Showing posts with label Culture and Heritage. Show all posts

Flower Power: Keukenhof

Posted on Saturday, July 2, 2016 by Deepa

Keukenhof is something that Indians would be quite familiar with. Perhaps not by name. But if I showed you a picture, I guarantee that you would immediately know what I am talking about.

I am talking about the world famous tulip gardens of Amsterdam. And if you still don’t know what these are, you either don’t watch Indian films or (as a friend once said of me) ‘you live under a rock!’

Keukenhof, also known as the ‘Garden of Europe’ is one of the world’s largest flower gardens. It is located in a place called Lisse on the outskirts of Amsterdam in 32 sprawling acres with 800 varieties of tulips and nearly seven million blooms. Every year, the gardens see nearly 800,000 visitors and since it opened, 50 million people have visited it. 

The word ‘keukenhof’ means kitchen garden in Dutch. In the 15th century, the gardens used to be part of hunting grounds. It provided herbs for the nearby castle of Jacqueline, Countess of Hainut from where it derives its name. After her death, the ownership of the estate passed into the hands of rich merchants. In the 19th century, the owners commissioned landscape artists Jan David Zocher and his son Louis Paul Zocher, to design the grounds around the castle. In its current form, the gardens were established in 1949 by the then mayor of Lisse.

The purpose of the gardens was to exhibit flowers of growers from all over the Netherlands and thus boost the Netherland’s export economy of flowers. So in that respect, Keukenhof is actually a living and growing advertisement. What a novel and attractive way to showcase and market your products!

Tulips found their way to the Netherlands from the Ottoman Empire (modern day Turkey) in the 16th century. The foundation of the Dutch tulip industry is attributed to Carolus Clusius, a Flemish doctor and botanist. Right from the start, tulips were a huge hit and Clusius's garden was frequently raided and flowers regularly stolen! During the Dutch Golden Age there was a period called 'Tulip Mania' when the prices of tulips climbed so high that they were used as money till the market finally crashed. 

Today the Netherlands is the largest exporter of flowers in the world. The Dutch produce 4.32 billion tulip bulbs each year, some 53% of which (2.3 billion) are grown into cut flowers. Of these, 1.3 billion (or 57%) are sold in the Netherlands as cut flowers and the remainder is exported: 630 million bulbs in Europe and 370 million outside of Europe. So the beautiful Keukenhof gardens and the acres and acres of multi coloured tulip carpeted fields surrounding it are not just about aesthetics. It is serious business!! (note: the tulip gardens should not be confused with the tulip fields.)  

Back home in India, Keukenhof and the tulip fields seem to have captured the imagination of Indian film makers (ok, maybe not as much as the Swiss Alps, but still). Both the gardens and the fields have appeared in several Indian films. The one that is most popular among the Hindi film viewing audience is, of course, the evergreen song ‘dekha ek khwab’ from the Amitabh-Jaya-Rekha starrer Silsila. This song is picturised only in the tulip fields and not in Keukenhof. The montage of colours perfectly expresses the euphoria of love. 


Keukenhof appears in another song from the same film – 'ye kahan aa gaye hum'. This beautiful song, is rendered magical by poetry in Amitabh's deep baritone. The lyrics blend in beautifully with Keukenhof's winding paths lined with flower beds along the gently flowing waters of a lake. 


Keukenhof and the tulip fields, both, are also seen in Raj Kapoor’s Prem Rog for the song ‘bhanwre ne khilaya phool’. 


The film, as you may know, is about widow remarriage. So, the visual of a plain, white clad Padmini Kolhapure, framed by the brightly coloured tulips, is actually quite metaphorical. 

Down south, the tulip fields appear in the song 'Kumari' from the Tamil film Anniyan. Personally I did not take a shine to the song and in fact found it jarring. First of all, I cannot understand why it is shot in the tulip fields. When one has such a strong backdrop for a song, I feel it might have been better to generally tone down the song. The music does not blend well with the ambiance of the beautiful tulips. The make up and costumes seem loud and out of place. There are these four guys dressed like caricatures running around the lead pair with assorted musical instruments which is frankly annoying. And you can see cars driving past in the distance!! 



The tulip gardens and fields once again make an appearance in a song from the Tamil film Nanban. This is your typical jhatak matak film song and is actually quite dreadful. If I were a tulip in Keukenhof, I would be seriously offended at the ridiculous dancing and bewildering costume changes. I mean....I'm the star of this show. What do you mean by taking attention away from me in this garish and distasteful way?! 


 (Disclaimer: I have not seen either film. I do not have the context in which the songs are set and I do not understand Tamil well enough to get a sense of the lyrics. So please forgive me if I sound harsh. I would also add that Hindi film songs and picturisations in today's YoYo Honey Singh world would probably be equally horrible if not worse.)

Now a bit about my visit to Keukenhof. What a spectacular visual treat! One can't help but feel completely special when one sets eyes on these blooms. But just seeing it with your eyes is not enough.  You need to experience it with all your senses and feel the beauty of the flowers permeate your entire being. I can't explain it. You feel like you've arrived in paradise and you just want to sink into all this beauty and be transported to some place else. The smile never leaves your face!

From Deepa's collection


From Deepa's collection

My advice to those going to Keukenhof:  You must visit the place with your beloved. Hold hands, cuddle, kiss, express your love. This is the perfect setting for it. Take loads of photographs. It would be criminal not to! There are little corners that provide lovely backdrops to take pictures. Little bits of whimsy here and there. Like gigantic clogs or klompen as they are called in Dutch, right in the middle of a pathway, that will make you laugh out loud. Step into them and click away. Walk up the wooden staircase in the windmill and step onto the balcony  You will get a lovely view of the canal and tulip fields that border that part of the garden. Take a boat ride on the canal and you can float past the lovely and colourful tulip fields. 
No crying about no shoes here! (Deepa's collection)

Visit the various pavilions to see a wide selection of plants and flower shows. The Beatrix Pavilion is reserved especially for orchids. The Keukenhof website claims it to be the most beautiful orchid show in all of Europe. The Willem-Alexander exhibition showcases lilies while the Orange Nassau Pavilion shows off how flower bulbs can be used in interior design.  

