A thought for the day.

Sometimes I feel that life is a big placebo. Vishnu Mathur. 26 September 2013

Night Train

A poem today


Through the night

Cold station

Awaits

The morning train.


Vishnu Mathur.
September 21, 2013.

Pigeons On The Terrace.

                             

                                           

                                                               Photograph  Vishnu Mathur ©


Every morning when I go up to the terrace of my building to feed a bunch of pigeons it is a new day. Depending upon the time (it has to be between 7.15. to 7..45 A.M.otherwise they fly off to other place in search of food) they approach me differently. Normally they approach the place I am sitting at in a helicopter fashion. They approach me from the left and land a few yards away and then cautiously walk towards me to the center of the terrace where I start throwing the Bajra (Pearl Millet) grains. Once the first bunch starts eating more pigeons will appear from nowhere and join them. The number varies from thirty or  forty to some times hundred when the neighboring building pigeons also join the party in  the absence of their regular source of their first meal of the day. On other days when I am late a few pigeons will be still waiting at the distant corner of the terrace but then they are cautious and approach very carefully one by one.Sometimes they will wait for some reason to make sure if all is well till a more courageous ( or more hungry) pigeon  will land alone. When he or she (I can't still make out their genders,I am told that the ones with slender necks are females and the ones with thicker necks are males) starts eating the others join the party one by one.On some other days if I am very late there will be no pigeon in sight and I will have to wait till a few of them spot me sitting. They  will come nearby and wait till I start throwing the seeds.Once that group starts eating the whole bunch will appear from nowhere and finish their quota of  feed for the day. But there are days when I wait with  the seeds and no bird would appear and finally I have to spread the seeds around and leave. Of course they come and eat the feed sometime during the day because when I go up to the terrace for a walk in the evening or the next day all that I threw down  would have been eaten up. Another interesting  thing is that  sometimes when the bajra is over and I try to feed them any other grain they make a lot of fuss and sometimes just fly away in disgust. But again when I go there next time the  feed is all eaten up one way or the other.

The whole group of my building are all not grey as one would like to imagine them.Because of some homing pigeons in the vicinity and because of the freedom of cross breeding habits,  I have on my terrace pigeons of many shades apart from the predominantly grey. There are a few pure white ones whom the previous tenants of the adjoining building have left behind, then there are the first generation mix breed who are with  black and white spots and then the further away breed who have just a streak of white and grey, sometimes just a white feather showing on its underbelly. To my surprise there is one pure black pigeon in my group whom I first suspected to be a water bird. Maybe it is a cross breed from there I am not sure. So I recognize some of them  clearly because of their distinct colours  and have named them likewise. The white one is obviously called Shwet, two of them who have grey and white spots are called Spotty. Because I can't distinguish between the two they are just Spoty 1 and Spoty 2 .Lately I see only one of them; I suspect one of them is dead. Others whom I can recognize are called in different names like Fluffy, Toughie, Black, Dakota because of a certain shape which looks like a Dakota plane and so on. Many don't have names because I can't make out which is which, they are all different shade of grey, but not identical in their shades and shapes. Anyway I know that  it does not matter because I have a suspicion that  they don't know that they have names and that they don't even know that they are 'Pigeons' for that matter! And I am sure they have no name for me; not yet! They recognize me perhaps as just a figure who appears in the morning on the terrace at a specific time and feeds them.

Pigeons are pigeons. Not really. When I see them closely I see that each one of them has a distinct personality and different nature apart from different shapes, sizes and shades of their plumage. Of course as they are popularly known they are peaceful by nature. They never rush or fight with each other to grab their share of feed. Some of the birds because of their nature will stay on the periphery of the main group and timidly wait till a grain or two falls near them. That is why I throw the seeds slowly in different directions so that all the birds get their share of food. There are others who are not afraid to come close to me and eat the grains sometimes from under my feet. I sometimes feel like a guru who takes care of all the disciples, keeping in mind their nature and specific needs. There I am reminded of the gurus and teachers I have known who took special care of  the pupils who were quiet and remained in the shadows.These birds are also not greedy when a particular bird has had enough to eat  it just flies off even if there is more food there to eat. And as a group they just take off once they know that the day's quota is over without waiting even a minute.So unlike humans!.

