Sambandha Shibumi 2021 - 22
Note to Reader Dear Reader, Here it is again, the annual (or only) Shibumi tradition. What you're about to read in this magazine is a compilation of (delayed) submissions, each of which was obtained a er weeks of lying in bed and groaning over the number of articles yet to be collected. e submissions that were nally gathered were centered around the theme for this year, Sambandha (relationships). is was chosen a er a lot of deliberation and discussion. A er running through nature, colors, senses, and a few other theme ideas, we realized that an important part of how we looked at something was our relationship with it rather than the thing itself. Slowly we began to see what a vast topic 'relationships' could turn out to be. Although they need not de ne us, our relationships are like lenses through which any aspect of our lives can be looked at. is was what made it an interesting topic, since sometimes, the lens also turned out to be a mirror. rough this process the same question remained: how do we relate to the world, to each other and to ourselves To see if through the course of time, with the old, new and transient experiences, have our relationships grown di erently How have we been changed by our relationships in the last couple of years spent in relative isolation
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Are you Coming Sharad Outdoors and I, we were great friends and then there was this break, Everyone was stuck indoors, not allowed to stir or shake. It was so di cult, he kept calling everyday We were not allowed to meet, though I tried in every way. I knew this wasn't permanent, this break would never last So I kept ready for him by exercising and spot running very fast. Soon the wait (weight) got heavy, and things began to settle We were still the same sh but now in a di erent kettle. He still came calling every day, but now I was scared to go I had a new friend in lethargy, both in body and mind quite slow. Everything from outside was now coming home, but outdoors was still out door e house began to clutter up and entertainment is rather a bore. I am now ready to respond, each time when I hear the call To go out of doors and play with him, run, jump and to take the fall. - 14 -
Twinkle Twinkle Ashish ere was a lot of hustle and excitement. We all were gathering for a night walk, planned to a lake, at a considerable distance from school. It was a new moon winter night. e air was getting chill. We all started the walk, torch less, in our preferred bunches with our buddies. It could be because we wanted company of our best friend. It could also be just because of the fear of dark, which makes even familiar paths feel alien. As the walk proceeded towards the lake, the chatter of our groups slowly gave way to the sounds of cricket along the paths. e darkness of the surrounding started to be felt. e mini groups that had formed started to get further apart. e groups started to become quieter in their chatter. I became quieter. I stopped walking. I stood still. I looked up into the sky. It took my breath away In the vast darkness of the immense sky, shone sparkling stars. e stars stood out sharply in the crisp black sky. When I regained myself from this enchanting spell, I realized I was standing alone on the path. No one else near me. It was just the vast magni cent universe and I somewhere within it. I suddenly felt small standing under the twinkling sky How is it that I am here and able to feel all this vastness I felt a sense of gratitude towards life. Combined with the sense of joy, love and peace, I felt insigni cant in the vastness. A space of vacuum got created. It set o questions. What if I was not standing here at all to feel all this What would the existence of this vastness, the dark sky and the sounds of the cricket be What's this ability to feel joyous and one with all this existence and yet insigni cant amid it One question leads to another, and another to yet another. Is there an answer Life chugs along and the relationship with these questions continue. Yet deep in the countryside away from the cities, I chance upon a walk, torch less, under the black sky that still shines fresh with the sparkling stars on a new moon night - 15 -
