Unconventional Life

End of the road

2010-01-04T09:23:00.000-08:00

Hi all,

Thanks to everyone for following me on this blog for the last 3 years. I have now moved onto my my own domain. And I am continuing to blog and host my portfolio there. Thanks a lot for all the support all along while I maintained this photo blog and chronicled my life in it. The end of the road is only for this blog... but unconventional life continues by Nishant Ratnakar at a new address www.nishantratnakar.com

Thanks to one and all,

Nishant Ratnakar

Photographer

www.nishantratnakar.com

A landmark moment for the happy and gay

2009-07-03T01:11:00.000-07:00

The Indian mainstream media was busy preparing lead stories, that were to be made for July 4th, the American Independence day. So was the entertainment industry occupied with planning for parties, events, campaigns, promotions, sales, and all that is 'page3' for the same reason: Celebrating freedom!

But, all that changed with a landmark judgment by the Delhi High Court... July 2nd 2009, will go down in the pages of Indian legal history. 'July 2nd' will mean much more to Indian sexual minorities than what 'July 4th' means to Indian media.

Provisions under the Section 377 of Indian Penal Code criminalized consensual homosexual acts of adults in private. The Delhi High Court struck down this controversial section saying it violated the fundamental rights of life, liberty and equality.

Gay rights activists, lawyers and the sexual minority community across Indian sub-continent held celebrations to mark this occasion. In Bangalore, the celebrations were held at United Theological College. Here, I share with you all, the moments from that event I was witness to. A piece of history I must say.

By the way, to all my American friends... Happy Independence day:-). To all the partying crowd in my city, enjoy the Indian cocktails on Saturday night;-). But, do spare a thought for the sexual minority community who have been fighting a long battle for equality.

Cheers,
Nishant
P:S For rest of the other photographs, please visit the set on flickr, http://www.flickr.com/photos/travelling_writer/sets/72157620753060559/

Notes From the Field : Chikungunya

2009-05-13T12:25:00.000-07:00

Notes From the Field

- Nishant Ratnakar

Date: Monday, 11th May, 2009.

Place: D J Halli near Bangalore.

At a locality known as Moulana Compound:

"Have any health officials visited your locality since the outbreak?"

"No Sir. You are the first outsider to have stepped in here since we noticed the disease in our Compound"

That was the reply given to me by a resident of Moulana Compound at D J halli, Bangalore. Residents of this locality that houses around 60 to 70 families, say that at least one person in every house here shows symptoms of Chikungunya disease. "My four children also have developed Chikungunya" , says Waheeda who herself is recovering from Chikungunya. The families here live in typical matchbox like houses with most of them dependent on daily wages. Salaam, an auto driver, has not been able to earn his livelihood for over 8 days since he was affected by the disease. Most people including Salaam in entire D J Halli seem to be complaining about severe joint pains and high fever. Their mobility is restricted due to the joint pains.

Across DJ Halli:

"Any idea how Chikungunya spreads?"

"Sir, I think it spreads through air. See, it quickly spreads among relatives in the house and neighbors."

"Sir, there has been mixing of sewage and drinking water since longtime in our area. People are getting infected by drinking this contaminated water. Look, the color of water in this tumbler is almost grey."

"We don't know."

"I don't know."

"I saw on TV about disease spreading through pork in America. But we don't eat that meat."

It was a pity to know that most people on the streets of D J Halli have no clue about Chikungunya. The carrier of the virus that causes this disease is a mosquito. Very few people I met at DJ Halli actually were aware about it. As I walked along the main roads and gullies around DJ Halli looking for people showing symptoms of Chikungunya, I could spot stagnant water pools - the breeding ground for mosquitoes - almost everywhere. Nothing seems to have been done with regards to creating awareness about civic issue in these areas. The authorities have denied (at least when I was covering the story) the outbreak of Chikungunya in DJ Halli and have blame private doctors for creating what they termed as 'exaggerated news' about outbreak. The truth can only be revealed by time. But, if not Chikungunya, there is something spreading here. Everyone is showing same symptoms : High fever and severe joint pains.

At a local hospital near D J Halli:

A woman was being administered IV fluids. Her doctor says, "The blood tests revealed that her platelet count was low. This confirmed an infection and symptoms are of Chikungunya. the actual confirmatory tests of Chikungunya costs around 1500 rupees in any of the city labs. But, most people arriving here including this patient are not in a position to spend so much. Hence, based on the symptoms, the doctors start the treatment. The cost of medicine for the entire duration of treatment is also slightly expensive. Also, Chikungunya patient needs to rest a lot for speedy recovery. But some of the patients here are breadwinners of the family and are daily wage workers. So you can understand the situation I hope?"