Orchids at Beatrix Pavilion (Deepa's collection)
The gardens are open every year only during spring, between April and May. In 2017, they are scheduled to be open from 23 March to 21 May. 

Cute displays just made for photography (Deepa's collection)

So if you are visiting Amsterdam, be sure to visit this lovely piece of nature and enjoy a day out among the flowers. 

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Amsterdam's Red Light District

Posted on Saturday, June 25, 2016 by Deepa


Even if you know absolutely zilch about Amsterdam, you would have heard about its Red Light District. De Wallen or De Walletjes is one of the most famous tourist attractions of the city. Tourists come here in droves (myself included!) to see women of all nationalities display their 'attractions' in big glass windows illuminated in red light. De Wallen, Singelgebied and Ruysdaelkade, form the Rosse Buurt or red light areas of Amsterdam. 

Prostitution is legal in the Netherlands and was legalised in the year 2000. But it was not always so. A perusal of the country's history indicates that during the Middle Ages (ie 5-15 centuries AD), prostitution was tolerated as a 'necessary evil' but considered to be a dishonourable profession. In the 16th century, the city of Amsterdam started regulating prostitution. Only the police could keep a brothel. According to accounts dating back to 1413, these were confined to two streets in Amsterdam, Pijlsteeg and Halsteeg. Those who practiced prostitution elsewhere in the city were arrested and their clients fined. 

In the 17th century, however, with the decline of the Catholic religion and rise of Protestantism, the city stopped regulating prostitution. It was outlawed and prostitutes were considered 'evil' and having a polluting influence. Moreover, the implementation of anti prostitution laws was weak and and the enforcers preferred to leave brothels alone as long as they did not cause any trouble. 

In the 18th century, with a growing middle class (possibly due to the Industrial Revolution), public attitudes towards prostitution became more rigid, moralistic and conservative.  The working conditions of prostitutes was bad, with many of them living in poverty, being exposed to sexually transmitted diseases and bearing the illegitimate children of their clients. 

In the beginning of the 19th century, when Netherlands was under the rule of King Louis Bonaparte, prostitution was once again regulated to protect soldiers against venereal diseases. Prostitutes were forced to register themselves and undergo mandatory medical examinations. They were provided with a red card which was a sort of work permit. If they were found to be infected with any venereal disease, their red card was taken away and replaced with a white card and prohibited from working until they were free of their disease. 

Later in the 19th century, prostitution came under the purview of the Abolitionist movement (a movement in Western Europe and the Americas to end slavery) that called for the abolition of regulated prostitution in the manner that it was being practiced at the time.  The living conditions of prostitutes continued to be bad or worsen. They were usually under the control of a madam, living under severe debt and with strict control over their mobility. At first the movement targeted only the mandatory health checks for prostitutes but later shifted focus to the exploiters and people who profited from prostitution 

From the late 20th century onwards, a policy of tolerance or gedoogbeleid  was adopted by many local governments. This policy was premised on harm reduction based on the belief that anti prostitution laws would be counter productive and the best way to protect women was to 'tolerate' prostitution. Although prostitution was defined as a legal profession in 1988, it took until the year 2000 for it to move from the limbo of 'tolerance' to getting full legal status. 

The Netherlands is one of the most progressive countries in the world. I recently heard that due to a negligible crime rate, their empty jails are being used to house Syrian refugees! So the way their history, on the issue of prostitution, has evolved, is nothing less than commendable. However, as one of the top three organised crimes in the world, the dark underbelly of this profession is not so easily controlled. The Dutch government has been cracking down and shutting brothels where crime is taking place and I am sure they will have to continue to be alert and active to prevent crime and injustice. 

So what did our trio do on that chilly May evening in De Wallen? After my husband and I picked up our fallen jaws from the pavement and after our eyes had settled back into their sockets, we took a brief tour of the streets of the RLD. I held fast to my husband's hand and hissed a warning of  "Only Looking!" at him. 

I witnessed a gorgeous woman with platinum blonde hair, barge out of the window and threaten to break a man's camera when she caught him photographing her. (Photography is STRICTLY prohibited in the RLD). I looked at the sex toys displayed in shop windows in awe, my mind not comprehending to what use they could be put. I looked askance at a young man (overcome by a smorsgasbord of morality and feminism) when he gawked at one of the girls in the window and said "What a rack!" and then proceeded to negotiate a deal with her for 50 Euro. I smiled at how my two escorts barricaded me against the testosterone driven crowd. I argued that I wanted to visit the museum of prostitution while my husband and his friend dissuaded me. It was only because I could barely feel my toes in the freezing five degree temperature that I gave up the idea. 

I finally came away from the RLD feeling philosophical about the complete commodification of the female form and an economy that is built upon two breasts and a vagina. 

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Museum Magic - Rijksmuseum

Posted on Sunday, June 5, 2016 by Deepa


Truth be told, I didn't know much about museums in Europe. I knew about the Louvre - of course - Dan Brown made sure of that. But beyond that my knowledge was pretty sketchy. So visiting the many museums that Europe has to offer, was a revelation and an education.

The city of Amsterdam is famed for its canals. It is also home to the Rijksmuseum. Apart from the priceless artefacts housed here, the museum itself is of some antiquity. It was founded in the year 1798 as a means of promoting national unity following the establishment of the Batavian Republic in 1795. In 1800 it first opened its doors in The Hague. In 1808 it moved to Amsterdam on the orders of King Louis Bonaparte. In 1885 it moved to its current location.