With the Himalaya Aman In 2016, I ventured into Kashmir in the peak of winter, and was enamoured by the mist that hung low in the valley, over the lakes, over the mountains. In '17, on a journey to a remote village in the lower Uttarakhand Himalaya, a brilliantly white peak kept playing hide and seek on the way, shimmering above and beyond the gigantic earth-coloured mountains by whose sides the motorways ran. Old, brooding, the Himalaya in Kashmir felt as if they were sitting next to you. e valley is like a vast playing eld abutted by rivers and lakes, and surrounded by these snow-white massifs rising industriously a little each year from unfathomable depths. ey didn't invite you to climb, nor did they ask you to leave. ey were there, unmoving, growing over you, pausing you. In Uttarakhand, you have to travel. First, through the lower Himalaya, through its cities, towns and villages, climbing altitude, your hopes of catching a glimpse of the eternal snows increasing, and then dashing, when the road goes down again and up again and down again. Like a pilgrim, vanity raising its head in the hope of seeing the eternal every time a part of himself dissolves. And then eventually, a haze, something you'd dismiss as a blu , an improbability – the mountain, always appearing suddenly, big, stationary, the centre of the terrestrial world, around which everything is revolving, the lesser mountains with their forests of tall deodars, pines and rs, the animals, the roads, towns, villages, the people. At rst, it is hard not to be overwhelmed by the sheer magnanimity of the Himalaya. It is as if something moves permanently inside you, displacing your axis of thought, the knowledge and the beauty of that vastness embedding itself so deep down in your consciousness that you become the proverbial moth, aligning itself to it, reaching it and yet never reaching it. By 2018, I had made several trips to the mountains, in Kashmir, Himachal and Uttarakhand, seeing them in their di erent attires, in their varying shades of green, ochre, brown and white. But it was only in late 2019, when an occasion to live right next to them arrived and I graciously settled in for the winter. As I lived there, every morning I woke up to the range of snow-covered peaks called the Uttarakhand Himalaya starting from Chaukhamba in the West, to Nandaghunti, Trishul, Mrigthuni, Maiktoli, Nanda Devi, Nanda Kot, Chhanguch, Lapsa Dhura, Dangthal and Panchachuli in the East toward Nepal. Sometimes a cloud or two would wander obscuring their base and sometimes their peaks. Sometimes they would be hazy and distant and at other times so clear as to seem a stone's throw away. But night and day, the knowledge that they were there, like a wall, like a being on their own, independent of me and my known world, remained rm, a fact, an undeniable, unchanging reality. When we think of relationship, we o en think in terms of at least two entities, for it is inconceivable for a lone entity to be related. However, we frequently come across references to aloneness, dispassion or vairagya in the teachings of seers and in ancient texts. It is such aloneness or dispassion with which the Himalaya regards you. Complete, majestic and aloof. One could argue that even an ant exists in that aloneness, it is a complete being in itself. But human vanity, violence and power can destroy it, but not the Himalaya (at least not up until now). And for the puny human as I am, it regarded me with that dispassion and I felt admiration and jealousy at the same time. Being the object of my jealousy, I coveted it, longed to be close to it, live with it, in it, get lost in it, become it and perhaps even better than it. As I walked, in snow or light, in rain or sleet, I felt the tall trees in the forests, the pines and rs, regard me similarly, - 16 -