I guess 'Right to good health' isn't covered under any of the fundamental rights provided by Indian constitution. But, don't the Directive principles of the State say that state should work towards reducing economic inequality as well as inequalities in status and opportunities. Sixty plus years since India became a free nation. how much have we achieved in reducing inequalities in access to health care? Do our political parties have this as a priority or even have a reference to this in their respective election manifestos?

Caught Between Colored lines

2009-02-24T04:29:00.001-08:00

A man sleeps between two colored lines marked by authorities inside a temple complex at Bhavaninagar, for acquisition of property for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Bangalore, the silicon city of India is witnessing many infrastructural works like new airport, metro railway system, flyovers, underpass and road widening, with the idea to sustain the growth and development of the city. But for all these projects it has to acquire private lands of citizens. This has resulted in stand off between the state and citizens and the pattern seems to be replicating across the country with creation of special economic zones (SEZ).

Seen here are photographs showing th result of acquisition of portion of houses and temples at Bhavaninagar, Bangalore to widen roads and build an underpass. The work came to a temporary halt with residents protesting while a temple portion was brought down by the auhtorities. In these scenarios, authorities usually come to homes and shops without issuing any notice and draw colored lines marking the portion of the house that will be acquired. Sometimes multiple lines get drawn due to unprofessional surveys. Residents who are caught unaware have no say in the amount of compensation, if at all any, given by the state and have limited time to relocate and rehabilitate.

Right to property was originally a fundamental right as per Indian constitution. But the 44th amendment to Indian Constitution in the year 1978 relegated it to a mere legal right. This put any dispute arising between state and citizens with respect to the acquisition of private property by state, out of the jurisdiction of any courts. This allowed the state to acquire any land for any purpose without compensation. As a result, in today’s India there is no real right to private property and no protection against government land acquisitions.

Portion of the ring road near a traffic signal at Bhavaninagar that has now been dug up to create an underpass and requires further widening of road.

Portion of a temple that remains at Bhavaninagar after it was demolished by authorities for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

A man walks looking at what is left of a temple that was demolished at Bhavaninagar by authorities for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

A man stops and looks at what is left of a temple that was demolished at Bhavaninagar by authorities for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Colored lines marked by authorities inside a store at Bhavaninagar, for acquisition of property for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Colored lines marked by authorities on the walls of house that was still under construction at Bhavaninagar, for acquisition of property for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Colored lines marked by authorities on the passage walls leading into a house at Bhavaninagar, for acquisition of property for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Paintings of Hindu gods left behind by a business house at Bhavaninagar after the premises vacated in a hurry due to portion of the shop getting acquired by state for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Children look inside an empty store at Bhavaninagar that formerly housed a rice trading business. The premises was vacated in a hurry due to portion of the shop getting acquired by the state for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Colored lines marked by authorities on walls of the houses in a bylane at Bhavaninagar, for acquisition of property for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

An old lady stands next to the wall of a Anganwadi - a government sponsored child care and mother care centre - at Bhavaninagar, that is dotted with colored lines marked by authorities for acquisition of property for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Colored line marked by authorities on the wall of a small store at Bhavaninagar, for acquisition of property for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

Colored line marked by authorities over window of a house at Bhavaninagar, for acquisition of property for building of Kaderenahalli underpass.

A modern Skyscraper apartment in distance contrasting with a garbage filled dugup ring road at Bhavaninagar speaks about the state of infrastructural projects in the city and rest of the country. Bad project planning and management is coupled with the clashes between citizens and the state over acquisition of property for public purpose.

Vatal Does another one

2009-02-12T08:02:00.001-08:00

Everybody in Karnataka seems to be cashing in on Valentine's day and moral policing issue. How can you leave Mr Vatal Nagaraj behind? The man who has ridden over a bull, a cycle, and even attempting to dirty governor house walls:D.

Here he was with his latest antic. His act did surprise most of us today. Usually known for publicity stunts supporting hardliner thoughts. Today he was taking a dig at the latest entry into moral policing camp, Mr Pramod Muthalika and his band of Shree Rama Sene.

