next few hours debating whether he would celebrate “Ganesh Chaturthi” at Ralegan Siddhi or stay the night in Pune. Almost all television channels covered Anna Hazare's movements live, all claiming that the coverage was “exclusive”.

“Will he rest or will he attend the programme in his village?” was the question a reporter posed rhetorically. Like him, the viewers were also clueless. Another gushed, “It is evident that every villager will come out to greet him but Anna won't like to participate in any of the programmes.” The anchor in another channel asked his reporter with affected concern, “But after a four-hour journey, he would like to rest, wouldn't he?” At present the debate on television channels is whether Hazare should focus his leadership skills on getting the Armed Forces Special Powers Act repealed in Manipur or get involved in the Kashmir problem.

There have been protests against corruption, price rise and the government's anti-poor policies before. And they continue to take place. People have fasted, too, for long durations. Many progressive laws have also been enacted, without the advantage of 24-hour coverage. What propelled the government into action in those instances was pressure from the people, and a moral pressure to respond. Any attempt by the government to restrain the media on the grounds of their “movement generating” potential will be facile.

Indian Prisons — Rhetoric and Reality

By M H Ahssan

The portrayal of prisons in our reel world is that of a four walled, impossible to exit station. It is often a depiction of two contrasting facets: one showing that the convict is a dreaded criminal who is just too reluctant to change, and the other demonstrating lots of innocent masses caught in a crime jam by an archaic criminal justice system. While on one hand prisons are shown as places with dehumanising conditions, at other times they are painted as huge fortified walls of concrete with abundant space for song and dance where there is no trace of disease and filth. But in contrast, the grave reality of prisons and their state is immensely numb and not dealt with in a broader term with reference to the purpose they were construed.

Old archaic laws

According to the Prison Statistics Report 2000, India has about 2,48,115 prisoners in total to the available capacity of 2,11,720; Uttar Pradesh topping it with 49,885 inmates. Prisons in India are still governed by the century old Prisons Act 1894 and the Prisoners Act 1900. The application of a century old law in the changed socio-political scenario is absolutely bizarre, and is out of tune with the entirely transformed picture of human society. During the past some decades several organisations, intellectuals and committees set up for jail reforms have expressed their views on the importance of reviewing the Act which is not comprehensive.

The new thinking on prisons has been duly summarised by the dictum that convicted persons go to prison as punishment and not for punishment (Charles Shobraj vs. Superintendent, Tihar jail, AIR 1978, SC 1514). The condition of a substantially large number of prisons continues to be bad, dehumanising and violative of the residuary rights of inmates. There has been a plethora of recommendations for the improvement of these conditions both from recommendatory bodies and from the apex judiciary but a large chunk of these recommendations has not seen the light of the day.

Overcrowding is the greatest practical hindrance to efforts of reforming the Indian prison system. Some prisons house as much as three times more inmates than their capacity. Prisons in general are housed in dilapidated age-old buildings with its management in the hands of an untrained, disgruntled, over-worked and insufficient staff. Constraints of inappropriate working conditions weigh over opportunities for correctional work.

Inhuman conditions

During my recent visit to a prison, I saw what I had never expected to see. Even though the building stood fortified, it did ask for much do-up. The pillars were old enough to have seen four generations of prisoners. The barracks looked unkempt and least maintained. One single cell housed three times the capacity making it too uncomfortable for the inmates to even move about, apart from the fact that they slept in shifts. Those small coops, called cells, contained people from all walks of crime — petty thieves, murderers, bride burners, scamsters, anti-socials and a whole sty of undertrials.

The most evident showcase was the lot who thought they were at the wrong address. When I asked one of the inmates what he was there for, he said "I don't know, I was having my lunch at home when they arrested me on the ground of murder." Who the victim was, he never knew. One of the prison staff said that cases like these were rare.

The next corner of the prison housed women prisoners. According to the Prison Statistics Report 2000, women inmates constitute 3.42 per cent of the total inmate population in the country. In India social customs make women ex-offenders more vulnerable to suspicion and rejection. The stigma of having been in prison has more adverse after-effects for women than for men. They are always looked down upon by everyone — their family members, the prison staff, as well as society. They are forced to adapt and survive in this unfriendly and indecent ambience.

Women are disowned by their families and there is always lack of a helping guardian. As a result many of them are confined as undertrials for want of a surety. Being uneducated and lacking legal awareness they are often given unduly long detentions.