dispassionately, and so did the birds. None afraid of me, none accosting me, but also none appeasing me. Once as I was standing in a deodar forest, high up and alone, looking through the branches, at the patches of sunlight, when I suddenly became aware of someone watching me. As I slowly turned my head toward the spot where I perceived something to be present, I saw a pair of yellow-throated martens intently gazing at me. ey took turns to stand on their hind legs to look at me and then perhaps thinking that that way was no good, vanished into the forest. A couple of years earlier on a walk in a forest near Shimla, I had discovered that I was under the steely gaze of a barking deer standing several hundred feet above me on the mountain slope. Even before that a stranger had suddenly appeared to show me the way in a mist lled snow-covered forest in Kashmir and at another time a boy, barely twelve, had rowed me across the vast expanse of the Narmada in a boat made out of a single tree log telling me nonchalantly, 'Don't move while I row'. e root meaning of the word 'relate' means to 'carry back'. Everything I have expressed here is what I have carried back with me of the Himalaya. Images of the rst rays falling on the peaks, the changing colours of the evenings, crimson, orange, blue, turquoise, violet and grey, the full moon positioned above the Panchachuli, the snowfalls, the simplicity, faith and directness of the people, the forests, birds and animals are what I bear with me. Each infecting me with its innocence and simplicity, a feeling alien and intimate at the same time. On the last day of my stay, a little a er midnight, I walked up to the terrace to look at the stars for one last time. As I stood there shivering in -5 degrees Centigrade, a lone fox danced its way across the street-lamp lit patch of the road in front of the house. Entering it from the darkness and vanishing into it. One for all Anime Nikith (14) e moment I started watching anime, which was only a few days ago, I fell in love with it. It's like a movie but cut into small pieces and animated with e ects. When or if you're in a bad mood then, if you like anime, watching it will help. e cli -hangers are the best. ey give you an adrenaline rush. Anime and I are kind of the same. We both can be sad, happy, scared and joyful. Sometimes it gets so intense, it's like that person (I forgot his name) who used to come to our old school - he had a drum that was also a seat, he would start telling a story, make us engrossed into the story so much and then he would make a big sound with his drum that it would scare all of us a LOT. When you watch anime and other people watch it you can bond with them very easily. It's like you've made a best friend through the screen. I love anime that is relatable, intense and has lots of ghting. It's like a massage for your brain, you take a deep breath and you feel ne. It's like that with anime. Like in a scene from the episode the 'God of High School', the main character comes from school and face-plants into his bed. To be honest I don't face-plant into the bed but I get the same feeling, like you are sinking into the bed. It's relatable because it's what happens in everyday life. For example, when you are asked to go to the store to get something but you don't want to It's relatable in that way. Everything contributes to what you're watching - the music, the video and the characters. But you do also get bored of anime and if you don't start watching something more entertaining then you will fully stop watching it. - 17 -
