The challenge for Manjhi was formidable — a 300-feet-high hill stood between his village and development. With no faith in the government, he chose to go it alone. He sold his goats to buy chisel, hammer and rope. Hammered constantly at the rock-face for 22 years, to create a 16-feet-wide passage. 

Gahlor Ghati (Gaya): Over four decades ago, a frail, landless farmer got hold of a chisel and a hammer and decided to change the face of his village nestled in the rocky hills of Gaya. Dashrath Manjhi tore open a 300-feet-high hill to create a one-km passage. 

    Manjhi knew it would he easier to move a mountain than an apathetic government. He knew writing to the powers-that-be would only leave the hill tied in red tape. Instead, Manjhi, then in his early 20s, took up a chisel and hammered at the rocks for 22 years. 

    This feat, part of local folklore now, stemmed from Manjhi’s love for his wife. For, when she slipped off the rocks while getting food for him as he worked in a field beyond the hill and broke her ankle, it became a burning passion to tame the formidable hills that virtually cut his village off from civilisation. 

    And he completed the Herculean task — creating a short-cut which reduced a long and arduous journey from his village Gahlor Ghati to Wazirganj to a walkable distance. 

    Manjhi hasn’t forgotten the public ridicule when he began hammering at the hill. “They called me a pagal but that steeled my resolve,” he says. 

    Even his wife and parents were against this “adventure,” especially when he sold his goats to buy a chisel, a hammer and rope. But, by then, Manjhi was a man possessed. He shifted his hut close to the hill so he could work all day and night, chipping away, little by little. “I did not even bother to eat,” he says. 

    With most of the cultivable land and shops across the hill, villagers had to cross it many times a day, braving dangers. 

    It was after 10 years that people began to notice a change in the shape of the hill. Instead of a defiant rockface, the hill seemed to have a depression in the middle. Climbing it became a little easier. “All those who had called me mad began to quietly watch me work. Some even chipped in,” he recollects. 

    In 1982, twenty-two years after he had started out, Manjhi walked through a clear flat passage — about 16-feet wide — to the other side of the hill. But his victory was tinged with sadness. His wife, who inspired him to take on this task, was not by his side. “She died of illness. We could not take her to a hospital on time,” says Manjhi. 

    But, the villagers were there. They got him sweets, fruits and all that they could afford. Says Ram Avatar Yadav of Bhitra village: “We grew up hearing stories of the man who wants to move a mountain. Today, it’s a reality and a boon for me.” 

    But, his family members are sore. “He hasn’t done anything for us. We are still struggling to make ends meet,” says his daughter Laongi Devi. But, Manjhi wouldn’t agree. “My hard work should benefit thousands,” he says. 

    This hand-carved passage through the hill remains the only sustainable change the village has ever chanced upon. Tubewells were installed, but they ran dry. Electric poles were put up, but the cables never came. And a five-acre plot given by former CM Lalu Prasad to Manjhi for a hospital still lies barren. 

    Septuagenarian Manjhi hasn’t given up. “I met CM Nitish Kumar recently. He has promised to develop the passage so that even a car can pass and will connect my village to Gaya. And, he told me that I will lay the foundation stone,” he says. 

In the past half century, India has made rapid strides in economic development. This, coupled with demographic pressures, a gigantic middle-class known to be the largest market in the world, and the free entry of global players into the Indian consumer market have changed the consumer scene completely. A new consumer culture of disposability, over-consumption, and wanton disregard for the environment has become the norm in the Indian society. 

Rapid and unplanned urbanization has created an enormous population of urban poor. This group consists of unskilled laborers that have been pressured out of their traditional habitats by environmental, social and economic changes. Their traditional lifestyles evolved out of responsible use of natural resources and, as a result, sustainable practices have been in circulation for centuries. Their lifestyles, though dependent on the environment, never sought to damage or deplete it in any far-reaching way. Mutual nurturing was the subtext of this human/nature relationship. 

The culture that emerged from this dual dependence is under severe stress in a new urban milieu that is a poor copy of the Northern pattern of living. The present Indian urban scenario seeks to replicate lifestyles alien to its context, without necessary infrastructural support. As a result, all service sectors in Indian cities are under tremendous stress. While the markets overflow with glitzy new products, and advertisers have a field day selling incongruous cultural icons and lifestyles to Indian consumers, the Indian consumer culture is rapidly undergoing behavioral shifts that adversely impact the environment. 

Middle class Indian homes have become gadget junkyards. Cars sales in Indian cities are on the upward swing, but there are no roads to run these cars on. Fuel prices keep spiralling, as does the resultant pollution from these consumption patterns. While Northern cultures embrace organic food and alternative healing, Indians satiate themselves with colas and burgers; while the U.S. scrambles to patent India’s biodiversity, Indians are glued to their TV sets. Sitting in Delhi, with telephones that don’t work, PCs on the blink because of erratic power supplies, postal strikes and polluted rivers, activists in consumer and environmental organizations have their task cut out for them. 

THE NEW-AGE REALITY

It is not just the quantity of consumption and spending that has undergone a change but also the attitude of consumers towards consumption and the reasons to consume. Advertising strategies have effectively influenced consumers to accept products without questioning their use or viability. Health scares, safety, and beauty-consciousness are just some of the tactics used to encourage sales. From tap water to bottled mineral water, from herbal options to international cosmetics brands, and from clay pots and cups to plastics, the change has been far too obvious to ignore. 

In 1998, a dropsy epidemic gripped the Indian capital. Over 2000 people were affected and 41 deaths were reported. The consumption of common mustard oil was held responsible and overnight the much-used traditional oil was put out of use. Mustard oil is used for cooking purposes, skin care, in local crafts, as a preservative, as a fuel, and for therapy. Mustard is grown all over North India and many individual homes in rural areas extract mustard oil on their own and remain self-sufficient all year round. But all of this changed after the dropsy epidemic. Mustard oil was poured down the drain (ending up in rivers, polluting them with a virtual ‘oil slick’) and replaced by the market alternative — packaged edible oils. These oils are subject to little quality control and the consumer has no way of determining what’s in them. And yet, they are readily accepted as being safe and of superior quality due to clever advertising. 