Background to the below set of photographs... Muthalik camp had threatened young lovers that if they were spotted on the streets on valentines day, then they would forcibly be married off.

Thursday, 12th February 2009: Politician Vatal Nagaraj conducted a mock wedding of two donkeys namely Rati and Manmata at the Legislature House premises. The wedding took a dig on Pramod Muthalik and Rama Sene stand on opposing Valentines day and their threat of forcibly marrying off unmarried couples spotted on Valentines day. Vatal said that young couples should feel safe in Bangalore on Valentines day.

The Doc of small things

2009-02-03T23:10:00.001-08:00

The doc of small things

Originally uploaded by travelling writer

My photos for Malvika Tegta's article on Dr G Venkatesh, a man whose passion lies is in robotics....... taking robotics to all age groups...

published in DNA, Bangalore edition. 25th Jnauary 2009, page 14.

People in News - Part 1

2008-10-26T05:25:00.000-07:00

For me, 2007 had been a year of learning the nuances of press photography. One of the things with working in a daily newspaper is getting the images of people making the news, especially at the moment they make news!

And if the story revolves around global terrorism, then you can expect a horde of journalists there. This was during July 2007 and I was then working at Bangalore Mirror. A terrorist attack had taken place at Glasgow airport, with the alleged bomber being dead, his brother and cousin who were continents apart were suspects now. Doctor Haneef, the cousin of the 'Glasgow Bomber' was detained in Australia. Firdous, the wife of Dr. Haneef and their newly born child were in Bangalore city. Also in the city were Haneef's mother and brother. And that led to world media's attention to Bangalore city for nearly a month. Haneef's mother and brother were not interacting with the media. It was his wife who became a regular spokesperson during the entire ordeal.

Most of us spent those months camping on the street where Firdous lived. Every time a development took place in Haneef's case in Australia, Firdous was immediately asked to give a response to the media. This led to a series of impromptu press conferences arranged at the gate of her parental bungalow in Bangalore.

All the newspapers, TV channels and news agencies needed the visuals of this family. They were after all 'the people in news' then. One had to literally fight with one another to get a suitable vantage point to capture the visuals. I sometimes took up a sniper like position to experiment and get a different image, rather than a monotonous close-up portrait. But, you can't have this luxury all the time:-)

Fast forward to 29th July 2007

All charges against Dr Haneef were dropped and he was returning home a free man. There were media persons everywhere. At airports, in the same aircraft as his, on the roads, outside his in-laws' home and, also inside their home. I was one among the countless photographers stationed inside their home trying to document in images the frenzied moments. The truth was that media persons outnumbered the relatives inside the house:-). Here are a series of news photographs made by me (we were there till 2 a.m in the morning) as and when he arrived home that late evening.

Seen in this photograph is Firdous Arshiya, wife of Dr Haneef dressed up to welcome her husband. Dr Mohammed Haneef after being freed from all charges related to Glasgow Terror blasts was returning from Australia with his cousin Imran and was to arrive at his Father-in-Law's home at BTM Layout in Bangalore late night on Sunday, 29th July 2007.

Relatives of Doctor Haneef waiting on the terrace with rose petals to welcome him home.

Doctor Haneef stepping out of the car amidst media frenzy at his Father-in-law's home.

Doctor Haneef being welcomed with flowers amidst media frenzy, as he arrives at his Father-in-law's home.

Doctor Haneef managing to step inside his Father-in-law's home amidst scenes of media frenzy.

Doctor Haneef being escorted inside by his cousin Imran.

Relatives of Doctor Haneef are excited to get a first glimpse of him after his return to India.

Doctor Haneef smiles and waves for the media cameras for the first time after his arrival at his in-laws' residence.

Doctor Haneef and his relatives having a discussion while media persons wait for him speak.

Doctor Haneef reads out a written speech that was handed to him by his cousin, after which he was rushed to a room away from the media.

Irony with this assignment was that, my newspaper was a compact/tabloid. And the deadline for the pages to be sent for the printing press was 10:00 p.m. Doctor Haneef arrived well past 10.. So these images remain unpublished.....

To Amma

2008-07-22T01:56:00.000-07:00

Taarammaiyya, Thandu Thorammaiyya
Doorada Baanige yerida chandrana,
Taarammaiyya, Thandu Thorammaiyya

Nine of Amma's (my maternal grandmother was fondly called as Amma by everyone who knew her) children and few of her fortunate grandchildren (including me) have spent their cradle years listening to this Kannada lullaby every night before being rocked into a sound sleep.