I am a human all right. When I started feeding these birds a couple years ago I used a a small measuring cup full of grains, roughly calculating  how much it would cost me to feed the birds and that it would not upset the household budget.of the month. And then as I regularly started to feed them I realized that more and more birds are joining the group and I felt that I must put more bajra for them. So I chose a bigger measuring cup which I thought was  double the size of the previous one. As I started to pour the cup on the first day I stopped mid way. "Am I going overboard?" I thought. "Am I stretching my generosity too much,can I really afford this?" And then  in my mind I start calculating the money I would be spending in a month and so on.(Never mind the amount I may be spending on my evening beverages!) So I did not fill the measuring cup to the brim but just two third of its full capacity.That was my way of economizing the monthly budget. And  at that  time I realized  that I do not have a  big enough heart to  really be generous enough to fill that cup in one go. So I started filling the cup  just a  little more every day so as to keep my expenses in check  and at the same time I practice to be more generous as the days go by. It has taken me a little time but the good news is that my cup is full now and I think I am putting enough feed for the pigeons on my terrace and they seem to be happy. I also realize that there are other benefactors  around who are taking care of the other birds of the area. But it certainly makes me happy  as I climb up on the terrace each morning when I see my group of pigeons waiting for me to have their breakfast. And when they flutter around merrily I can instantly feel the presence of so many loving  innocent souls around me. It certainly makes me feel good in a quiet way. Never mind that they do not  know my name yet.

Post Script. Who said pigeons are like Dodos and who close their eyes when they see a cat.It was very difficult for me to get a nice picture of the pigeons .They became very conscious of the camera in my hand and would freeze or just fly away before finishing the feed. After many attempts I could manage a decent photograph. I will keep trying and get a better one.


Vishnu Mathur.

September 15  2013.

Far Away Land. Part 3.

Part 3.

As I progressed with my Cinema Workshop children became more and more receptive and perceptive. The girls more than the boys for whatever reason!  And gradually they came a long distance away from the staple diet of Bollywood masala fare including the ever present ‘Item Numbers’. Unaware of the others in most part of the country, popular films have become synonymous with our ‘Indian culture’ more so in foreign countries where the NRIs survive on the staple diet of popular Indian  films and songs in various Indian languages. That is how they keep in touch with India. Our India! But there in Jhamtse Gatsal within our own land these popular films are a dream world which exists somewhere else in the country and the children there dream to go to such places shown in the films and may be shake hands with  popular stars. Hence all the questions about film stars! Popular cinema in India is certainly the “opium of the masses”! But as I kept on with the Cinema Workshop I kept on receiving wonderful reception from the children and all other guests and staff members who kept their interest in the workshop. The best responses, to my surprise, were for some old black and white films including Boot Polish, Sujata , Kabuliwallah and some silent Charlie Chaplin films


The film which to my surprise made the maximum impact on the children there was 'Boot Polish'. A black and white film produced by Raj Kapoor which deals with two orphan children. Since the film dealt with orphans I was a little skeptical about the reactions of the children there as most students in Jhamtse Gatsal are orphans. I was afraid that the film may hurt their sensibilities or disturb them and as the film progressed I could hear more and more sobs and I could actually see children visibly disturbed. When the lights came on I could slowly see smiles coming back on the faces of the kids. I knew that the underlying message of the film had gone home, the message of dignity of labour and importance of education which the main character of the film ‘John Chacha’ played by actor David kept on stressing throughout the film, telling the orphan children not to beg but work and educate themselves. The last shot of the film shows the two children entering a school like walking into the proverbial sunset. Later on after my discussion about the film with Lobsang Phuntsok it transpired that he resisted the idea of calling the school an ‘orphanage’ because he wanted the children there to have a sense of dignity about themselves and not feel like orphans living on the ‘charity’ of others. Although he explained that he would have received more money from various sources if he had added the word ‘Orphanage’ to his school. In the next session of the workshop he explained this point to the children and repeated the message of the film about dignity of labour and importance of education which the children had received well. Inadvertently I had chosen a film which is not often spoken about, that had the maximum impact on the children apart from Charlie Chaplin films.