The Indian cosmetic scene is also very active, thanks to the presence of brands like Revlon, Avon and Lakme, all jostling for attention on Indian market shelves and television. The cosmetic sector in India is now undoubtedly on a new plane, with slick advertising and the creation of new paradigms of beauty and celebration. Herbal remedies that were part of every Indian household have also acquired commercial overtones. Herbal medicines and beauty products are some of the most expensive brands in India and abroad today. 

CAN DEVELOPMENT AND TRADITION EXIST TOGETHER?

With globalization sweeping across the developing world, it is unlikely that there will be a turn around in the current trend of growing market influence. What, then, we need to focus on is making consumption and production patterns as sustainable as possible without sacrificing the present lifestyle or comforts. The Indian urban middle-class will have more and more disposable income in the future and it will be hard to put a cap on consumption. 

Assimilation and acceptance have been integral features of India’s development. Its cultural bonds are so strong that it is able to accommodate change with certain modifications to suit its needs. It is this resilience and flexibility that is needed today to control and redress environment degradation and social upheaval. Consumers need to hark back to traditional knowledge and absorb its good practices into their urban lives. 

by Dr. Roopa Vajpeyi 

(Roopa Vajpeyi teaches in the Department of English at the University of Delhi. She holds a Ph.D. in American Poetry. She travels, speaks, writes, publishes and conducts training workshops for teachers, students and grassroots women on a variety of topics. She also works for the United Nations High Commission for Refugees in India.)

The broad agreed aim of the owners was to “live close to the land in an ethical and sustainable manner”

 
Van vasis: Guests prepare and savour food grown organically at Van Vadi. 

Surekha Kadapa-Bose

Van Vadi is a vast expanse of near-untouched forestland that allows people from all over the world to touch base with nature. Once the boundary fence is crossed, there are only foot tracks to lead you through the 64 acres of woodland.

“We were initially looking to buy about 10-15 acres for organic farming, mainly fruit and vegetables. This was to be divided among 3-4 of us. But with more ‘likeminded’ people joining, I began dreaming of an ‘alternative community’ of sorts… that would meet its varied needs in harmony with nature and fellow humans,” explains Bharat Mansata, one of the nearly 17-18 co-owners of this forest abode.

 
The pond used for bathing 

The likeminded group of friends includes lawyers, educationists, writers and architects among others.

Located on the foothills of the Sahayadri range of mountains in Maharashtra, Van Vadi is about 1.5 km from Vaara village, Raigad. State buses ply to the village from Neral, about 15 km away on the Mumbai-Pune route, but are not frequent.

Auto-rickshaws charge about Rs 12-50 to take you to the Vaara bus-stand and another Rs 25-30 to drop you at the gates of Van Vadi.

But the ‘road’ from the bus stand to the Vadi gate is not recommended for those with back problems.

On the other hand, it is great fun walking along the narrow lanes lined on both sides by small houses. Women busy with their household chores glance up briefly to catch a glimpse of the city folk heading this way for a slice of their everyday life.

Far, far from the urban 

Entering through the small, creaky gate of Van Vadi, the deafening silence — interspersed by only the sound of chirping birds, fluttering butterflies, rustling leaves — and the sight of an endless expanse of trees can disconcert any urbanite used only to the 24×7 cacophony of city noise.

The broad agreed aim of the owners was to “live close to the land in an ethical and sustainable manner to benefit ourselves, the land and, perhaps, the local people as well”. Progressive self-reliance in basics such as food remains an important goal even today.

The food cooked on site uses completely organic ingredients; white sugar isn’t used at all. Gur(jaggery) is used as sweetener even in the preparation of herbal tea.

Initially about 24 people had pooled money to buy the land from the previous owners about a decade ago. Later, some of them gave up their ownership of the land as they found it difficult to travel all the way from Mumbai and other places.

Tending to the land 

 
Bharat and Vinita Mansata, co-owners of Van Vadi, with their tribal help Bua. 

“We agreed that at least half the land should remain under tree cover; agrochemicals prohibited; water usage conservative; extensive monocultures shunned and biodiversity aided through integration of various edible and locally useful species, particularly indigenous varieties suited to existing conditions,” says Bharat.

With help from local tribals, over 115 endemic and traditionally useful species were identified on the land. Even the animal kingdom is well represented.

Earlier, the place was famous for leopard hunting, but the big cats don’t come here any more. Besides a range of earthworms, ants, snakes and crabs, the woods are alive with several kinds of spiders, colourful butterflies, dragonflies, fireflies, bees, and birds.

The area receives copious rainfall each year but most of the water tended to drain away in the absence of reservoirs. To remedy this, two check dams were built a few years ago.

An open well was dug near the main (seasonal) stream, and today even the adivasis in neighbouring areas draw water from this during summer.

Sharing the bounty 

Within time the land began yielding a bounty and the group decided to share it with others in the form of a ‘Vanutsav’. The first Vanutsav was held in October 2005 with the theme of ‘Sharing Creativity, Celebrating Community’. It attracted over 60 people, including nearly 15 children.

In 2006, the Vanutsav was hosted by Sadhana Forest, Auroville, in Puducherri down south and attracted over a hundred participants. In October 2007, the Vanutsav returned to Van Vadi in the form of a ‘mini Van-Shram-Utsav’, integrating community labour as well.

The recently held Vanutsav attracted nearly 60 participants from places such as Kolkata, Delhi, Chennai, Goa, Sri Lanka, Australia and, of course, Mumbai.

A day in the forest 

And what was it like for the visitors? To begin with, there are no toilets or bathrooms and nature’s calls have to be answered in the open, under the cover of trees and bushes. For bathing, there are two sweet water pools — one slightly deeper than the other. The soft, dark mud of the pool is used as soap.