Amma passed away last Sunday morning, after half a decade of battling the problems of aging. Amma was in her early nineties. Over the years, she had lost her memory, vision and strength, and had been confined to her bed and chair till her last day. Though our family has been bereaved of a loved one, it should be noted that Amma's sufferings have come to an end. She didn't deserve this phase in life where she had lost her independence and right to a life with dignity. My fond recollections of her, dates back to the time when I visited our village every year during the summer holidays. This was the time when there used to be plenty of cattle, hen, dogs and cats in our farm. Images of her walking in the farm with a fistful of grains and calling out to the hens and chickens, "Baa.. baa.." , never seem to fade from my memory.

When it comes to Amma and my photography, I think I was quite late in picking up my camera. By the time I began to indulge in photojournalism and documentary photography, Amma had passed her graceful years and had slipped in to a life in oblivion.

Couple of years back I visited Amma and Ajja's (grandpa) home with a SLR camera loaded with a black and white film. I was seeing Amma after a longtime and she had shrunk in size by then. With her memory caught in a time warp, she had lost touch with day-to-day happenings. Her eyes were giving away too. She could barely make out who or what was in front of her. Sometimes she used to speak about her father and her childhood home. And she had expressed her desire to meet her father, who was no-more. It was heartbreaking to see her in such a situation. But even in this condition, her motherly instincts were still strong. If she was eating something, say a banana, and if she could make out a figure moving around in the room, she would promptly offer a piece of whatever was on the plate to the person in the room.

Most of the times when left alone, she would get into a cycle of singing prayers. A prayer would be followed by her joining hands and bowing to the almighty. And this cycle would continue until somebody interrupted and diverted her attention. It was during one of those prayer sessions by the window, I stepped into the room with my camera. By then I had clicked portraits off Ajja and others in the house. But seeing Amma in the viewfinder, I somehow couldn't shoot her picture. The face of Amma one has in their minds is from her healthier and jovial days. I was stuck in a dilemma. I began to wonder if it would be rude of me to document her in this state. But, I had to have Amma's picture in my album. So, in that moment of dilemma I framed a silhouette of what Amma did the most in her later years...... pray. A prayer in her own world.

HERE IT’S 5 PUSH-UPS FOR EVERY 4

2008-07-12T09:07:00.000-07:00

At an ongoing inter-school cricket tournament, the boys of Bishop Cotton School embarked on a novel method to juice themselves up when playing against weak teams: A self-inflicted penalty for every boundary conceded.

Narcissistic and full of piss. That is what you normally associate cricketers with, even amateur or budding ones in this cricket-mad nation. But self-flagellation as a means to a sporting end? Well, the Bishop Cotton School’s boys seem to have just patented a new mantra or motivation. Of course, it was something to be seen to be believed.

An inter-school cricket match is in progress, and the batting team which is under pressure scores a rare boundary. This brings cheer in the dressing room of the batting team, and even as those on the benches indulge in high-fives and fist pumping, the fielding side enacts a different ritual: Excluding the bowler, the remaining ten of them lower themselves onto the turf and do a series of five push-ups. This they repeat each time they concede a boundary. Now, you must be wondering why the main culprit, the bowler, has been reprieved! Not really, for the best has been reserved for the last. For, at the end of the innings the poor fellow has to do it all cumulatively, five push-ups into the number of boundaries he has conceded.

STARTING FROM SCRATCH

Bishop Cotton comfortably won Wednesday’s game in the Boost Cup U-16 inter-school cricket tournament at the YMCA Grounds. Not that the result was ever in doubt. To the contrary, the whole push-up regimen they went through was because of the remorse they were feeling for having to play against teams much below their capability. They had in fact been relegated from the elite group of 16 city schools who would automatically qualify for the tournament’s second phase.

As this year’s Cottonian Shield winners and last year’s BTR Shield champions, the Bishop Cotton Boys High School cricket team has been in the elite stage of the Boost Cup (the tournament is played in two stages) for so many years. Last year, due to one freak defeat owing to a walk over - the match date clashed with their exams - they were relegated to the first round of the tournament. Hence, this year the team had to start their quest for the title from scratch, by playing against a series of teams which they believe are well below them.