The museum displays some priceless artefacts. The most famous are paintings by Rembrandt, Frans Hals and Johanees Vermeer. (Don't worry if these names don't ring bells. The only one I recognised was Rembrandt! But hopefully, you will know more about them after reading this post). Giving below a description of some of the paintings which appealed to me.

The Night Watch, Rembrandt: I knew NOTHING about this painting. When my husband told me we are going to see The Night Watch in Rijksmuseum, I asked him 'what's that'. My shocked husband told me to look it up online. So I did.

Photo source: Deepa's personal collection
The Night Watch is Rembrandt's 1642 painting of the 'Militia Company of District II under the command of Captain Frans Banninck Cocq' The Rijksmuseum site informs us that it was his largest and most famous painting. And rightly so. The play of light in the painting is awesome. In the vast expanse of the painting, light has been used cleverly to highlight the main figures of the captain and his lieutenant. An interesting interpretation attached to the painting  I found in Wikipedia says that "the Night Watch is symmetrically divided, firstly to illustrate the union between the Dutch Protestants and the Dutch Catholics, and secondly to evoke the war effort against the Spaniards. For instance, according to Rembrandt's multilayered design, the taller captain (in black) symbolizes the Dutch Protestant leadership, loyally supported by the Dutch Catholics (represented by the shorter lieutenant, in yellow)."

Photo source: Deepa's personal collection
The Milkmaid, Johannes Vermeer: OK, so I had never heard of this artist (said she shamefaced). Although the painting is titled The Milkmaid, it is actually of a maid working in the kitchen. Which is why the painting is sometimes also called The Kitchen Maid. It depicts a sturdy young woman, wearing clothing of the time, pouring milk from one container into another. Although this is just an everyday scene, there is something mesmerising about it-the way light shines in from the window on the left and illuminates half the woman's face, the young woman's absorption with her task, the foot warmer on the right with the detailing on the tiles. Personally I found this painting even better than The Night Watch (oops! can i say that?!).

My husband and I have jokingly nicknamed these two paintings as 'watchman' (like the security guards in our apartment blocks) and 'paalkaari' (milk maid in Tamil)

Photo source: Rijksmuseum website
The Threatened Swan, Jan Asselijn: Again, knew nichts about the painting and the artist. This was the first painting acquired by the Nationale Kunstgalerij (the forerunner of Rijksmuseum) in 1880. It depicts a swan fiercely defending her nest from a dog. It has been interpreted as a political allegory of Johan De Witt (a very high ranking Dutch official who was assassinated in 1672 ) defending the country from enemies. Wikipedia says that "Three inscriptions had been added: the words "de raad-pensionaris" (the grand pensionary) between the swan's legs, the words "de viand van de staat" (the enemy of the state) above the head of the dog on the left, and the name "Holland" on the egg on the right." (I really do not recall seeing this).

I'm going to stop here with the descriptions. There was so much more to see and marvel at, that the museum would need a dedicated blog! The third floor was contemporary art (which my husband snorted derisively at) and the ground floor had textile heritage showcasing changing fashions over the centuries There was also a section on the most amazing dolls houses - but I will save that for another day. A Van Gogh self potrait - which  I will not dwell on here as I plan to cover Vincent in my next post.

There is one matter that deserves mention and appreciation. This pertains to the easy accessibility that the Rijksmuseum provides to senior citizens, parents with infants and persons with disability. All the floors were easily accessible by wheel chair and stroller and allowed movement with dignity. Nobody was in anybody's way. If only our own museums and public buildings in India could do the same.

A few points to note if you're planning a visit. You can prebook your tickets (highly recommended). Just visit the Rijksmuseum website for that. Be careful to note the timings and holidays. The museum is easily reached by tram or bus or even bicycle if you are so minded. You will need to deposit your baggage in a locker. Photography is allowed inside the museum although without flash. And, saving the best for last, there is free wi-fi!

If you are in Amsterdam, do take the time to visit this wonderful museum. I promise it would be worth your while.

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Europe: Trails and Travails

Posted on Sunday, May 29, 2016 by Deepa

“Traveling—it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” 

― Ibn Battuta, The Travels of Ibn Battutah


The best things in life are those that happen spontaneously. That is a huge confession for me - the inveterate planner obsessed with organisation and uncomfortable with lack of structure.

We hadn't intended on a vacation to Europe. Our sights were set on Australia for which we had won free tickets. But try as we might, our schedules were not allowing us to set time aside for an Australian vacation. This is where a higher power takes over I guess. In January, my husband met a school friend who has migrated to the Netherlands. Over the course of dinner and pleasant conversation, he invited us over to Amsterdam to stay with his family. And that is how it all began. Before we knew it, the itinerary was planned, our leave applications had been approved and we were all set for an awesome vacation in Europe!

As I write this post, our vacation is officially over. We returned home yesterday after a fabulous seventeen days spent touring the Continent. We covered four countries and seven cities. We soaked up the cleanliness and crisp weather of Amsterdam. We exclaimed in delight over the World Heritage Sites and monuments we visited in France and Italy. We sighed over the lack of proper vegetarian food options and groaned about our aching feet. But would we have wanted it any different? Not a chance!!

I'm going to recount the highlights of my dream vacation in the next few posts. I'll try to give a snapshot of the main attractions and tidbits of history and trivia around it. I hope my musings will help you learn a little bit more about these countries and cultures. And if you're planning a similar vacation, maybe my experiences might help you plan it better.

Read on!

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Part III: A Teardrop On The Cheek Of Time: Taj Mahal

Posted on Sunday, May 29, 2011 by Deepa

It took nearly 22 years to build the Taj Mahal. I thought it would take me almost as long before I got around to finishing my Agra trilogy!There is so much that can be written about this monument that has come to symbolise India, that I hardly know where to begin.