As for food, there is a community kitchen built using mud and thatch; firewood is used for cooking in a mud choolah (stove). The vegetables come from the forestland and visitors bring in rice, dal,gur, poha and other condiments. Fruits such as banana and muskmelon make up the dessert.

For entertainment, visitors came equipped with several musical instruments such as sarangi, Australian aboriginal blowpipes and flutes. There is lots of reading sessions and discussions too. And, of course, one can always walk around and discover new trees, insects, streams, pathways and other delights of the forest.

To top it all, the place even has a small waterfall! There is no fee charged but visitors can contribute towards the upkeep of the adivasi family of three that helps take care of the huge place.

Bua, the head of this family, has learnt Hindi and can understand even a bit of English. His teenaged son loves to explore the forest, find new ways to protect it, and spread the word among the other adivasis on the importance of holding on to their land and way of life.

Visitors’ notes 

Sujata Guha, a geneticist who had come to Van Vadi along with her professor husband and three young children, said, “This is one way of sustaining wildlife. And contrary to the belief that present-day kids can’t live without TV, mobile phones etc, my kids enjoy this kind of living with nature.”

Tilu, a 14-year-old boy from Goa, loves to catch snakes. “Last year I had caught a 10-ft long snake. This year there haven’t been any such long snakes,” he said. He catches them only if they come anywhere near the human dwelling and leaves them deeper in the forest.

Vinita Mansata, who looks after her family’s publishing house in Kolkata, told us about an elderly guest from Mumbai who was traumatised by current events like bomb blasts and other violence in the country. “After two days, he told me that he had never slept so peacefully in years without taking any medicines. That is the kind of tranquillity nature gives to people,” she said.

Trouble in paradise 

But even this tiny oasis of peace is facing problems… in the form of builder groups from various cities. “We are struggling against tough odds to protect the local ecosystem, with our own land threatened by ‘modern development’ (on two sides) by city builders… they have caused heart-wrenching ecological destruction in neighbouring land by totally denuding it of all vegetation; uprooting and turning the soil,” says Bharat Mansata agitatedly.

He hopes that more people will join the community and the place will attract more visitors in the days to come. He also hopes to convince the villagers about the need to resist the influence of land sharks.

“Visitors at Van Vadi can, in turn, make a difference by trying to conserve forestland wherever they live. This would be a small way to ensure the survival of our planet,” he signs off.

A lengthening list of US, European and Asian corporate executives agree. Senior staff of companies including Microsoft, Citibank, IBM, Merrill Lynch and Zee TV experience Vipassana as a powerful human-resources tool. Special Vipassana courses are being organized worldwide for business executives and government administrators.

Vipassana means “to see things as they really are” in the ancient Indian Pali language. A practical, universal tool to purify the mind, some call Vipassana a technology for inner peace. Others describe it is a deep surgical operation of the mind. An objective study of mind-matter interaction, Vipassana has nothing to do with any religion, cult, dogma or blind belief. Vipassana enhances the overall quality of life, as I have discovered from practicing it for more than 10 years. 

Vipassana is taught in residential courses – from the beginners’ 10-day regimen to 45-day and 60-day courses for advanced students. Completing a course demands discipline, will power and following such rules as not communicating with fellow students and the outside world for the duration of the course. The rule of silence until the penultimate day of the course is to calm and quiet the chattering mind and turn attention inward. 

Happily, continuing a millennium-old tradition, no fee is charged for Vipassana courses, not even for board and lodging. Expenses are met solely through voluntary donations and services of previous students. Vegetarian buffets and simple, comfortable accommodation are provided in centers that are usually green, eco-friendly expanses. 

The technique was practiced back in the mists of time before being rediscovered by Gautama Buddha, who practiced it to reach enlightenment. Vipassana then disappeared again, and was lost to India 500 years after his passing. But a chain of teachers in Burma preserved the technique in its purity for 2,500 years. 

This volition to share merit earned helps to reduce the ego, the apparent “I” that the Vipassana student experiences as merely a mass of constantly changing mind-matter phenomena. Experiencing that impermanent nature of reality within changes one’s outlook to life and fellow beings. Wisdom and compassion rise to the surface. 

Sylvia Clute, a former attorney-general candidate in Virginia, described how Vipassana helps her combat stress: “I am not attached to the actions of others, so I don’t create conflict by responding negatively.” 

Besides realizing its potential to reduce conflict and enhance teamwork, corporate leaders experience how Vipassana increases efficiency, patience and self-dependency and progressively eliminates such negativities as anger, jealousy, and depression. 

Certainly, it takes work. Changing habits is tough and takes time. Besides an annual retreat, Vipassana students are required to practice at home twice daily for an hour each. But those benefiting realize the commitment as an investment paying dividends for a lifetime. Veteran Indian industrialist Arun Toshniwal says: “After practicing Vipassana for over 25 years, I find that my capacity for work and clarity of thinking [have] increased. I gain time. Our staff attends Vipassana courses with paid leave.” 

Toshniwal is also an authorized Vipassana teacher, one among more than 600 trained assistants appointed to conduct courses voluntarily on behalf of Satya Narayan Goenka, 78, and his wife Ilaichidevi Goenka, Vipassana’s principal teachers. 

“Goenkaji”, as Mr Goenka is known outside India, is a retired business tycoon from Myanmar who settled in Mumbai with a large, happy joint family. “Having been in the rat race of making money from a young age, I know full well how much tension and misery a business person goes through,” he says. “Vipassana helps gain the mental wealth without which the material wealth becomes meaningless.” 

Goenkaji was authorized to teach Vipassana in 1969 by his teacher, Sayagyi U Ba Khin, independent Burma’s first accountant general. “The time clock of Vipassana has struck,” U Ba Khin declared when Goenkaji started teaching Vipassana in India, the land of its origin. U Ba Khin conducted Vipassana courses in his office premises to remove corruption in the Burmese government. 