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Cultivating Relationships Abdul (20) A er reading the classic one straw revolution , I was sure I wanted to live a farmer's life. I was electri ed with the sheer con dence with which Masanobu Fukuoka, the writer of the book, spoke about his methods. All I had to do was observe nature and emulate it. I began dreaming. I wanted to bring about a revolution, the one straw revolution in Kodinar So it began and my dad, being very supportive of the idea, took me to one of the lands he had acquired. I fell in love with it the moment I entered. e birds were singing sweet welcoming melodies, and there was clear, glassy water, owing into the open tank then into the elds. A little piece of earth was going to be available to me, for experimenting with sustainable ways of growing food. e soil looked pale, bleached through years of needless ploughing. But things can be healed, and I couldn't wait to see it come back to life. e land was being used by the neighbouring farmer, Pitha Bhai, and his face shrivelled up with shock when he heard that a random boy with naive ideas was going to try growing food there. e boy was saying things like ploughing is bad for the soil. How foolish to think ploughing is not needed e very image that comes to mind when thinking of farming is that of a farmer ploughing the eld in the hot sun. To plough in Guajarati is khed, and farming is kheti. ey're the same word What a waste of money and time… Pitha Bhai had just ploughed the eld for a cotton crop, but soon I took over, so he le the eld to me reluctantly. I had heard from some farmers that nitrogen xing was all the rage, so I peppered the ground with a sheet of urad daal. e seasons turned, and as the skies lled and fell, the seeds began to germinate. Tiny green plants emerged from the brown earth. In no time, the eld was covered in tall, bright green pants that swayed and danced with the wind. I became ecstatic every time I visited the farm, even managing to rejoice with Pitha Bhai, but his dubiousness at these foreign methods and his displeasure at the loss of an income stream still soured his thoughts when he saw the eld. Riding on the wave of con dence from the success of the urad, I made some more investments. I bought a scythe, installed some sprinklers, did some tree plantation. But since when has farming become a layman's job is is nature I was trying to work with, and it has its own ways of working. the urad kept growing taller and taller, competing for sunlight. Soon it started to reach a little over my knees, which is too tall for urad. When it poured heavily, all the plants bent down and attened against the soil. Suddenly, the eld became host to the caterpillars. Every leaf was covered with eggs and every stem rustled with the foreboding sound of restless wings. ousands of butter ies were ying out into the sky. e lush green eld became a torn brown carpet, with a few sparse patches of leaves peeking timidly at the sunlight. But I made my peace it with soon, I had not expected a bumper crop in the rst year. A er being there for some time, I picked up the local accent. Slowly I became more accessible to Pitha Bhai and his family and our interactions increased and diversi ed. We'd have lunch together, sharing warm rotla and saragva nu saak while basking in the cool wind and shade under the ancient Ankol tree. One day I sang a song, Ochintu, to them and Pitha Bhai's son, Jenil, picked it up and sang it for me the next time we met. With the growing plants, our bond grew too, and Pitha Bhai started enjoying what he to called 'jungli kheti'. Over the months, I reduced my patch to a smaller one so that Pitha Bhai could continue farming, and he, in turn, is happy looking a er the patch when I am not there. - 20 -