Every day in the morning when I looked out of the window of my room I would see a different formation of the clouds and light falling on the mountains which kept changing every minute and I kept recording them in my still camera. The beautiful mountains, the valley and the river flowing in between the  borders of India and Bhutan! Lama Lobsang one morning drove me and some other volunteers down to the river. It is actually a point where two rivers merge with each other, river Tawangchu and river Nyanjsumy, a natural border between Bhutan and India. Across the narrow river between two rocky mountains was Bhutan. Another country another land, another culture, where people could stand on the opposite side and wave out to us and beckon us to come to their side. An experience which gave me goose pimples when I imagined how borders have divided people, lands and cultures. Border from where you can see but cannot touch! Beautiful mountains with rock formations which reminded me of black and white Chinese paintings and now I was there looking at them right in front of my eyes. I was almost there in China and Tibet and Bhutan. When we started to climb back in our jeep I knew that my return journey had begun. This is as far as I could go on this trip. Maybe next time with a permit to enter Bhutan I would go further. To China and Tibet I would not know when I would go. Even the Lama who was driving us did not have the answer. All the Tibetans in India have a dream that one day they can go to their own land Tibet. One’s own land and one’s own people! But the people who live there on these borders have the consolation of physically being so close to their homeland Tibet and smell the air which drifted from those mountains across the border. I quietly looked at the mountains receding from my window and then it occurred to me that this was looking at the location of my future film about a Tibetan Lama and his relationship with a boy! I was suddenly transported to my world of celluloid and fictional stories.

Finally a visit to Tawang and the Tawang Buddhist monastery which is one of the biggest in the world and innumerable photographs of the beautiful frescoes in it. Tawang monastery has a long history and is a very important landmark as far as the history of Tibet is concerned. Being there was a great experience both physically and spiritually. After a hearty Chinese lunch in a local eatery and some souvenir shopping it was time for me to leave. 

                                                                                                                                                                                             


One month had passed. A lot had happened: the Cinema Workshop, my contact with people there and their culture and most of all, my  bond with the beautiful children there in Jhamtse Gatsal; a bond which now will never break. Jhamtse Gatsal Children’s Community School created by Lama Lobsang Phuntsok was an eye opener. It goes on to prove that with a clear vision and dedication and without any government support and political patronage it is possible to do things which can bring about a positive change in our country. Maybe in our country people have got into a slavish mentality of either being patronized or dependent on a dole from the government. We are always asking what others should do for us and not say what we can do for the country as President John F Kennedy once said.

                                

After a tearful farewell and party which went late into the night I woke up at 3 A.M. to leave. A handful of people were there to say good bye to me in the cold dark morning when I started my journey back to ‘my land’. Far far away! The return journey was more beautiful as I knew what to expect. I had missed a lot of things on my way up as it was already dark when I passed through that area and I was sleepy with fatigue. On my way back in bright day light I could see the beautiful Sela pass at 13700 ft, Bomdila, Bhalukpung Dirang and many historical landmarks made famous by the infamous Indo-China war of 1962. Most of all some astonishingly beautiful landscapes at giddy heights above the clouds which made one shudder and exclaim with ecstasy at the same time. I left behind many, many small villages and towns with beautiful houses and curious eyes looking at my passing vehicle. I saw on the way constant presence of the army which is there now to assure people that their fear that China will one day walk over their land is an ill-founded one. And most of all a proof that a certain civilization can survive and continue to move ahead with hope that one day they will be part of the mainstream life in India and that they will not be a land so far way that it would take days and nights even to reach there. And most of all I was leaving with a hope that next time I go there, there will be better roads and maybe a super fast prime train to reach me to the north east frontier of the country in comfort. Most of all an institution like Jhamtse Gatsal Children’s Community School remained in one’s mind as an example of hope that everything is not lost for us as a nation in spite of rampant corruption, inept government machinery and politicians who are only looking at their own interest first and then the political parties they belong to and only then anything that has to do with the people and the nation.

The fresh innocent shinning eyes of the children there gave me the hope that all is not lost in our country or anywhere else in the world where such conditions exist, and that there will always be a metaphoric rainbow at the horizon no matter what the odds may be against humanity at large.

                                                                Photographs and Text,

                                                                  Vishnu Mathur.©

                                                                    September 6  2013.                                                                

Far Away Land Part 2.

Part 2  
                             

Jhamtse Gatsal Children’s Community School. A place in the sky: two hours of travel from Tawang right on the border of Bhutan and just about 25 kilometers from the border of Tibet and China! The entire school children, staff and all the visiting volunteers were lined up to receive me and my host Vasudha Wanchoo , the head of the administration at the community who was returning from the U.S. after two months. Lama Lobsang Phuntsok was right in front of the line to receive me. Many silk scarves and flowers and beautiful hugs from the children of all shapes and sizes made my fatigue of my seven-day journey disappear in no time. I was there on top of the mountain surrounded by higher mountains and a lovely community whose warmth was instantly overwhelming. A cup of tea and a  guided tour by  Lama Lobsang Phuntsok around  the campus set the tone of my entire trip and I knew that the trip to the far away land was not going to be a waste.