U Ba Khin professed an ancient prophecy that Vipassana would return to India and from there spread throughout the world. Indeed, either with or without the prophecy, Vipassana has spread rapidly since 1969, mostly by word of mouth, in cultures as diverse as Britain, Russia, Japan, Mongolia, Brazil, Iran, Thailand, China and Scandinavia. In India, the central government and some provincial governments offer paid leave for their staffs to learn the discipline. Courses are organized for prison inmates, students of technological powerhouses, and scientists at the Bhaba Atomic Research Center, a nerve center of India’s nuclear program. Leading business schools such as Symbiosis send entire batches of management trainees for Vipassana courses. 

Goenkaji conducted the first executive course in the United States in April 2002 in Massachusetts as part of a grueling 24,000-kilometer road odyssey across North America in which he conducted courses and addressed the public, the media and the United Nations as well as leading institutions such as the Smithsonian Institution and Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

“The moment a defilement arises in the mind, misery too instantly arises. When one starts experiencing this reality within oneself through Vipassana, a change automatically starts coming for the better,” Goenkaji says. He was a keynote speaker at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, in January 2000. 

Organizations such as Spirit in Business, which invited Goenkaji to address a seminar during his North American tour, wants to enhance management principles. Founded in Amsterdam and with bases in the US, Spirit in Business (SiB) forged an alliance of companies such as American Express, Verizon and Forbes, senior corporate leaders from Videophone, Goldman Sachs, HP, universities such as Case Western Reserve’s Weatherhead School of Management and the Copenhagen Business School, and thought leaders such as Peter Senge, Daniel Goldman, David Cooperrider and the Dalai Lama. Its aim is to “explore, promote and celebrate the reconnection of ethics, values and spirit in business leadership”. 

“Vipassana is an art of living through continuous self-improvement,” says Rahul Vaid, a partner in Pacesetter Capital. “It has helped me immensely in adverse conditions, in being tolerant to others and taking positive action as opposed to blind reaction.” 

Nancy Stevens, a leading investment adviser and a former vice president of Wells Fargo, says Vipassana helped calm her in the face of client anxiety and market conditions. “The most important thing that I took away from the course was surrendering to the process and letting it unfold – contrary to my business training of being in ‘attack mode’.” 

Stevens’ realization highlights conventional business strategies turning to pragmatic wisdom: the obvious need to develop and harness the power of a balanced mind. 

by Raja M (an independent writer and Vipassana practitioner based in Mumbai.)

Yet in just 13 years, Nollywood has grown from nothing into a $250 million dollar-a-year industry that employs thousands of people. The Nollywood phenomenon was made possible by two main ingredients: Nigerian entrepreneurship and digital technology.

In the late 1980′s and early 1990′s, Lagos and other African cities faced growing epidemics of crime and insecurity. Movie theaters closed as people became reluctant to be out on the streets after dark. Videos for home viewing imported from the West and India were only mildly popular. Nigerians saw an opportunity to fill the void with products of their own.

Experts credit the birth of Nollywood to a businessman who needed to unload thousands of blank tapes and to the 1992 video release of Living in Bondage, a movie with a tale of the occult that was an instant and huge-selling success. It wasn’t long before other would-be producers jumped on the bandwagon.

Currently, some 300 producers churn out movies at an astonishing rate—somewhere between 500 and 1,000 a year. Nigerian directors adopt new technologies as soon as they become affordable. Bulky videotape cameras gave way to their digital descendents, which are now being replaced by HD cameras. Editing, music, and other post-production work is done with common computer-based systems. The films go straight to DVD and VCD disks.

Thirty new titles are delivered to Nigerian shops and market stalls every week, where an average film sells 50,000 copies. A hit may sell several hundred thousand. Disks sell for two dollars each, making them affordable for most Nigerians and providing astounding returns for the producers.

Not much else about Nollywood would make Hollywood envious. Shooting is inevitably delayed by obstacles unimaginable in California. Lagos, home to 15 million people (expected to be 24 million by 2010), is a nightmare of snarled traffic, pollution, decaying infrastructure, and frequent power outages.

Star actors, often working on several films at once, frequently don’t show up when they’re supposed to. Location shooting is often delayed by local thugs, or “touts”, who extort money for protection before they will allow filming to take place in their territories.

Yet Nollywood producers are undeterred. They know they have struck a lucrative and long-neglected market – movies that offer audiences characters they can identify with in stories that relate to their everyday lives. Western action-adventures and Bollywood musicals provide little that is relevant to life in African slums and remote villages.

Nollywood stars are native Nigerians. Nollywood settings are familiar. Nollywood plots depict situations that people understand and confront daily; romance, comedy, the occult, crooked cops, prostitution, and HIV/AIDS.

“We are telling our own stories in our own way,” director Bond Emeruwa says. “That is the appeal both for the filmmakers and for the audience.”

The appeal stretches far beyond Nigeria. Nollywood films are proving popular all over English-speaking Africa and have become a staple on M-NET, the South African based satellite television network. Nigerian stars have become household names from Ghana to Zambia and beyond. The last few years have seen the growing popularity of Nollywood films among African diaspora in both Europe and America.

“Look out, Hollywood,” one exuberant Nigerian producer exclaims. “Here we come!”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinema_of_Nigeria

http://www.thisisnollywood.com/

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With the industry growing at an average rate of 25 per cent per annum, the lavishness doled out by Indians on weddings is just getting larger this season as exhibitors and even designers from Pakistan entering the market to target the customers who have begun shopping for the post October marriage season.
   
“The weddings grow larger only. The latest trend is now to fly out the ‘barat’ comprising 250-350 people to Kaula Lampur or Singapore to have the wedding there,” says Tarun Sarda, CEO, Vintage Group, Vivaha Interactive, the organizers of Vivaha exhibitions.

Citing seven such weddings which have taken place in foreign locations such as Sunway Lagoon and the Palace of the Golden Horses in Malayasia recently, he adds, “Everyone is trying to out do each other. With the property and stock boom, India has seen new generation of millionaires coming up and the lavishness that they indulge in weddings are just mind-blowing.”