The first time I saw the Taj, I must have been around five or six years old. After a day spent going around in a horse drawn 'tanga' we finally saw it in twilight. I seem to recall seeing it bathed in moonlight. Maybe my memory has faded and imagination has taken its place - people ought to see Taj Mahal in moonlight. But the image in my mind is beautiful.

We entered the Taj complex at 3pm. Not the best time to see it - April and that too a Sunday. Take my advice people, if you plan to go here, then early mornings are the best time. The complex opens at 6am. Without the multitudes thronging the grounds, you will have a peaceful visit and actually be able to appreciate the splendour of this grand monument. Do not get taken in by the guides / touts who say that the line is very long and they will get your ticket for an extra payment. The line is long no doubt, but it moves fast.

Armed with our tickets, we moved towards the enormous gateway leading to the Taj. This itself is a lovely structure in warm red sandstone with marble inlay work. I was apprehensive - what if my imagination was all wrong and all that people say about this wonder of the world is hype? What if I was underwhelmed and felt let down? I need not have worried.

Through the gateway, the Taj appeared as an enormous white monument - almost like looking at a giant beast through the keyhole. The visual impact is powerful.

As I emerged out of the gateway, the entire Taj complex lay  sprawled before me. The white marble edifice, the green gardens and the thronging tourists. The sheer beauty and elegance of the monument diffused through my mind. I was reminded of the poem 'Tiger' by William Blake which celebrates the beauty of that powerful beast. Yet, some lines could be applied to the Taj as well: "What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"

As we walked towards the mausoleum, it seemed to grow in size and was towering over us. I recalled an alternate theory surrounding the history of the Taj.  


Shahjahan is described by historians as arrogant and vain. He was the emperor of the largest empire of his time and lord of immense wealth. Many of the most beautiful monuments of the Mughal era were commissioned at his command. He gave himself titles like "Lord of the Age", "Shadow of God", "August Representative of God on Earth". Modern researchers consider these important indicators in analysing his motives for the construction of the Taj Mahal. That he seemed to think he was God's representative on earth.

With this as the backdrop, the design of the actual Taj Mahal site and the inscriptions which adorn its structures take on a different significance. An Islamic academic treatise which existed at that time laid out the  plan of Paradise on The Day of Judgement. Comparison of this plan with the layout of the Taj Mahal gardens shows remarkable similarities like: four rivers, a tank of abundance and the Throne of God in very similar layouts. Unlike most Mughal mausoleums which are placed at the center of their sites, the Taj is placed at its far end. Put these indicators together and they seem to suggest that Shahjahan was creating at least a replica of heaven. 

So were the accounts of Shahjahan's undying love for Mumtaz Mahal just highly exaggerated accounts of his courtiers and chroniclers? Francois Bernier, a French traveler has written that he remained 'constant' to his dead wife till his own death. Now consider this in light of his sojourn in the Mussamman Burj.
 
The Mussamman Burj are the royal chambers in Agra Fort, to which Shahjahan was confined by Aurangazeb. As you know, there was a battle for succession amongst Shahjahan's four sons in which Aurangazeb triumphed. He imprisoned his father at the Mussamman Burj for eight years. Built of white marble with rich inlay work, the chambers hardly look like a prison. Legend has it, that the aging monarch lay here, gazing at the Taj, on the other side of the Yamuna. The picture of romance and heart break. But, cynic that I am, the picture doesn't quite ring true. Here's why.

The story that Shahjahan remained sexually faithful to Mumtaz is pure humbug if you ask  me. He was known to be a man with a huge sexual appetite. In fact, it is rumoured that he had an incestuous relationship with his daughter Jahanara on grounds that it would be "unjust to deny the king the privilege of gathering fruit from the tree he himself had planted." Mumtaz Mahal died at the age of around 39 (in child birth while bearing him his 14th child) and Shahjahan at 74 (overdosing on aphrodisiacs according to some accounts). That would mean close to 35 years of celibacy for an Emperor who considered himself King of the World!!

I see that I've wandered far away from the monument into speculation of the lives that are linked with its history. But in my opinion, that is what makes the Taj Mahal fascinating. The stories behind its splendour and magnificence. The stories that lie in the shadow of its shining white marble-War, blood, betrayal, fratricide, incest.

Before I close, I want to share one more thing. A few years ago, I attended a conference on public health. An IAS officer was slotted to speak on government schemes on maternal health. I will never forget his opening slide. It was a picture of the Taj Mahal - that wonder of the world, the pride of India. But also, a monument of grief, symbolising the death of a woman - who was married at fifteen, endured fourteen pregnancies and died in child birth. And that my friends, is the teardrop on the cheek of time.




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Part II: Time And Timelessness - Agra Fort

Posted on Sunday, May 15, 2011 by Deepa

Apologies everybody. I've been very tardy about updating my blog. The past few weeks have been so busy - work, home, work, home - that all I could do at the end of each day was fall exhausted into bed and sleep like the dead. Well here I am, on a lazy Sunday (oh! Its been so long since I had one), nothing much to do except update my blog.
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Our next stop was at the Agra Fort. Built of the red sandstone so typical of  the Mughals ,this timeless piece of architecture truly deserves its status as a World Heritage Monument. It has been home to the greatest Mughul emperors at some point or other. Babur lived here for a while after defeating Ibrahim Lodi. Humayun was crowned here. Akbar rebuilt the fort and declared Agra his capital. The fort as we know it today was built by Shahjahan.

Amar Singh Gate
We entered the fort via the Amar Singh Gate and engaged a guide. A word of advice to those who are not so aware about the Fort's history. It is a good idea to engage a guide. They charge about Rs. 400 for a full guided tour. Bear in mind however, that their accounts may not be historically accurate. So, if you're serious about learning the Fort's history, do some reading before or after your visit. If you're interested only in soaking up the history and ambiance of the place, then the guide's account would be more than enough. Peppered as it is with folk lore and legend, it makes for a romantic hearing.