MAKING AMENDS

Anil Dutt, the head of the sports department of the school believes that the team does not deserve to be playing in the first round. “Since the inception of the two stages of this tournament conducted by KSCA, our school has always been in the elite stage. But due to last year’s unfortunate forfeiture, we were relegated from the elite stage. I wanted them to play in a disciplined manner and keep up their morale when playing against lower-rung sides. I want them to believe that they are amongst the top four teams of the tournament. So, I told them that they must punish themselves every time the opposition scored a boundary,” he explained. But even he didn’t believe his boys would take his word literally.

MAKING SHORT WORK

On Wednesday morning, Anil ‘sir’ wished his team luck at the YMCA grounds before their match against BBUL Jain Vidyalaya and headed back to school. Samarth, the team captain, decided to enforce a penalty for his entire team including himself whenever their opponents scored a boundary. According to Samarth, “I told the boys that for the entire first round of this tournament, for every boundary scored by the opponents, irrespective of whose mistake it was, the entire team had to instantly perform five push-ups on the field. The bowler had to perform the push-ups after the over was completed or after match ended.”

In the event, they shot out the opposition for just 30 runs, a good ten runs more than they had intended to. But there was more to come. “We believed that we are too good for these teams. So we reversed our batting order. The tailenders went out as openers,” Samarth said. Some hubris that?

No matter, for the result said it all. The Cottonians went on to register a nine-wicket victory. Now, shouldn’t our, at times, over-glorified Men in Blue take a cue from these school boys?

Don't want to fade away like the Red Indians

2008-03-19T01:31:00.000-07:00

A Young Tibetan youth sporting a T-Shirt with picture of Ernesto Che Guevara and screaming Anti-China slogans. China, a communist country and Che, a legendary guerrilla hero whose beliefs lied in communism. A contradiction? Maybe not. Maybe it signifies the warning bells. A 49 year old movement is at cross roads when the baton is handed down to the third generation of refugees....

"We Don't want to fade away like the Red Indians", says 26 years old Tenzin Tsethar, an analyst at an Insurance firm in the city. Tsethar is a Tibetan who had joined his fellow countrymen (living as refugees across India), thousands in numbers, at a peace march which was arranged today from Chikkalalbagh to M G Statue to protest against the recent Chinese crackdown on Tibetans in Lhasa. 10th of March this year marked the 49th anniversary of Tibetan uprising against Chinese occupation. Pro Tibet demonstrations at Lhasa resulted in large scale violence with Chinese armed forces coming down heavily on the protesters. The continuing tension there has suddenly spurted a growth in Pro-Tibetan demonstrations across the world including Bangalore.

The protesters at Bangalore comprised of a mix of Tibetan refugees from all walks of life ranging from old monks from monasteries to youth growing up in city. Tsethar along with few other Tibetan colleagues joined in the entire day's demonstration in spite of not getting an official paid leave sanctioned. He says, "I am not bothered about my job being in jeopardy. I am more concerned about the lives of Tibetans in Lhasa which is in real jeopardy". His views are shared by Tenzin Pasang, a 21 year old woman living the BPO dream of Bangalore. Pasang says, "Since the moment we heard about the violence that broke out in Lhasa, we haven't had peace of mind. We live as refugees in India but we feel a sense of freedom here. But, our brothers and sisters back in Tibet enjoy no freedom. In every Tibetan house in India, you'll find two things in common. One, the Tibetan national flag and the other, a portrait of his Holiness Dalai Lama. You can't find the same thing back in Lhasa as Chinese army will arrest you if they come to know of it". Pasang has five other Tibetan colleagues at her BPO. They all work in the morning shift between 4:00 am and 1:00 p.m. Since March 10th, they have all actively been taking part during the evenings after work, in political activities leading to the peace march in the city. Being deprived of adequate rest is of no significance to them.

Its been 49 years since Tibetans having been living as refugees in settlements across India. Today, the Tibetan youth seem to be increasingly becoming restless with the status quo and lack of support received from governments across the world. 21 years old students Tenzin Chodar and Tenzin Dablo agree that views of the third generation Tibetans are radically turning to be different from their predecessors. Dablo says, "Goals of all Tibetans maybe the same but the methods are turning to be different. In this age of You Tube, your blood will naturally boil when you watch videos of Buddhist nuns being tortured by the army of communist China".

What about their Indian colleagues and classmates? Do they discuss politics and share views with them? When asked this question, Chodar says, "Yes, some of our Indian friends show interest while others are not interested. They support us, encourage us and do give us ideas to carry on with protest. But they are unable to join us in protests as they have their own preoccupations in life".