Gone are the days when great weddings were the ones to be held at some five star hotel with baratis trooping in fanning Rs 10 bundles, points out wedding organisers and industry experts.

“With increased money at their disposal and more awareness, people now don’t just want a five star wedding. The Mittals and Sahara’s along with the Chatwal weddings have changed the way, one would view a grand wedding,” says Saurabh Sen Gupta, Head, event management, Kimaya which organizes individual events like ladies sangeet with Bollywood singers performing and bachelor parties along with theme parties for the marriages.

“The pandlas are more like film sets now. Theme parties are what really excites everyone. With fashion designers like JJ Valya and Ritu Kumar focusing on marraige trousseau more, one cannot even imagine how much can one spend on even individual ceremonies. Moreover, with even some Bollywood set designers stepping in to design marriage pandals, the grand Indian wedding is just getting bigger,” he adds.
    
Industry experts now point out that a good wedding now takes place for around a crore and a half, even though the average wedding expenditure for a middle class family comes to about Rs 15 lakhs without the jewelery.

Recently, the The Delhi Gurdwara Management Committee, the citys top Sikh body, had told the capitals nearly one million Sikhs to boycott weddings that are not teetotaler, vegetarian and over by noon to cut down the cost involved in the usual lavish sikh weddings. While similar measures are being considered in other Indian cities, wedding planners and wedding exhibition organisers point out that such a directive will not in anyway stop the grandness of weddings.

“Look around, young Indians know that marriage is usually a one time opportunity and hence, want to have a great wedding if not a lavish one. Its more like to each its own. The notice put up up the Gurdwara committee will not have much impact on wedding expenditure,” says Kiran Sharma, Director, ITE Group which organised the just concluded Bride and Groom 2007, exhibition in the capital.

It is not just an industry which caters to the tentwallas or the flower shops or the catering firms but even high-end car lending companies to who’s who of the Indian film industry and even the new age photograph firms who easily charge upto Rs 2-3 laks for a wedding album.

“People have money and now want to tell others that they have it. The increasing trend is to have a bollywood star. So,  its not surprising that many leading Bollywood stars are more than eager to dance to the occassion but at a good price,” says Vijay Arora, Director, Touchwood Entertainment which specialises in organising entertainment for such marraiges and adding that the firm has seen a growth rate of 350 per cent in the last two to three years.
    
He adds, “An average evening with a reality show star along with a dance troupe would cost Rs 3 lakh and above while if you want to bring in big names of Indian cinema, then the rates can touch the sky.”

Orgainsers point out that Indian weddings are the most expensive and lavish in the world.

“India is happening and Indians are willing to pay for the expertise to send a style statement through an event like a wedding. A wedding for an Indian is probably the biggest and most serious event in his or her lifetime,” says Bini Kohli, of Pace Weddings, a wedding organising firm in the capital.

Wedding have now become specialised with even some foreign universities offering diploma in bridal consultancy among others.

“The industry is now slowly getting organised with the roles played by wedding planners, exhibition firms providing everything from make up to jwellery under one roof and with other big players now stepping into,” says Urvashi Sharma, a wedding planner based in Gurgaon.
    
“Soon there would be more Mittals and Chatwal style marriages which continued for 10 days among lavish settings happening in India. The best is yet to come,” she adds.

From DNAindia

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A BIG fat Indian wedding. That’s what most of us have, full of noise, loads of food and gifts, gold and silk-draped aunts, rituals and ceremonies, priests, havans andhomas, screaming kids, music, and nosy relatives who maliciously eye even the straw offered with the mandatory cool drink.

The bottomline of the wedding — a question of izzat andmaana-maryadé.

But organising a decent wedding here is tougher than the blessed state of matrimony the couple is stepping into. Starting with the selection of the wedding card, trousseau, venue, bookings, transport, confirmation, menu, gifts, guest list, orchestra, arranging for the relatives’ stay… the “to do” list is staggering.

The oft-quoted Kannada proverb, “Mané katti nodu, maduvé maadi nodu“, throws the glove of challenge in your face and hints at the impending torture — try building a house or organising a wedding…

Professional touch

No wonder such rigours of organising and planning weddings have engendered a new breed of wedding planners and organisers in the city. Dream weddings, theme weddings — they do them all. With tie-ups and contracts with wholesalers and service providers, these wedding planners give that professional “management touch” to your wedding and save you the hassle of running around and worrying. Instead, all you do is, even as you spend time with guests and relatives, worry about the money…

J Lo in The Wedding Planner and Vijay Raaza as Dubey in Monsoon Wedding may have brought romance of wedding planners alive on-screen. And the hype around the Mittal and Sahara family weddings where crores were spent only added mirch to the masala of weddings.

Have money, will spend is the motto here. Ahem… and we’re told it’s a good way to launder that black money. An unforgettable wedding as far as exotica goes in Bangalore, insist those in the know, was the one in a Sindhi business family a few years ago. The wedding eve was a riot in a five-star hotel where the bride was dressed as a queen seated on a golden throne, with hersakhis fanning her even as the male guests — complete with jasmine garlands twisted around their forearms — ogled the belly dancers. The bride’s mother, clad in a sari of sheer gold, hired young college girls to welcome guests Mughal style, applying attar on their hands.

Bangalore is only now and slowly warming up to the idea of big-time spending and lavish glamour weddings at the Palace Grounds and in five-star hotels. South Indians, who have hitherto preferred traditional and austere weddings, are also going in for a makeover. So you have North Indian customs like mehendi ceremony and sangeet in South Indian wedding, giving wedding organisers much more to do.

In-house planners

Ironically, every Indian family has always had in-house wedding planners — aunts and uncles and grandmas who’ve married off enough people to know what it takes to make a wedding go off without a hitch. So most families would still sniff at the idea of hiring some “outsider” to get involved in something so personal. But in an age of nuclear families which find little time to do the endless running around, wedding planners are the professionals who come to their rescue.