While I got a taste of the hard labour involved in such a life, I also got a glimpse of what it's like to work together with people. Perhaps that's why Fukuoka says the ultimate goal of natural farming is the cultivation and perfection of human beings Ale - 21 -
From Seed to Seeing In conversation with Chikanna ಉ :ೕ ಗ ಡ ಂ ಎಲ ಶುರು ? ಅಂ ಡಗಳ ಲ ೂೕ ೂಳದು.. ಕಣ : ನು ಡಗಲನ ೂೕ ೂಳ ಶುರು ಎರ ವಷ ಆ ಉ : ಸೂ ಬರ ಮುಂ ೕನು ಇ ಲಸ ಇದ? ಕಣ : ನಂದು ಇ ಲಸ. ಕ ಂದ ನು ಇ ಲಸ ಇ . ಅ ಆಶಮದ ಲಸ . ೨೫ ವಷ ಂದ ೂೕ ಇ ಲಸ ಇ . ಉ : ಅ ೂೕಟ ಇ ? ಕಣ : ಇ ಥರ. ೂೕಟ, ತರ ಡ, ಹ ನ ಮರ... ತರ ಳಯದು, ಹಸುಗಳ ಲು ಕ ಯು ದು... ಹಸುಗಳ ಲ ಮುಟು . ಆರು ಹಸುಗಳು ಇ . ಅವ ೕ ಕದು, ಲು ಕ ಯದು ಎಲ ಇ ಉ : ಮ ಏನು ಇಷ ಡ ಂ ಬ ? ಕಣ : ಡ ೕ ಏ ಲ ... ಇ ಗ ನು ಏ ೂೕ ಅ ೕ ನಂ ಇಷ . ತರ ಳಯದು.. ಡಗಳು ಚ ರ ೕಕು.. ನನ ಅ ೕ ಒಂದು ಸಂ ೂೕಷ. ೕ ನಂ ೕನು ೂೕಸ ಲ . ಓ ಈ ಡ ನು ಳ ದು , ಇ ಗ ಬಂ ... ಅ ೕ ನ ಮ ತೃ . ಇ ಗ ತರ ಎಲ ಏ ೕ ೕ , ಅದು ಇ ೕ ಗದ ದೂನು ಎ ಚ ಬ ಇ ೕ. ಉ : ೕ ಇ ಲ ೕರಲ ... ಅದು ಬರು .. ಅ ಗ ಮ ಂ ಅನು ? ಕಣ : ಓ ಇದು ಚ ಬಂ ... ಇದು ನು ದು ... ಈಗ ಲ ೖತರುಗಳು ಏ ೕ ೂೕ ೕ ೂಬ, ೕ ಎಲ .ಚ ಬ ಲ . ಸಲ ಹಸು ೂಬ . ೕರು ೂ ೕ . ಅದು ಚ ಬ ಇ ೕ ಅಂತ ನಮ ಮ ತೃ ಬರು . ೕ ಅ ೕಳ .. ಮದು ಕದು ಗ ಅದ ಬರು . ಗದ ೕ . ಬರಲ . ಅಂತ ೕ . ಅ ಅ ೕ ಥರ ೂಡ ಗದ ಕ ಕ ಗ ಕ ಬರು . ಅ ಒಂ ೕ ಸಲ ಏನು ...ಇಷುದ ಗನೂ ಒಂ ೕ ಥರ ಒಂ ೕ ಸಲ . ಅದು... ಭೂ ಏರು ೕರು ಇರು . ೂಬ ಸಕಲ ಒಂ ೂಂದು ಡ . ೕರು ಕಲ . ಇ ಗ ಏನು ೕ ಒಂ ೕ ಇ ಅದ ಎಲ ೕರು ಕವ ಆಗು . ಒಂದು ತವ ಮಣು ಇತ . ಮಣು ಇಲ ೕರು ೂೕಗಲ . ಗ ಲ ಕ ಅ ಡ ಸತು ೂೕ ಡ . ಆ ಂದ ಡಗಳನ ೂೕ ೕ ತುಂ ಇಷ . ಉ : ಡ ೕ ಲ ಅಂ ಅ ಗ ಂ ಅನು ? ಕಣ : ೕ ಲ ಅಂ ... ಅ ಗ ಡ ಸಲ ತ ನಲೂ ಬ ಇರು . ಗೂ ಡದ ದ ೕ ೕಜ ೕಕು. ಕ ಅದ ೕ ಗು ೂೕ ೂಬ ಗು ೂೕ.. ಏನು ಲ ಅಂ ೕಜ ಪವ ಬರಲ . ಗ ೕಜ ಬರಲ . ೕಲು ೕಜ ಇರು . ದ ೕ ೕಜ ಅಂತ , ಸ ಡ ವಗು ದ ೕ ೕರು ರು . ೕಜ ಬ ಇರು . ೂಬ ಇರು . ಅ ಗ ಅ ೂ ೕಜ ಗ ಬರು . ಆ ೕಜ ಒಣ ೕಜನ ಮ ಉಪ ಗಸ ೂೕದು. ಬಂ ಅಂತ ನ ಉಪ ಗ ಮ ೕಜ ೂಳ ಗಲ . ವತೂ ಫ ೕಜ ಟ ೕಕು. ಆ ೕ ಬರದು ಅದು. ಉ : ಏ ದೂ ಬ ಇ ೂ ಗು ಮ ಏನ ಅಂತ... ಕಣ : ೂ ಗು . ೕಜ ಂದ ೕ ಬ ಬರದು. ಅದ ಪವ ಇರಲ . ಸಲ ಕ ಕ ಎರ ಬಂದು ಸತು ೂೕಗು . ಡ ಳ ೂೕದು ನಂ ಅನುಭವ ಬಂ . ಹುಂ ತ ಆಳ ೂ ೕಕು. ಸುಮ ಸಲ ಹುಂ ಡ ೕರು ಆಳ ೂೕಗಲ . ಭೂ ಒಳ ಂದ ಡ ಮರ ೕ ೕಕು. ೕರು ತುಂ ಆಳ ೂೕ ೕಕು. ಆಳ ಹುಂ ೂಬ ಡ ಳಸ ಮರ ಯು . ಇಲ ಅಂ ಡ ಬರಲ ಅದು... - 22 -
Farming in Uncertainity In conversation with Munirajanna ಉ : ಮ ಏನು ಇಷ ಡ ಂ ಬ ? ಮು ಜು ಅಣ : ನನ ತರ ಯು ದು, ಡ ೂೕ ೂಳದು... ಪಕೃ : ಮು ಂದ ಡಇ ೕ ? ಜು ಅಣ : ಎರಡು ಮೂರು ವಷ ಂದ ೕ ಉ : ಇದ ಮುಂ ಏ ? ಮು ಜು ಅಣ : ನಂದು ೂೕಟ ಇ . ಹಸು ಇ . ಅ ಲಸ ೕ. ದೂ ಕರ ಲ ೂೕ ೕ . ೂೕಟದ ತರ ಏ ದೂ ೕ ೕ . ಉ :ಏ ಏ ೕ ೕ? ಮು ಜು ಅಣ : ೂ ೕ ೂ, ೕ , , ೕ ... ಪಕೃ : ಗ ಮ ಂ ಅನು ? ಮು ಜು ಅಣ : ಒಂ ಸ ೕ ಇತ . ಲ ಸ ೕ ಇರಲ . ಒಂ ಥರ ಟ ಇದ ಹಂ . ೕ ಇ ಗ ತರ ಬರಲ . ತರ ಬಂ ಗ ೕ ಇರಲ . ಪಕೃ : ಅದು ಬಂ ಗ ೕ ರು ಆಗು ? ಮು ಜು ಅಣ : ೕ ರು ಆಗು . ಇಷು ಬಂಡ ಳ ಏನು ಆ ಲ ಅಂತ ೕ ರು ಆಗು . ಇ ಗ ೂೕಟ ೕಕು ಅಂ ತುಂ ಖಚು ಆಗು . ೂಬ, ಮದು , ೕಜ ಅ ಲ ೕ. - 23 -
Nature Tanvi I get up feeling numb. Gathering myself, I gradually come to the present. As I feel a calmness within, rough the window I see the Sun. Some memories from yesterday come uninvited, creating ripples in my mind. e Sun has gone behind a tree branch. As it dances with the wind, e Sun plays hide-n-seek. I remember a blunder I did. Fear grips me and I struggle to think. Suddenly I see clouds covering the sky, eventually blocking the sun. ere is not an iota of the calm I just felt. My hijacked mind craves for a resolution. I remember a golden question: What is the worst that can happen is silences my chattering mind for a moment. e wind stops too, enhancing the silence. Running through possibilities, I look for answers. As a thunder roars through the sky, a question emerges: What will people say if they come to know Overwhelmed I break into tears As I extend my arm through the window, I can feel the drops splashing on my skin. A er a while, the rain stops. e Sun has moved up in the clear sky. It shines again in its brilliance. But I am stuck with the same question: What will people say - 24 -