When I woke up the next day in my room and opened the curtains of the window, I saw the mountains of my dreams, the mountains I have been struggling to paint in my sketch books all these years! I could not believe it as I stood there with a sense of dismay and wonder. Dreams come true, do they? They do some day; I knew it at that moment. Very soon children were all around me wishing me Good Morning  as I was temporarily put up in a teacher’s quarters and Lama Lobsang came apologizing asking me if the children woke me up too early. He did not know how wonderful it was to be embraced by so many loving children and repeatedly asked about all the film stars I may have met and seen in Mumbai and I knew that’s all they knew about film making: film stars!

As I slowly got acclimatized physically to  the location and while secretly hiding my fears about my fitness I got to know the wonderful institution of Jhamtse Gatsal Children’s Community School. ‘Jhamtse’ a Tibetan word means Love and Compassion. A dream come true for Lama Lobsang! Lama Lobsang belonged to that region and having lived a life of poverty and deprivation he had resolved that one day he would do something for the poor children of the region. And during his stay in the USA he gave shape to his dream which finally took concrete form just six years ago.  And what I saw was far beyond my imagination. I had not imagined that the place I was going to in a far remote corner of the country would be an up to date, well organized institution for the orphaned and underprivileged children of the region. Well constructed dormitories, well equipped class rooms and dedicated teachers in that breathtakingly beautiful unspoiled surroundings: I would have not believed it had I not been physically present there myself. Well appointed kitchen and a mess with wash basins with  bottles of liquid soaps and most of all clean toilets and bathrooms. A sight which one does not very often get to see in a public place in India!

                                          

The atmosphere there was very relaxed. While I hesitantly started to conduct my Cinema Workshop for the children of Class 7^th and 8^th I realised that the children there, 82 in all, were not as remote as they seemed, from the day to day realities of the world and very soon they came on to my wavelength leaving behind their persistent enquiries about the film stars which I had banned after a couple of days into the workshop. Very soon we were into serious orientation about the history of cinema and the methods of film-making. The alternate day screening of some classics I had carried with me opened their eyes in a certain sense, so to say, to the cinema which lay beyond Bollywood and Hollywood which was their routine fare. Hopefully I was on the way to change their mindset about cinema once and for all.

What a wonderful life: to be hugged by ever loving children every time one passes through the campus. Such bright faces full of smiles and eyes looking for love from every passing soul. All the children in the community come from the surrounding villages of the Monpa tribe barring a few Nepalese children whose parents had settled down in the region. Many children there were orphans, a few belong to single parents and some were just underprivileged. Lama Lobsang Phuntsok himself went around the surrounding villages to admit the children in the school by convincing the parents and guardians that education was of prime importance if progress has to happen in the region. The region, according to some, belonged to a larger Tibet, and the Chinese Govt. continues to call that entire region of Tawang a disputed territory. Some locals still feel a sense of insecurity on that issue and are afraid that one day the Chinese will just march in and take over the disputed territory. But most people now believe that it is not anymore a realistic scenario in the present context especially because of the large presence of the Indian army in the entire stretch.

One fine day during my workshop I ventured out with my host Vasudha to a Monpa village down in the valley. Going down the slope was easy because there was a newly built kachcha road.  Looking at the unspoiled beauty of the place , frantically taking photographs for eternity and to show them to my family when I get  back to what is considered ‘civilization’ to prove that I have been to places an average Indian cannot believe exist was an exhilarating experience.  We walked down from a beaten path to the nearest village down in the valley. The houses were made of stone and tin and bamboo roof. Smoke was emitting from the rooftops and I was told that wood fire is always burning in these houses to keep them warm and the smoke-filled houses often created eye ailments in the people there. We came across a blind old woman who was carrying a small child on her back who was pushing her to keep walking. That made an interesting picture.

                                       

 The primary occupation of the people living there is agriculture. They cultivate in small terrace fields and mostly grow a type of rice which does not require too much water. The people there look poor and backward but there were signs of progress. We saw a new school coming up nearby and we met a girl in the village who spoke good English and we were told that many children go to nearby schools and some had even studied in Jhamtse Gatsal School Community where I was staying.  I also saw community water taps in the villages; in fact everywhere in Arunachal Pradesh. A mix of old and the new and I wondered how some people live in such places which we cannot imagine not only in India but all over the world, sometimes blissful in their ignorance of the rest of the world! Climbing on the way back was a tough task and I started imagining the last words I would utter before I collapse like “Tell my family that I love them.” Well, I survived all that nonsense to sit here and write this report on my trip. It only reminded me that I was not young any more.

   
                                 



                                                              Photographs and Text

                                                                  Vishnu Mathur.©

                                                                   September 4, 2013.