Says Srikant Kanoi of Nupur Dreamz that’s been organising weddings in Bangalore for the last five years: “I’ve done weddings for people from all walks of life. But right now it’s young IT couples who come to us to organise weddings. Most of them are from nuclear families that find it difficult organising everything. A number of people who have newly settled in the city also hire wedding planners.”

Cautious Bangaloreans

Bangaloreans on an average are willing to spend up to Rs. 5 lakh on a wedding bash while in places like Delhi, people are likely to splurge Rs. 3 lakh on floral décor alone! The services Srikant offers range from organising the priest and the havan kund, to chartering transport and decorating the nuptial bed! “We take care of everything from A to Z,” he says. The company has franchises in Coimbatore and Chennai too.

Fashion guru Prasad Bidappa is all the rage when it comes to putting together exotic weddings. Prasad, who does around 15 weddings a year, mostly of NRIs and large local weddings that need a lot of co-ordination, is right now working on a wedding that will happen in Dubai. “NRIs mostly want super-traditional weddings. Most of them flock to Bangalore — the most happening wedding destination. They value the Indian culture more than we do sometimes. The locals usually want something westernised, maybe a nightclub event for the engagement.” Fashioning designer clothing for the bride and groom starts six months in advance. One wedding he did had a Vedic theme — so Vedic chants and classical music dominated the ceremonies. The groom was escorted by Kalari dancers holding an umbrella over his head. Among the rich and famous Prasad has planned for is a wedding of the royal family of Nepal.

Women too

A number of women have stepped into the business. Neetha Yashwanth who runs Chhavi Wedding Consultants, started off organising a cousin’s wedding. “After I get an enquiry, I have a first meeting with the client, find out their requirements and introduce the service providers like florists, and caterers to clients who then meet them,” she explains. Bangalore being a cosmopolitan city, Neetha says she is geared to handle any kind of wedding — North Indian, South Indian, Christian. “I do a lot of the running around. Right now I’m helping a client find a good tailor for her wedding gown.” Colour theme weddings are very much in, she says.

The number of guests, the kind of decoration asked for, the menu, and the frills decide the cost of the wedding.

Most planners can organise weddings to suit the client’s pocket — from Rs. 50,000 to Rs. 5 lakh. Organisations like Shaadiwala, a new venture, have a range of services including designer-packaged sweets, booking flight and railway tickets for guests, arranging their accommodation and the like. “We even organise sight-seeing in and around the city for them, special family portraits, gifts for guests and relatives and so on,” says Akash Gupta, a DJ-turned-event manager-turned-wedding planner.

Theme weddings

Bangalore doesn’t go in for too many of the hatke or exotic weddings, says Srikanth. Egyptian, Japanese, and vine-and-root (!) are some of the popular theme weddings he’s done. Designer garlands made of rose petals, tissue and cloth that match with the bride’sghagra, having rose petals showered on the couple, a firecracker finale — any of these could be part of dream weddings.

Avani Shah’s Dreamz Come Tru does everything from the invitation to booking the honeymoon package for the newlyweds. “Even where we don’t know the customs of the community, we have no problems; because we interact with them closely and become a part of the family.”

Days or months

Avani can plan a wedding in three days flat or take eight months labouring over details. Works happens faster when she brings a few invitation cards catering to help the client make the choice rather than have the family trudge to a store and take time to select from a mind-boggling collection.

Clearly, it’s a profitable business, despite the considerable discounts offered by wedding planners.

As for the clients, it all boils down to a status-enhancing social statement to have a well-organised wedding where the guest leaves with a smile.

by Bhumika k in The Hindu

Hollywood and Bollywood rarely meet. But in the new film “Slumdog Millionaire,” the two international epicenters of filmmaking find an unusually fruitful cinematic union.

Bhutan puts the happiness of its people before development.

Landlocked in the eastern Himalayas, the tiny country of Bhutan seems almost untouched by globalisation. Its icy peaks, deep green gorges, sparkling rivers and quaint buildings with multi-tiered sloping roofs strengthen the feeling of a country disconnected from the chaos of megacities and concrete jungles.

This pristine impression is partly due to Bhutan’s strong commitment to environmental preservation. Bhutan’s laws reserve 70 per cent of its land for ‘green’ cover, of which 60 per cent should be forests.

Bhutan is one of the few countries to employ the concept of gross national happiness — that social and economic development should promote happiness as its primary value.

Conservation of the environment and sustainable and equitable socioeconomic development are the two pillars of gross national happiness, which was declared more important than gross national product by Bhutan’s then king, Jigme Singye Wangchuk, in 1972.

But today, the country is facing change. Global warming is melting many of its glaciers, while its need for economic development and quest to export hydropower to neighbouring India may harm its fragile terrain. Bhutan is grappling with the dilemma of conservation versus development.

Development taking its toll

A growing population — up from 452,000 in 1984 to 750,000 in 2006 — as well as an increase in urbanisation and infrastructure is taking its toll on Bhutan’s environment.

Analysis by the National Environment Commission (NEC), an inter-ministerial body that develops policies on sustainable development, shows that about 25,000 acres of land have been used for development projects, while land and water pollution is an emerging environment problem in and around urban and industrial areas.

Development projects such as roads and power lines, NEC warns, could impact biodiversity by cutting through natural habitats and destablising fragile mountain slopes if they are not built in an environmentally sensitive manner.

Urban areas — along with some rural areas of southern and eastern Bhutan — are already witnessing localised deforestation, says the Bhutan office of the UN Development Programme (UNDP).

And a steady increase in vehicles — the number of cars rose by 11–17 per cent each year from 1985 to 2003 — is harming Bhutan’s air quality, once considered among the best in South Asia.

Bhutan’s development of hydropower plants could also impact the environment. Hydropower potential in Bhutan is estimated at over 30,000 megawatts, 16,000 megawatts of which could be provided safely by exploitable water resources like river run-offs. Only three per cent of this has been tapped, estimates the NEC, with domestic consumption in 2005 only 105 megawatts, and the country hopes to export some of this energy at a profit to neighbouring India.