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Across the Dusk Nandana (17) e cold water splashes against my knees. It's a dark thick green, with layer upon translucent layer ltering away any light that dances on the surface. A small breeze shivers past making the trees and bushes rustle and tense on the banks. e rock at the far end is a thin brown line, an insigni cant speck against the vast expanse of water. e sky above is a heavy grey with purple patches of dissolving light escaping the clouds. It is six o'clock and I am standing on a carpet of touch-me-nots, knee deep in the western end of the swimming lake. I had slowly built up from hanging around within a few feet of land to swimming to the halfway point without anyone accompanying me, and I had decided that today I would do a complete length without stopping at all. I wade in a bit more, then jump, and the initial sting of the water tightens around me like a st before releasing its grip as I paddle forward. I watch the surface through my hair that's plastered against my skin, dripping water into my eyes. Other people are coming in now, their strokes sending ripples that fan out and clash into each other. I take a deep breath and press on, ipping onto my back whenever I get tired and watching all the stopping points longingly as I slowly pass them. I am beyond the cement pole, the farthest I have ever gone, with a third of the lake le ahead. e end rock is in front, but it remains far away, as if time and distance are waiting for me to catch up; my strokes are pushing at water, but it grips and shackles my hands, and my movements are futile. My muscles tighten and cramp, so I ip onto my back, but backstroke all alone in uncharted territory makes my breath catch even more. Now the sky is a dark grey, and from the banks a dead tree's skeleton reaches up over me to the heavy clouds. A large heron glides past, its soundless wings spreading a veil of shadow across my vision as it ies directly above. I can hear sounds under the water, echoes of people and other creatures, the water distorting and mixing their voices before allowing them to reach me. I ip back onto my front, pretending not to notice the little bubbles that are quietly popping themselves nearby. e rock at the eastern end is close now, and I try standing, panic and frustration owing over me as my feet prod the relenting water. At last I nd rock, and when I have calmed down, I stand up and turn. Now it's fully dusk, and in the distance grainy people stand a few inches high at the halfway mark. I am alone at the end of a long body of murky green, with the thorny banks and water so still, as if they are holding their breath in anticipation of nightfall. Silence… Suddenly a drongo dives in with a splash of movement, snapping the stillness like a rubber band. I wait, watching the ripples die away, their shimmering spots of colour winking themselves back into the water. en, bracing myself, I kick o from the rock and start my journey back, my ngers now carving the so water with ease. When I reach the halfway point, I stand on the rock and turn around. Time has dropped a blanket of quiet, and the Earth is starting to sleep. e plants on the banks are limp and relaxed, and the birds are snug in their roosts, waiting patiently for the cicadas to begin their nocturnal shi . It is time for us to leave, and as I step out drops fall from my clothes, each one creating a splash of smaller droplets, as white and shiny as the last. I stand on the grassy bank, watching the undulating ripples as they bump into the land. Soon it will be too dark to see them. - 29 -
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Sharanya (10) - 33 -
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Harmony Viji It is always fascinating to see all the di erent postures in which Nova and Choco (our dogs) sleep. A er Novas early years, lled with teething troubles and tension between her and Choco, they are carbon copies of each other when it comes to sleeping. eir postures beautifully mimic pretzels and parentheses, which makes me want to sketch them in their unique behaviour. e next time I saw them sleeping with the same posture, I started observing them closely with my drawing supplies at hand. Immediately their eyes shot open and they looked at me