The difference in views of the Tibetan leadership and youth is clearly indicated when you see the banners and placards carried by protesters which read out 'Freedom and independence for Tibet', while the leadership has been talking of political autonomy for Tibet under Chinese rule. Tsethar says that, "We respect the views of his Holiness. But today patience is running out amongst us. Political autonomy will be great, if not freedom for Tibet as a country, at least the Tibetans should be given cultural freedom which is missing as of now". The decision of IOC (International Olympic Committee) to let China host the 2008 summer Olympics has not gone down well too. Pasang says, "How can China host Olympics when it is committing human rights abuse in Tibet. Something has to be done to oppose it. If we youth do not voice opinion against it. Then who else will do so?"

The Tibetan youth in today's world are at cross roads. They say they are witnessing what they term as 'double standards' when it comes to self determination for a nation. They look at issues related to East Timor, Afghanistan and Iraq and feel they have not enjoyed support from the world as China is a super power. There is a sense of disillusionment in their minds. Some of them seem to be giving up hope. 25 year old Tsering Dolkar is a Public Relations Officer with the Tibetan Women's Association. She says, "There is a difference in the way the Tibetan struggle for independence is looked at between the youth from settlement and those from cities. Generally, there is not much active involvement seen in today's youth from cities. There seems to be a denial. This probably is because the way the protests have been carried out over last 49 years (hunger strikes, peace march, candle light vigils) seem to less effective. Maybe, youth are losing hope due to this. There is a urgent need for change in the way we fight. But, the only way to change the system is by being part of it. That's why I am actively involved in politics. I want to try to bring about change. The youth must come forward with their ideas to keep the movement going on. The culture must not be lost. The original refugees in India were not educated. The next generation of Tibetans in exile had little education but did not have much opportunities. But now, the world seems to have opened up. Everyone wants to make use of the opportunities. You can't blame the youth for it. Everyone wants to lead a decent life. We can't apply for government jobs or buy property in India because we are having refugee status. That's why I see an increase in Tibetans who want to apply for Indian citizenship. The current situation at Lhasa has led to awakening amongst many Tibetans. The movement has gained momentum and people are coming forward and taking part now. The focus gained now, must not be lost. The United Nations must come forward to solve the issue".

There were few Indians taking part in the march. One of them on condition of anonymity said, "It is hurting to see that India and rest of the democratic world has not done much for the movement which is based on non-violence. I am afraid that at this rate there could be a day when the Tibetans may lose patience and the world may see armed groups of Tibetans. The world which has to take blame for it, if and when it happens". The anonymous prophecy's accuracy can only be confirmed by what lies ahead in future. But, the young generation of Tibetans are definitely seeking a change.

HER LONG DRIVE TO JUSTICE

2008-03-01T11:33:00.000-08:00

You never know what sexual harassment does to a woman, do you? It made Venkata Lakshmi turn to the law books, while driving an auto to feed her family.

“She didn’t charge me a rupee more than the auto meter,” said an incredulous young girl who travelled in an auto in the city recently. She? Yes, the woman in question drives an auto, struggling to make a living in a man’s world. The auto driver-bit is, however, just one part of Venkata Lakshmi’s story.

As the sole breadwinner for the family, she is also studying law. And that’s not because she wants to move onto a white collar job. After a lifetime of surmounting odds that would have felled a lesser woman, Lakshmi’s interest in law stems from the determination that others don’t encounter the travails she has.

NEVER SAY DIE

Lakshmi was an all-rounder at school. The youngest of three siblings, she was encouraged in all she did, especially by her uncle Paniyam Shankar Murthy. She passed SSLC with a first class. Lakshmi’s first choice of career was the Indian Police Service. She enrolled for 1st PUC at MES College and joined NCC too. On a morning jog, she saw a child about to be hit by a speeding bus. She flung herself on the road and in the nick of time, saved the child. A bravery award is proof of her act.

She had barely started her BA when her mother asked her to get married. Lakshmi, determined to continue her studies, moved to a government college with nominal fees. She taught private tuitions and sold vegetables grown in her backyard to support her education.

However, she subsequently had to discontinue. Not willing to go down without a fight, she enrolled herself as an external candidate in open university and worked in a SSI unit.

The turning point came when some anti-social elements tried to kidnap her over a small issue. She took the legal route to justice and became embroiled in a nine-year court battle.