Global warming at its door

Meanwhile, Bhutan is facing up to the impact of global warming. The country has a fragile mountain ecosystem, and climate change is a serious challenge to sustainable development and the livelihood of the Bhutanese people, says Nado Rinchen, deputy minister for environment.

Despite this, Bhutan’s glaciers have been retreating over the last few decades at about 20–30 metres every year due to global warming, creating many moraine dammed lakes — lakes clogged by accumulated debris, which prevent meltwater from escaping — that are swelling rapidly.

Floods of these lakes — glacial lake outburst floods — are a serious concern. Bhutan has already experienced several of these floods and has 24 potentially dangerous glacial lakes, according to ICIMOD (the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development) in Kathmandu, Nepal.

Bhutan’s National Adaptation Programme of Action, released in 2006, warns of changes in water flows, increased sedimentation of water reservoirs and networks, and reduced capacity of water catchment areas, all affecting hydropower electricity production.

Higher rainfall in areas without proper drainage systems can destabilise the soil, leading to landslides and more floods. Rinchen says Bhutan urgently needs to map its hazard zones as it is also prone to destructive landslides, mudslides and floods.

Bhutan has no proper weather or climate forecasting capabilities and its climate data and information is sparse, points out Doley Tshering, program officer for energy, environment and disaster, at UNDP’s Bhutan office.

Conservation at stake

NEC officials fear that climate change and the consequent rise in temperature and forest fires, along with changing rainfall patterns, could affect the country’s extensive forest cover, rich biodiversity and clean water resources.

Bhutan’s biodiversity is one of the richest in the world. It ranks among the top ten countries with the highest number of species per unit area, contains three of the World Wildlife Fund’s ecoregions of great biological wealth, and many of its plants have medicinal value.

Unsurprisingly, conservation is central to Bhutan’s 1998 National Environment Strategy, which aims to balance economic development and environmental conservation. 

The core of Bhutan’s conservation strategy is a system of national parks and protected areas that form 26 per cent of its land. An additional nine per cent is designated as ‘biological corridors’ or ‘wildlife highways’ that link protected areas to allow free movement of animals.

Yet much of Bhutan’s biological wealth remains unexplored by scientists. There is no baseline data to help scientists document and monitor changes in vegetation, wildlife and forests.

Some efforts have been initiated, with NEC due to sign an agreement with the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) this year to set up the Bhutan Integrated Biodiversity Information System to gather, interpret and document biodiversity information from both protected and other areas.

Putting the environment into development

Rinchen says Bhutan’s tenth national five-year plan, to be launched in 2008, will allocate ten per cent of all funds to programmes for environment activities, while the UNDP and UNEP are helping NEC to develop guidelines for incorporating environment into development plans and policies.

A National Environment Protection Act (NEPA), approved by Bhutan’s national assembly in June 2007, states the people and the government should “strive to consider and adopt its development policies and plans in harmony with the various environment principles”.

The act states that to promote environment-friendly technologies, codes of practice and eco-labelling, the government will provide financial incentives for environment protection and compliance.

These will include tax incentives for environmental services, manufacture of environment-friendly products and reduced customs duties on environmentally friendly technologies.

Bhutan also aims to reduce the dependency of national park residents on national park resources, such as firewood, timber, roofing material and other forest products.

It hopes to reduce deforestation through use of alternate technologies include the introduction of electric cookers to substitute traditional fuel wood cookers and using corrugated iron sheets instead of wooden shingles for roofs.

Instead, the government will establish programmes to improve mule tracks and foot bridges, build community centres, supply solar panels and even offer scholarships to poor students so that they do not rely on forest produce for their livelihoods. Community-based ecotourism is also being promoted as an alternative means of livelihood.

Transboundary conservation projects are helping Bhutan come out of its isolation. ICIMOD’s Kanchenjunga project, involving Bhutan, India and Nepal, is helping to identify corridors needed to maintain biodiversity links and promote conservation-linked micro-enterprises and ecotourism in the region.

Bhutan is at a crossroads today, charting a course for its future. For many developing countries, this isolated Himalayan country could be an example of how to reconcile conservation and national happiness within the global trading framework.

by T. V. Padma

If you search for the term on Google, the Internet throws up around 64,000 links. Out of these as many as 23,200 links are related to India in one way or another.

Citizens can harvest rain right in their own homes by making use of a dried up bore-well, a row of soak-pits or tanks hidden below the ground, or even a traditional well from which water is drawn. Open spaces, like rooftops and ground, can be used as the catchment surface – to catch the rain. Costs vary; but rainwater harvesting does not require major construction work.

The New Delhi based Centre for Science and Environment (CSE) has worked on this for many years. “Our ancestors harvested rain just as naturally as they tilled the ground to grow crops,” CSE says. “We lost touch with these local solutions. But now, as the taps dry up, more and more people are reviving this age-old system and practicing it very successfully.”

In a country like India, where life is dependent on rainfall in large parts of the country, a lot of work is being done to raise public awareness of rainwater harvesting. Centers have been set up in places like Meerut and Chennai, formerly known as Madras.

Marches have been held around dry desert regions like Jodhpur to promote awareness of the importance of water. Pioneers who protected traditional water harvesting systems have been given recognition and respect. Seminars have been held on rainwater harvesting. Rainwater harvesting is also studied in urban housing apartments. rainwater harvesting traditions from diverse parts of the country are studied and appreciated.

New tools are being used to augment ancient skills. The Internet is proving to be a great place to spread and build awareness over rainwater harvesting.

People can go to www.rainwaterharvesting.org and calculate the “runoff” for specific localities in India – the water they could save if rainwater harvesting was in place.

India, like other countries in the Third World, is facing a serious water crisis. In Delhi, the groundwater level has fallen as much as 32 feet in the last decade. In North Gujarat, it has gone down down 1,500 feet; in Saurashtra western India it is 500 feet.