Out of the total inmates just a few seemed to repent their wrongdoings and were seriously exploring legal ways to exit for good. They consulted private lawyers who charged hefty and unaffordable fees and did the least to solve anything. The lawyers commissioned under free legal aid never visited and never cared for the inmates.

The condition of prison staff is none the better. They have a long story about their own deplorable existence. Most of them have been stagnating in the same position for more than ten years without any opening for promotion or change. Due to terrible paucity of staff, those supposed to be on security duties are on ministerial tasks. Salaries and other service conditions are unjustifiably lower than those of their counterparts in other sister organisations. Even training which is so essential for jobs in correctional institutions is conspicuous by its absence in most cadres.

It is time to think of better networking, effective prison reforms and their true application, education and overall societal contribution to the improvement of prison conditions. We must seek solutions both in the prisons and outside in society. Public funds now being wasted on unhealthy institutions called prisons need to be better spent on sensible pay-offs.

Rot In The prisons

The level of barbarism in respect of a nation's treatment of its prisoners is perhaps more uniform than we Indians expect. Developed and developing countries alike treat their convicts with a kind of depravity, which speaks volumes for the nature of contemporary civilisation and their attitudes towards the human person.

Applying even the most retrogressive standards, Indian prisoners are the pits — a level of perversity matched only by our pious, moralistic and sanctimonious preachings abroad. In the land of Gandhi and non-violence, prisons remain depraved and brutish. Internally the prisoners rot.

Rape, buggery, torture, custody without legal sanction, bars and fetters, detention far in excess of the sentence, solitary confinement, lunacy, the brutalising of children, women and casuals, drug trafficking and prostitution rackets run by the superintendents are but the daily routine of prison life. Pulling out eyes as in the Bhagalpur blinding case or the pushing of batons up the anus of prisoners as in Batra's case is perhaps Sunday's schedule.

 

If the complete absence of human rights moorings in India has escaped notice, it is only because the State has through law and lathi shrouded the prison system with an iron curtain through which only those may pass who have no hope of returning. And while the press, the public and social activists are debarred, the Courts turn a blind eye. While crores of rupees are spent in esoteric research of dubious standards with manuscripts thrown into the dustbin after the degrees are awarded, not a thing is done about prison research. As a consequence, the criminalisation of the prison administration proceeds apace and is the main factor contributing to the hardening of the offender and to the inmates' physical and psychological breakdown.

Apart from the human rights issue, the Indian State has so little intelligence that it cannot comprehend that in purely bourgeois terms it is neither economically feasible nor practical to have such a large part of the population fettered and decapacitated.

Judicial reforms have been slow - too slow. In the 1980's it merged with the forenso-personal history of one man whom all associated with the struggle for civil liberties and human rights must stand up and applaud - Krishna Iyer, a former Justice of the Supreme Court who even after retirement championed the cause with renewed fervour. His decisions describe his struggle against the tide of foul precedent, colonial prison regulations and a defiant lower judiciary not only unwilling to accept his views but also uniformly subservient to the prison administration and the police.

In the Seventies and early Eighties he transformed Indian prison jurisprudence and a few other judges inspired by him contributed to this change. By the time of his retirement in the mid eighties, he had led India through a decade of forensic change. But he left a sad man noticing in powerless retirement the flouting of his decisions by the decision of the criminals in uniform. The passage of time settles all things and India returned to its normal state - the eccentric has passed on.

The ebb tide set in. Whereas in the cases of Hussainara Khatoon and Motiram, the Court had spoken against high bail amounts for poverty stricken accused and had recommended their enlargement on bail on personal bond and even without sureties, today millions of people are jailed pending trial because they are either too illiterate to apply for bail or too poor to furnish the bail amount. Notwithstanding Hoskot's case legal aid remains on paper with more money spent on committees, reports and seminars than on legal aid itself. Sheela Barse's case likewise indicates the flagging interest in public interest matters.

Now the right of the press to interview prisoners has been couched in a language as vague as to practically operate against the press. Despite Khan's case, prisoners are often denied access to newspapers and books. Despite Walcott's case the awarding of prison punishments is like the emperor's fiat. Despite Mallik's case children are brutalised on par with adults. The International Year of the Child saw seminars organised and films made but no children released.