As we entered the fort area, we crossed a deep moat. The guide informed us that during the reign of the Mughals, there was a 'double moat'. One filled with water and crocodiles and another that was forested and had wild animals to provide a double safety cordon. I have heard about the water moat of course. Most forts have it. But it was the first time I heard about the wild animals moat. And I think it is what historians would call 'an interpolation' although it sounded very grand!

Jahangiri Mahal
The Jahangiri Mahal inside the fort, is a beautiful palace made of red sandstone and used to be the main residence of Akbar's  Rajput wives. Architecturally speaking, the palace incorporates Central Asian design features with Rajasthani styles. The guide however, spiced it up with a story of how Akbar, being of a secular bent of mind, used Hindu, Muslim and Christian features in the construction of this palace. He added that Akbar had a Hindu, Muslim and Christian wife and probably wanted to please all three of them. He demonstrated it by showing us the Chatris sitting atop slender, elegant columns, symbolising Rajput / Hindu influence. Then he showed us the arches typical of Islamic construction and finally, a Magen David inlaid in white marble on the elaborate red sandstone gateway into the palace. He did not realise that the Magen David is a  Jewish symbol.

See the 3 Magen-like stars at the top?
While I knew all about Akbar's interest in world religions and the Din-i-Ilahi and also about his Hindu wives, this was the first time I was hearing about a Christian wife. Perhaps there was some Portuguese connection here? After all they had started arriving in India around this time. The guide told us that the Christian wife's name was Mariam. When I looked it up, it said that Akbar married a Rajput princess called Harka Bai who became Mariam-uz-Zamani. She was the mother of Jahangir and was also known as Jodha Bai. So it appears that Akbar did not have a Christian wife after all.

What about the Magen David then? Not much information online. Except a blog reference that said it is not a star of David, but a Hindu symbol. The circle in the middle of the star is an important distinguishing feature. I really must check out these facts with my history prof.

Jahangir's Hauz
Pic courtesy: Flickr
Right outside the Jahangiri Mahal is a very interesting thing - Jahangir's bath tub or Hauz. I kid you not! Take a look at the picture. It looks like a large cup without a saucer! It was made in 1611 and is hewed out of a single piece of stone. It is 5 feet high and 8 feet in diameter at the rim and has Persian inscriptions on its outer rim. There are even small steps leading up into the bath tub. Only a few of the steps survive today. The guide, adding his bit of garnish, said that it was covered in gold foil during its hey day. These royals sure had life easy. I wish I had a bath tub like this! Although perhaps it may not be entirely practical. I have an 8' X 5' bathroom and water is rationed. And given that I have a 'balti bath' daily and which I like very much, I may perhaps drown in such a large tub!

Moving ahead, we visited the Mussamman Burj where Shahjahan was imprisoned. But I will include that in my next post. From this we headed for the Diwan-i-khas or Hall of Private Audience. This had a splendid view of the Yamuna. From a black granite bench on the edge of the terrace, the Taj was visible in the hazy heat of the day. Drawing our attention towards it, the guide asked us to describe how it looked. It was a small, blurry speck in the distance. 'Hold that thought' he said. 

Angoori Bagh
From here we looked over to the enclosed quadrangle of the 'Angoori Bagh'. As the name suggests, it was a vine yard and soil had been brought in specially from Kashmir to grown the grapes. Skirting this, we moved over to the side directly opposite the Diwan-i-khas, passing the Sheesh Mahal where the public were not allowed, and the Ladies Bazaar to the administrative block. From here, the guide asked us if the Taj was still visible and how did it look. Indeed it was still visible and lo! it looked bigger in size than when viewed from the terrace near the Diwan-i-khas. This was an optical illusion he explained. When the Taj is viewed from the balcony of Diwan-i-khas, the river Yamuna is seen winding its way around it. This creates some sort of perspective effect that causes the Taj to look smaller than it actually is. When viewed from farther away, with the Yamuna out of sight, the perspective effect is negated, and the Taj is seen in its actual size. This piece of information did check out when I looked it up. 

Where the Peacock Throne was once housed

Diwan-i-Aam
Nearing the end of our tour, we approached the Diwan-i-Am or Hall of Public Audience where the Peacock Throne was once housed. It is a large hall with colonnades of arches. The throne room is located a few feet above ground and according to our guide, from here, each of the arched pillars is visible individually. The throne room is connected to the royal chambers and from here the royal ladies could witness the proceedings of the court. The courtyard outside the Diwan-i-Aam has the grave of an Englishman named John Mildenhall, apparently the oldest known European grave in Northern India.

This completed our tour of the fort complex. I emerged feeling all soaked up in  history and legend. If the walls, columns and latticed windows of this fort palace could speak, what would they have said I wonder? Would they have spoken of glory and power? Or the tears, sweat and blood that went into it? Do we know everything there is to know or have we only scratched the surface? I guess we can never be sure. 

PS: All photographs in this post are my own except the one of Jahangir's Hauz.

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Part I : Baby Taj

Posted on Sunday, April 24, 2011 by Deepa

When Babloo, our taxi driver informed us that our first stop would be the 'Baby Taj', my friend and I were flummoxed. I am a student of history and I have never heard of anything called 'Baby Taj'.

The tomb of Itimad-ud-Daula, situated on the left bank of the Yamuna is locally known as 'Baby Taj' and considered the draft on which the Taj Mahal was designed. The tomb was built between 1622 and 1628, by Queen Nurjahan for her father Mirza Ghiyas Beg, who held the title 'Itimad-ud-Daula' or Pillar of the State. According to Wikipedia, and in fact, the plaque at the site, the masoluem marks a transition between two phases of Mughal architecture. The first which was dominated by the use of red sandstone and the second in which white marble figured prominently. 