as if asking why aren t you petting me . Slowly, they both went back to sleep and I began to draw Nova, and as I nished her sketch, she moved away and I turned my attention to Choco. As I began drawing her, I could sense that she was becoming uncomfortable through the way she changed her posture. Her hind legs were drawn close to her body as she curled up, staring at me questioningly. I spoke to her while sketching and gradually, she went back to sleep with minimal movement, allowing me to complete the sketch. She slept soundly until I nished my drawing and put down the pencil, at which point she woke up and walked away gently. Both of them were lled with love and trust throughout the drawing process, even though they may have been shy of the close scrutiny. - 36 -
My Dadi Mauliki (13) As my grandmother ties up her thin, salt-pepper hair, her big earrings which seem to be holding on for dear life, sparkle in the blazing hot evening sunlight. She has ush cheeks and pearly white skin and is almost always smiling. She's draped in a beautiful ash grey satin sari with prints of owers on it. On her wrists, she s wearing two golden bangles, bejewelled with green and red stones. She's always telling me stories of when I was younger, 'tu choti thi jabi na (when you were younger no)' and then she starts o . As she shares the story, a radiant and warm smile captures her face, her so co ee brown eyes sweetly look at me. I always enjoy the time I spend with her, she's always pampering me with snacks and TV, she never fails on bringing a smile to my face. While leaving, she always gives me something to take home-fruits, vegetables, chocolates or some sweets. As I walk down the stairs, I can see her leaning against the door waiting for me, then I get into the car and bid her goodbye till next time. - 37 -
Lali Varun (19) She wakes up bright and cheery, as I look at her still quite dreary. Her tail brown and happily wagging, her small tongue out and hanging. Joyously does her eye twinkle, and looks at the door with a forehead wrinkle. To signal she scrapes the wooden door, that it's time to unlatch for sure. Out the door she goes with a bound, straight at the birds who scatter around. She then struts back looking delighted, as the birds look on unhappy and spited. A stretch she does arching her back, then rolls over, her collar going clack She then proceeds to take a long nap, and a happy dream does she seem to kidnap. Working Together In conversation with Puttakka ಉ : ೕ ಆ ೂ ಎಷು ವಷ ಂದ ಲಸ ಡು ? ಟಕ : ಒಂದು - ಒಂದೂವ ವಷ ಆ . ಆ ಕನಡ ಬ ೂೕ ಲ . ಸಲ ಅಥ ಆಗು . ೕ ದು ಅದ ಅಥ ಆಗಲ . ಆಗ ಮಕ ೕ ಡು ೕ . ಇ ಗ ೕ ತರಹ ಡ ಆಗಲ . ಗಮ ೂ ೂೕ ತರಹ ಡ ಆಗಲ . ಮುಂ ಆ ೂ ಗು ಇರ ಲ . ಇ ಗ ಎ ೂ ಗು . ೕ ೕ ಆ ತರಹ ಆರು ಂಗ ನ ಈಗ ೕಗ ಕ . - 38 -
Angel or Devil Zain (13) I have two of the world's cutest dogs and I love them more than you can imagine, but do they feel the same for each other I remember when they rst met… FLASHBACK My family and I were waiting anxiously in the hall and when the bell rang, we all sprang up excitedly and rushed to open the door. I was standing at the back so I tip-toed to see Miso, a small white furball, bursting with energy and curiosity as she tried to drag her current parents into the house. I had leashed Cocoa and held him rmly, while he was confused and also oblivious to the situation. en he saw Miso and he snapped. Words cannot describe the disgust and hostility on his face as he barked at her to BACK OFF from his territory, our house, his safe paradise for two years now ever since he came to us. He was just a tiny orange-brown puppy (he had been rescued from the streets by a kind man) and now another dog dared to come in Cocoa would not have it. Of course, we were all disappointed but it wasn't the end of the road yet. Miso graced us with her presence a few more times, and Cocoa miraculously struck up a liking for her (she already loved him) and they ran all