All the recommendations laid down in Batra's case and Kaushik's case are ignored. Overcrowding has increased many times over. The Board of Visitors is a bloody farce. The Prison Manual and other regulations are kept top secret and even defending advocates find it impossible to lay their hands on one. Liberal visits by family members depend on bribe money.

The ombudsmanic task of policing the police that Krishna Iyer advocated is now an impossibility. The standard minimum rules for treatment of prisoners are not only not followed but the rules cannot be found, Section 235(2) 248(2) of the Criminal Procedure Code in respect of more humane sentences is overlooked despite Giasuddin's case and Santa Singh's case. Despite Varghese's case poverty stricken, indigent debtors are jailed. Notwithstanding the Prison reforms enhancement of wages case convicts perform slave labour on notional or illusory wages.

If, as in Nandini Satpathy's case, the methods, manners and morals of the police force were a measure of a government's real refinement, ours would be a tyranny. Censorship of correspondence contrary to the directions in Madhukar Jambhale's case, the solitary confinement contrary to the directions in Sunil Batra's case thrive. Likewise, bar fetters are commonly used. And the accused are tied together like cattle and paraded to Court through the streets in defiance of the decision in Shukla's case.

The little Hitler found lingering around Tihar Jail in Batra's case is now fully grown and well fed. Despite Sah's and Hongray's case compensation is rarely awarded. In the face of Veena Sethi's case, mentally disturbed persons are maltreated and rendered insane. The 'hope and trust' placed in the prison administration and the police by the Supreme Court have turned out to be a joke. Even after Barse's case women's rights are not implemented. Despite Nabachandra's case remand is done as a matter of rote. Nothing changes in India - ever.

As we age, Krishna Iyer's passions recede in the memory of bench and bar. A new conservatism has taken over. Once again judicial apathy and unconcern fuel prison sadness.
His decisions are largely, therefore, of academic interest, perhaps the only merit of the decisions being, as Justice Hughes once said, that they are, "an appeal to the brooding spirit of the law (and) to the intelligence of a future day."

They display overall certain common trends and characteristics. Firstly, that judicial standards in human rights are uniformly pathetic and secondly that judges in India are universally unwilling to punish prison officials and policemen even in the face of cast iron evidence of major offences committed by them.

Judicial reluctance, administrative callousness and the absence of any State recognition of white collar crime, takes India rapidly towards the precipice where the working class find themselves brutalised and isolated and the justice system is seen by all - as it essentially is - as a class weapon perpetually perpetrating injustice.

As this happens the story foretold by Krishna Iyer in Veena Sethi's case may well come true; "One day the cry and despair of large number of people would shake the very foundation of our society and imperil the entire democratic structure. When that happens we shall have only ourselves to blame.

Daily walk of thirty minutes can beat 24 diseases

The thirty minutes of daily brisk walk could cut your risk of becoming victim of more than two dozen diseases including dementia and cancer. The other major r benefit of brisk walking is that it decelerates the rate at which your bodies deteriorate with age.

It was found that being fit and active grades next to not smoking as the most influential alternative one can make to stay healthy. Its benefits are worldwide for males and females in all age groups. The thirty minutes of brisk walking is associated with decreased risk of heart disease and stroke.

There is mounting substantiations that this daily short time of exercise could also diminish the risk of dementia in older age. Other advantages could comprise a condensed risk of a catalog of other circumstances like obesity, osteoporosis, type 2 diabetes, depression and high blood pressure.

It has also revealed that a simple thirty minutes a day of exercise was connected with a diminution in the risk of cancer. If you can stride it up to an hour a day, then the gains go up as well, with the occurrence of cancer diminishing by even more.

Research has revealed a burly association between augmented corporeal activity and condensed colon cancer in both sexes. According to report published in the International Journal of Clinical Practice showed that males, who are more energetic at work, rather than just sitting at a desk, have lower rates of prostate cancer.

Other studies based on cancer have revealed that corporeal activity after identification can aid recovery and improve chances of survival. It emerges that your bodies have evolved to function optimally on a certain level of physical activity that numerous simply do not attain in the modern, sedentary lifestyles, explained physiotherapist Leslie Alford, a lecturer from the University of East Anglia.

It is evident from the study is that men and women of all ages should be encouraged to be more bodily active for the sake of their long-term health. He added that other factors can boost the effects of a daily walk like eating healthily, not smoking and not being overweight.