Entrance to Baby Taj

The tomb is situated, like other Mughal buildings, at the center of a large quadrangle with four large gateways along its perimeter. The masauleum housing the cenotaphs are located at the center of a beautiful garden that is watered by shallow waterways fed by the river.
Frontal view of the tomb

Built on a raised plinth, the tomb is a graceful structure in white marble with elegant inlay work and latticed windows. In this tomb are also interred Nurjahan's mother and other relatives. Nurjahan herself is buried in Lahore. 
Cenotaphs of Nurjahan's parents
View of gateway from inside the tomb

It was just about 9 am when we visited the Baby Taj. The day was cloudy with a light breeze making the setting very romantic. The Baby Taj is not as frequented by tourists as the Taj. Without the crowds that throng the Taj, this masoleum offers a quiet and tranquil refuge to the dreamy tourist who wants to linger and savour the history of the place.
A latticed window



Standing at the gateway on the banks of the Yamuna and gazing at the city on the right bank, it is almost as if the river is the line that divides two universes. One covered in a cloak of history and another covered in the dirt and grime that signifies the march of civilization.
Two worlds

Entry fees for Indian nationals is a mere Rs. 10/-. There is also a pay and use toilet that is REALLY CLEAN! You may think I'm crazy to write about toilets after waxing eloquent on the architechural beauty of the tomb. Try taking the 6.15AM Shatabdi out of Delhi to Agra after a heavy dinner the night before and you develop a whole new appreciation for clean pay-and-use facilities!!

Update: 

Before I move onto writing about the Agra Fort, I must tell you about this book I am reading. Its called 'The Shadow Princess' by Indu Sundaresan, part of her Taj Trilogy. The book traces the life of Princess Jahanara, from the time of her mother, Mumtaz Mahal's death, through the power struggle among her brothers, till Aurangazeb becomes the Emperor.

The book is dotted with descriptions of all the lovely places I saw during my visit to Agra. It gives a detailed descriptions of the Baby Taj and how Nurjahan was closely involved in its design and construction. Unfortunately, according to the book, she did not stick around to see it to completion. After Jahangir's death, she became persona non grata with the new Emperor (not that there was any special love between them before that!) and was sent away to spend her remaining days in Lahore. But Shahjahan did acknowledge her genius in designing the Itimad-ud-Daula's tomb and borrowed ideas while designing and executing his ode to love, the Taj Mahal.

Do read the book if you are into historical literature. 

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India's City of Love - Agra

by Deepa

If Kolkata is the City of Joy, then perhaps Agra is India's City of Love. Situated at a distance of 200km from Delhi, Agra served as the capital of the great Mughal Empire during the peak of its power. Today, Agra is best known as the home of the world's greatest monument for love - The Taj Mahal.

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit Agra and soak in its history. Over the course of a day, I visited three monuments: The tomb of Itimad-ud-daula, the Agra Fort and of course, the celebrated Taj.

I plan to write about my Agra visit in a three part post - each post dedicated to one of the three monuments mentioned above. I know that reams and reams have been written about these already. But I hope that my take will be unique enough to make it an interesting read.

All photographs featured in the posts are taken from my camera - except perhaps for a few at the Taj. The camera battery had dwindled by then. I may have to borrow pictures from the net.

Hope you will like these posts....

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Holi Mess

Posted on Saturday, March 19, 2011 by Deepa

If you're a Holi lover, you're going to think I'm crazy. But the truth of the matter is that I do not really enjoy Holi.

Way back when I was child living in Kolkata I suppose I must have liked it. I remember preparing the night before - filling tubs with water balloons to chuck at hapless strangers from the safety of the terrace-and always missing! I remember trying to pitch a bucket of water at a 'dada' (generic name of any young-older guy) in the colony, him side stepping adroitly and somehow me getting drenched in the process.

Cut to a few years later, Hyderabad - me studying for my 8th std final exams. I had read somewhere that during exams you should do things to make you happy. So I wanted to wear the new cheese cotton (it was a type of fabric) top my mother had bought for me. It was so pretty, all white with colourful polka dots. I was sure my mood would be very good if I wore it. My mother warned me that it is Holi and wearing white clothes, especially new ones, is not advisable. I told her I wouldn't be stepping out of the house since I would be too busy studying. So there was nothing to worry about. I would regret those words.

About an hour later, the doorbell rang. I peered through the peep hole and saw a bunch of multi coloured colony kids standing outside.

"I've seen you! I'm not coming out". I yelled through the door.

"Please come out didi. We only want to rub some gulal (coloured powder)on your face. We promise - nothing more than that"

Naturally, they didn't mean a word of it. But I, poor sucker, believed them and stepped out. Only for a bucket full of black water to be upended over my head. The cheese cotton top never looked the same again.

A few years on, in college, it was even worse. A total free for all. The boys took full advantage of the opportunity, grabbing the girls and even going so far as to throw them into a mud pit that was created specially for Holi. I was horrified when I heard this. So when a guy friend came around to my hostel asking me to come out and play Holi, I told him off roundly.

As time went on, I became more and more convinced that Holi was really not my festival of choice. Quite the opposite actually. I read stories of how young women in Delhi were harassed in the name of festivities. I even saw a news feature where the female presenter covering Holi became the target of some water balloons.

So Happy Holi everyone. Its not such a big festival where I live these days. Even so, I think I'll just stay put at home and be smart about not answering the doorbell this time.

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The Mother Of All Languages

Posted on Wednesday, March 16, 2011 by Deepa

Some weeks ago, I saw a wall message on Facebook that had been 'liked' by a friend. The message urged readers to cite Sanskrit as 'mother tongue' during Census enumeration, adding that Sanskrit needed more patronage from Doordarshan, that it was the root of all Indian history and culture and there were many benefits of promoting Sanskrit.



I found several things wrong in this.