around the house, tackling each other to the ground and nipping at each other. Cocoa was then willing to compromise as Miso proved a great play- ghting partner (even though she was half his size and he took it easy on her). On Miso's rst night at home a er the pair were tired from playing all day long, she found a cosy spot and opped down, spreading herself out as wide as she possibly could. Cocoa had already settled down on a sofa and he hopped down and trotted to Miso. He sni ed her belly and her face to make sure she was feeling okay and she li ed her head and licked the tip of his nose to say that she was ne or so I guessed. A relieved Cocoa returned to his spot and fell asleep. BACK TO THE PRESENT Miso is now bigger than Cocoa (who's only about 2 feet tall) and she is also the biggest and most devilish bully. When Cocoa gets even a little attention, she blocks his path to us and doesn't let him pass, barking right into his ears. Cocoa, trying to maintain an angelic attitude for everyone's safety, moves away from her silently, but when he can't take it anymore he unleashes the scary and devilish side of him (which is actually pretty funny to look at if you're not the victim) and she quickly backs away, putting on an angelic and innocent face. Five minutes later, she's back and still chewing his ear o (literally and guratively). You might be wondering 'Who exactly is the angel and who is the devil ' because of my title; but what I'm trying to convey is that they have both sides to them, everyone does And it's okay, because even though it doesn't look like it sometimes, they love each other and care for each other a lot, just like we do and nothing can change that - 39 -
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My Animals In conversation with Santosh ಉ :ೕ ವ ವ ಗಳ ಲ ೂೕ ೂೕ ೕ ? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ೕ , ಹಸು ಎರ ೕ.. ಉ : ಎರ ೕನ? ಮ ವ ಇಷ? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ೕ ? ಉ : ೕ ೕನ? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ೕ ಅಂ ಖಚು ಕ . ಮ ೂರಗ ೂಂಡು ೂೕ ೕ ೂಳದು ಅ ೕ . ಮ ಮ ಗ ಲ ಲು ಕು ೂೕಹಂ ಲ ಏ ಲ . ಅ ೕ ಕು ಯು . ೕ ಮ ನ ತ ಲು ಕು ಸ ೕಕು. ಆ ೕ ಅ ೕ ಡು . ಹಂ ೕ ಇಷ . ಉ :ಆ ೕ ೕ ಎ ನಲುನು..? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ೕ ಎ ಗ ಂತ ೕ ಇಷ ... ಉ : ಗಳ ಹತ ಇ ಗ ಂ ಅನು ಮ ? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ಖು ಆಗು ಉ: ? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ಆಟ ಆಡದು, ಓ ಡದು ಎ ೂೕಡ ... ಉ :ಆ ೕ ಗ ೕ ಏ ದೂ ೕಳ ಡ ಅಥ ಆಗು ? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ಅಥ ಆಗು . ಉ : ಂ? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ಅದು... ತೃ ನ ಡ .. ಉ : ಮ , ಅ ೕ ದು ೕಳ ಮ ಅಥ ಆಗು ? ಸಂತು ಅಣ : ೂ ಹಸ ಗ ಗ ಡು ..ಆ ಥರ ಇ ಗ ೂ ಗು . - 46 -
Srishti (18) - 47 -
Kal Phir Milenge Saanj (16) ese color-soaked skies of tangerine orange, blushes of magenta, and highlights of amethyst always bring with them elements of comfort and nostalgia. Almost everyday since I was little, I looked up at the sky every evening and locked my eyes into the sunset. Some days I watched it go by from the plane whilst on other days we were sitting in a circle playing the guitar and singing shaam but on most days it was just me quietly staring into the sky, letting it absorb me like a whirlpool. e most magical part of my relationships with the sunsets was that, no matter where i was in the world, they would always come and nd me…. Pradosh - 48 -
Purple-rumped Sunbird Aditi (16) e way the Purple-rumped sunbird is perched on the ower, ready to take o is what appeals the most to me in this photograph. It grasps the stalk of the red hibiscus so rmly yet so gently. I am fond of this photograph also because this is one of my earliest shots. I was fortunate to click just before the bird ew away. Reliable Companions Sachin When the fan falls silent, Breeze and moonlight sing their songs. My summer night friends. - 49 -
Eksha (6) - 50 -
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