Six of India’s federal states face severe drought. Even Cherrapunji – the spot in northeastern India, once called the wettest place in the world – with its annual 12,000 millimeters of rain – faces an acute water problem in summer.

The Malnad areas in South India with 3,000 mm have started experiencing drinking water problems. A study by the Sri Lanka based International Water Management Institute (IWMI) states that South India will be among the worst hit areas for water shortage by 2025.

Water-starved Chennai city is one of India’s four metropolitan areas. The city’s recent building boom, together with a growing dependence on the centralized water supply system and poor rainfall, has lead to repeated drinking water crises. In the past, the city depended on groundwater for much of its needs. Overexploitation has ruined much of groundwater resources. But now, this is one area where rainwater harvesting is catching on.

Another damaging factor has been the increasing demand for land. Innumerable water bodies have been filled to construct multi-story structures. Over a 1,000 ponds have vanished in the Meerut district alone.

The problem of fluoride, nitrite and salinity are off-shoots of acute groundwater depletion. Private tankers that carry and sell water to those who can pay the price, are making a roaring business. Now, it is not important as to how much rain a particular area gets; what is important is what arrangements it has to catch the rain.

Rainwater harvesting needs people’s participation. It cannot be built on the basis of taking huge loans from institutions like the World Bank, or the Asian Development Bank.

In June 2002, a prestigious Rain Centre was opened on the initiative of local rainwater harvesting activists and the Centre for Science and Environment to implement the idea in that New Delhi, which perennially suffers from water shortages.

Padmanabhanagar, a colony with 64 houses, saw some 55 houses equipped with rainwater harvesting in just three months.

In Chennai, Dr. Sekhar Raghavan has made a case for supporting some 100 charitable institutions – like orphanages and old age homes – with rainwater harvesting strategies. This would ensure they don’t suffer from acute water shortages for five months out of a year.

Dr. Raghavan says, “I’ve depended on groundwater all my life and I wanted to devote the rest of my life to sustain the source via rainwater harvesting. This project gives me a chance to help the economically weak sustain theirs.”

Roofs are the biggest catchment opportunity for a city dweller, and roof-water harvesting can be deployed in urban areas.

A rural farmer has many other areas where he can harvest water. He can even afford to ignore the roof-water. But in smaller rural towns, houses or poor people’s colonies, roofs are major sources for harvesting.

In villages, large numbers of people have joined hands to build such systems.

In cities, rainwater harvesting takes other forms.

A skilled mason or a plumber could do the job for a household within 10 days. “It’s simple, but you still need someone who has experience in the principles of rainwater harvesting,” cautions the Centre for Science and Environment.

Rainwater harvesting benefits both you and your neighbors, since groundwater moves. To get the best results, it makes sense if all neighbours become rainwater harvesters.

Rainwater harvesting also requires that the water is kept pure, and not contaminated with sewage or other dirt flowing into recharge-pits. Water from the rooftops is considered to be the cleanest. Filters help keep out some dirt.

Rain can be harvested for storage in containers either above or below the ground, or for re-charging groundwater levels. Rainwater can be harvested from rooftops, paved or unpaved areas, open fields, parks, storm-water drains, roads and pavements, or from water bodies such as tanks, lakes and ponds.

Convincing people to go in for rainwater harvesting is not always easy. This solution is also beyond the reach of the urban poor. So a lot more remains to be done; above all, awareness building. If people knew that there was such a simple solution, many more might have implemented it.

On the success of such ventures depends some part of the future of countries like India.

From the farm to the pen. That’s the story of Shree Padre. He calls himself a farmer by profession, and journalist by obsession. He has authored five books on the subject of rainwater harvesting. Most are in the regional language of Kannada, while one is in English, “Rainwater Harvesting,” Altermedia, Kerala, 2002.

For the last six years, Padre has been collecting success stories and information on rainwater harvesting from around the world. “Rainwater harvesting now is knocking out so much of my creative time that my farming gets a blow,” he half-complains.

Before that, he worked to set up “Adike Patrike,” a popular farm magazine that he edited for 12 years. This means Padre has become a pioneer in coastal South India for spreading farm-journalism, or farmer-to-farmer communication.

His slogan is “pen to the farmers.” Through many workshops, his team has helped farmers to write for their fellow-farmers.

Padre has been instrumental in showing ordinary men a simple way by which they can increase their water supply. Using this information, hundreds of farmers in six districts of South India have been harvesting the rain.

Padre has built up a collection of slides and photographs, and has put up some 200 slideshows on rainwater harvesting, mainly for farmers and students.

He has done studies on surangas, man-made caves for water, a unique traditional water harvesting system of Kasaragod in South India’s Kerala state. He has studied madakas, traditional percolation ponds, of coastal Karnataka and Kasaragod, which have by now almost vanished.

He emphasizes in-situ, low-cost methods of harvesting rain that can be implemented even without subsidies and external help. For example, in an urban house, if there is a dug well, the groundwater can be re-charged using the service well. Or even a dry, abandoned well,” he says.

Over the years, Padre says has been able to use his communication skills in fighting the aerial spraying of endosulfan pesticides that foul water supplies.

“Farmers, city-dwellers and people from all walks of life have been experiencing worsening water shortages year after year,” says Padre. “We, at the farm magazine ‘Adike Patrike,’ put the subject of rainwater harvesting on top priority in 1995.”

From September 1996, they started a feature series in the subject. “Once we got in touch with the nongovernment sector, the small groups and messiahs of rainwater harvesting, we were lucky to gather a mountain of information,” says Padre.

He believes in catering to the “information-needy.” He points to experiments from across India undertaken by “rainwater harvesting achievers” like Shyamjibhai Antala and Rajender Singh from remote North India.

Rainwater harvesting is possible in most areas. “The principle is the same everywhere,” says Padre. “But the methodology has to be applied to studying local geographical situations, soil type, rainfall, slope of land and many other aspects.”

One of the best sites explaining what rainwater harvesting is all about is located at: http://www.rainwater-harvesting.org