First, Sanskrit, even in its hey day, was the language and intellectual property of the elite aka the upper castes and out of reach to the lower castes. That is why the works of poets like Surdas and Kabir became so popular - since they were in local dialect that was spoken by and popular with the masses. Besides, going by the theory that Sanskrit was the language of the Aryans, it would greatly offend people in the south, who proudly proclaim their Dravidian heritage as being different from the Aryan.

Second was the assumption that 'Indian history and culture' was a monolith defined by Sanskrit. If there is one defining feature of Indian culture, it is its diversity - across region, religion, ethnicity and language. Every Indian knows that there is no ONE THING that you can pinpoint as Indian Culture. It is like the story of four blind men who touch different parts of an elephant - the tail, legs, ears and trunk - and describe the those parts as defining the whole elephant.

Practically speaking, what use is a language that nobody speaks in modern times? It is only confined to books and government sign boards - 'धूम्रपान निषेद ' or 'पए जल ' !! Nobody understands it nor pays attention to it. It is like a ceremonial uniform. To be taken out only on special occasions - like festivals and functions - looks great but hangs heavy on the person. And returned to the cupboard when the event is over.

I do not mean to demean Sanskrit. It is no doubt a great language. But to urge educated people to cite it as 'mother tongue' in census is outside of enough. 'Mother of all languages' is different from 'mother tongue'. As a nation, as a culture, we have far more pressing issues to attend to in the Census - issues of population growth, literacy, female sex ratio, working population - which are intrinsically linked to development and which we should be more concerned about.

Doordarshan is welcome to patronise Sanskrit all it wants. I can guarantee it would drive away the few eyeballs it manages to catch!! Who watches Doordarshan these days anyway?

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Its We Who Build Community

Posted on Wednesday, January 5, 2011 by Deepa

Have you seen the commercial for 'Community Matrimony' dot com thats being aired across the channels these days? Have a look:

It is wrong on so many levels!

Daughter is going around with a guy that sports long hair. And automatically that's the bad guy? Candidates for marriage - girl or boy - should adhere to certain stereotypes in order to make "good marriages". What about those that do not fit stereotypes? Do they have no chance at marriage without conforming?

Then the whole approach to marriage. The family shown in the commercial seems to be educated and upper middle class. And yet they depend upon the 'community temple' and 'community astrologer' to find a groom for their daughter. Six decades of independence and a decade into the 21st century and we still use mumbo jumbo to find life partners.

Then the most objectionable part of this commercial is the over emphasis on 'community'. It is just a euphemism for 'caste', the deep rooted malady we are yet to shake off. For the most part, people still do not marry across caste lines in India. Note the honour killings taking place in North India when couples dare to exercise their choice.

What does one do when the all knowing 'market' decides to turn a social evil into a business opportunity? Is regulation the answer? How does one address the social attitudes that have allowed space for such unbridled opportunism? We need to take a stand as a society or risk reversing the tiny steps we have taken towards progressive and liberal thinking.

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Heritage Walk: In The Presence Of The Apostle

Posted on Friday, September 10, 2010 by Deepa

The final leg of our journey was inside the Church of St Thomas. Although tiny in size, the church has a rich history.

The Church is associated with St. Thomas, one of the Apostles of Christ. The spread of Christianity in India can be traced back to the arrival of St. Thomas on the shores of Kerala. From here he traveled, preaching the message of Jesus before he reached Chennai. It is said that his evangelising angered the locals and he fled to the Mount to escape their wrath. Here he was martyred in AD 72 when he was struck down by an arrow.

The Portuguese built a shrine here in the 16th century at the spot where St. Thomas was martyred. During the course of excavation, a stone cross was unearthed. The cross was believed to have been chiseled by the apostle himself. It was rumoured that he had clutched the cross to his person when he was martyred and his blood spilled onto the cross. Apparently, the stains reappeared even after being rubbed off and even bled periodically. So it came to be known as The Bleeding Cross. This cross is now mounted on the wall of the shrine at the alter. Here is a picture:

It is interesting to note the details on this cross. If not for the cross, it could well have been a Hindu sculpture! Note the 'thorana' and the sort of lotus base on which the cross stands. What a wonderful amalgamation of cultures and religions!

The shrine is also dedicated to 'Our Lady of Expectation' ie, Mother Mary. Above the alter, there is an oil painting of The Madonna. Believed to have been painted by St. Luke and brought to India by St. Thomas, it is one of the oldest Christian paintings in India. Here is a picture:

There was another rather interesting rendition of Mother Mary as full term pregnant. I have never seen it before:

With that our heritage walk concluded and we descended the steps on the other side of the hill. At the last step, I turned back to get one last glimpse.

But before I sign off on this series, I must introduce some spiritual beings that I came across during the walk. This gentleman was enjoying the morning sun at the Garrison Church and was kind enough to hold his pose so I could click a picture:

And this guy is totally self actualised. Bordering nirvana!

Ha! Ha! You didn't think they would be canines now did you? I love dogs and the Lord God Made Them All!

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Heritage Walk: Ascent Up The Mount

Posted on Friday, September 3, 2010 by Deepa

Moving on from the Garrison Church, the group took a long and circuitous route to reach the top of St. Thomas Mount. The road went past the main gate of the Officers Training Academy and wound up the hill. Once we cleared the defense area, we moved to the base of the hill. I must say it was not very pleasant. Overgrown with shrubs and bushes on one side and slum like settlements on the other.

Once we started climbing the hill, our focus shifted to the awesome veiw of the city that lay stretched out before us. The road was smooth and there were wall writings on the hillside proclaiming it as a 'Holy Hill' and imploring the public to maintain its sanctity. One person even compared the climb up the Mount to the 'Girivalam' at Thiruvannamalai. (Girivalam is a spiritual festival observed on every full moon day at Tiruvannamalai, for the sacred Mountain Annamalai.In Tamil "Giri" means mountain and "Valam" means circumambulation and involves the actual circumambulation of devotees around the hill with a diameter of nearly 16km)

Half way up the hill we passed some schools run by the Catholic Church (which I presume owns a great chunk of the land on the Hill), and a park on the outer edge of the hill with a life size statue of Christ a la Christ the Redeemer of Rio. We also passed a training center belonging to the Church where we saw a banner of an Indo Sri Lankan seminar:

However did the Indo-Sri Lankan fishermen reach the Pak Bay (whatever THAT was?!). A spelling mistake can be truly hilarious.

Huffing, puffing and sweating profusely, we finally clambered up the hill to reach the sacred Shrine of St. Thomas. As Sunday services were still on, we had to wait to enter the Church. While waiting, we looked eastward, hoping to see the spire of the San Thome Church and the Little Mount Church. But it was cloudy and we were not able to do so. Here is a picture of the vista:


Set a little behind the Church, we came across an interesting bust of Lt. Colonel William Lambton. Lambton served in the British Army and was the superintendent of the Great Trignometrical Survey (GTS) during its initial years. So what is the significance of the GTS to the St. Thomas Mount? The Great Trigonometrical Survey of India started on 10th of April 1802 with the measurement of a base line near Madras. The spot where the bust is located marked the first station of the Survey.


Lambton carefully laid the baseline, which stretched across a distance of 12 kilometres between St. Thomas Mount and another hillock in the southern direction, for the "measurement of the length of a degree of latitude" along a longitude in the middle of peninsular India....This 12-km-long horizontal at about sea level grew into what is known as the Great Indian Arc of the Meridian, a gigantic geometric web of 'triangulations' roughly along the 78° longitude across the entire length of the subcontinent covering a distance of about 2,400 km in the north-south direction. As a corollary, at the end of this massive and perilous exercise, which consumed "more lives than in most contemporary wars" and involved tomes of calculations and equations more complex than any in the pre-computer age, it was conclusively proved in 1843 that the Himalayas constituted a mountain range that was higher than the Andes, until then believed to be the highest. It also established the height of the highest point on the earth, what is now called Mount Everest....The GTS continuous to be the bedrock of topographical surveys even today, 201 years after Lambton laid out his first baseline from St. Thomas Mount to another nearby hillock... (Source: Frontline, Apr. 27 - May 12, 2002 and June 21 - July 04, 2003)

When the volunteer from the walker's group stopped talking, there was a brief silence,marked by a sense of timelessness. I felt as if I was also a station, standing in the path of the Great Arc.

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Heritage Walk: The Garrison Church, Chennai

Posted on Sunday, August 29, 2010 by Deepa

This year, as part of the Madras Week celebrations, a series of Heritage Walks were organised all over the city. Organised by different individuals and organisations like INTACH, the walks covered some interesting routes like 'Heritage Walk of Madras Christian College', 'Railway Buildings of Perambur', 'Fort St. George', 'Temples of Madras'. The spouse and I went for the Heritage Walk at St. Thomas Mount on 22nd Aug - considered as the day when Madras was founded.

For those of you who do not know, St. Thomas Mount in Chennai, is a small hill near the Chennai airport. It derives its name from St. Thomas, the apostle of Christ, who is believed to have been martyred here. Organised by Vincent D'Souza and Richard O'Connor, the heritage walk started at the St. Thomas Garrison Church and ended at the historic St. Thomas Mount Church on top of the hill.

To be honest, my going for this heritage walk was a matter of chance. When the spouse first mentioned it, I did not pay attention. When he mentioned it again on Friday night, it finally registered. Seeing a golden blog opportunity, I jumped at it. When I sat down to write it though, I realised that just one post would not suffice. There was so much to write that I decided to write it as a series of posts. The first one is about the Garrison Church.

6AM on Sunday saw a bleary eyed me and spouse at the gates of the Garrison Church. We were the first to arrive and were apprehensive that the walk had been canceled due to rains the night before. A while later people started arriving and we were set to go.

Our first stop was the Garrison Church itself. Situated just off the GST road on the way to the airport, this church is 175 years old. It being a Sunday, some of the regular church goers had arrived to offer prayers and were kind enough to share the history of the church. In fact, one of the ladies present had done her M.Phil thesis on the Garrison Church. What a stroke of luck!

Till the 70s, the church had a three storey spire. It had to be lowered to make way for the air corridor due to the construction of the Meenambakkam airport. Here is a picture of the church:



Inside the church, there were many interesting artifacts. Three of these caught my attention. The first was this memorial tablet:

This was put up in memory of one Lt. Charles Wade Crump who died in September 1857, aged 32, fighting under General Havelock at the 'Relief of Lucknow'. It was put up by his 'Brother Officers' to salute his bravery. Very nice and noble indeed. But I'm sure you will understand that my sympathies are for the Indian side in the war.

The second was a painting over the alter. Of Doubting Thomas. You might have used the term many times to express disbelief. It has its origins in a Biblical anecdote, that Thomas, one of the disciples of Christ, refused to believe in Christ's resurrection and asked to feel his wounds before being convinced. St. Thomas being the patron saint of the Garrison Church, it was but natural to have this painting hanging over the alter. Here is the only photograph I took of it:

The last was the Baptismal Font. A baptismal font is an object that is used in the baptism ritual. Unfortunately I did not pay attention when its unique features were explained (probably busy capturing other Kodak moments!). I tried to supplement the gap with some net research. Unfortunately I could only find information about the Baptismal Font at St. Mary's Church in Fort. St. George. Here is a picture of the Baptismal Font at Garrison Church

A bit of trivia before I sign off on this one. The rolling greens beside the Garrison Church serves as a golf course today. We were told that it used to be a polo ground during British times and the place that is now the Chennai airport was the erstwhile golf course.

Seeing planes taking off and landing from the airport runway, it was difficult to imagine it as an idyllic setting where the sahibs and memsahibs whiled away their leisure time.....

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