Eventually, she dropped her studies and focused on her job and the case. She says she was repeatedly pressurised by police and politicians to give up the case and compromise with the culprits. She lost respect for the policing profession, which had captured her imagination once.

WEDDING BELLS

She finally agreed to get married to a man her mother had chosen for her. But after the wedding date was fixed, the dowry issue came up. The wedding was called off after all preparations. A family friend later introduced her to Rajendra, a welder who was then working in UAE. They got married.

Their daughter was born within the first year of marriage. With not enough income and job security from welding, Lakshmi’s husband bought an auto and started driving it. Lakshmi got a loan under Pradhanmantri Rozgar Yojana and started a canteen and catering business from home. With another loan, she built a floor above their house and leased it out.

MORE TROUBLE

But the repayment of loans soon became a burden and Lakshmi’s husband returned to Dubai. The auto was hired out to a driver. All was going well until her neighbour started harassing her. Her neighbour, Balaji Singh, wanted to have an affair. She flatly refused.

But he started pressuring her from various quarters. Her tenants moved out. The final blow was BESCOM shutting down her catering business as she had no commercial power supply at home. Exasperated, she got a driver’s license and started driving the auto. It’s been five years and it is now the only source of income for her family.

BACK TO COLLEGE

To escape her neighbour, she sold her house and moved to a rented place with her daughter. “If I had a good financial status and if I was a qualified professional like a doctor, advocate or engineer, then my family and I could lead a better life. With my arts background, I decided to pursue a degree in law. I approached the then principal of Babu Jagjeevan Ram Law College,” she explains.

She says she was initially apprehensive as she was already 31 years old. But looking at her educational background and her motivation, the principal and one of the lecturers, advocate Nagaraj, encouraged her to pursue her education there.

Everyday, she leaves home early in the morning, drops her daughter to school, and then ferries Bangaloreans till late morning and then goes to college. “I miss many classes. But the college administration has pardoned me. Friends help by sharing notes. I have completed four semesters with second class grades and without failing
in any subject so far,” she says.

Her lecturer Nagaraj says, “She has managed to pass in all subjects with good grades. She is motivated. The college is not in a position to give her a fee concession. If she is able to attend classes regularly, I am sure she can score better in exams.”

Meanwhile, her husband has returned to India. Welding has affected his sight and he can’t drive an auto. He says, “I am not educated and we have a daughter who goes to school. It will be better if at least one parent is educated. I am happy that my wife is studying law.”

Lakshmi has five more semesters to go. If the grit she has shown till now is any indication, expect her to don her robes in less than three years!

(Note: If you think you can help lakshmi in anyway, then please feel free to contact me)

IN SEARCH OF AN ALMOST-MYTH

2008-02-19T00:01:00.000-08:00

"We were told Ombattu Gudda didn’t exist. 28 kms and two days later, we live to tell the tale that it does."

"A piece of advice to future visitors to Ombattu Gudda: Don’t go to this place without a map and a compass if you want to return to civilization on Monday. Get map# 48 P/9/NW from Survey of India office in Bangalore. For happy hippies, this is paradise. You don’t need to work hard to get lost."

This is what you learn if you search for information on ‘Ombattu Gudda trek’ on independent trekkers’ blogs. Other blogs say ‘Villagers say Ombattu Gudda does not exist’ or many travelogues that end something like, ‘We finally failed to reach Ombattu Gudda’ or ‘We were chased by wild elephants and bears’.

These stories about Ombattu udda excited me and five of my techie friends to plan for a weekend trek to Ombattu Gudda. Armed with a GPS (Global Positioning System) device, a hand drawn map and our rations for the two-day trek we set off in conquest of Ombattu Gudda.

Ombattu Gudda in Kannada means nine hills. It is a hill range and the peak measures 971 metres above sea level. Located amidst the dense forests of the Western Ghats, it borders Hassan and Chikmagalur districts. It is named for the nine prominent humps on top, almost in a straight line.

The hill range is known for it’s wildlife, especially elephants and bears. The traditional entry point to this trek is Gundya town and the exit point is Hoskere village near Mudigere. The trek lived up to its reputation of being a tough and exhausting one.

THE JOURNEY...

An over-night bus journey from Bangalore got us to Sakleshpur in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

We, rather brilliantly, got off the bus at the Sakleshpur bus stand and not at the town where cabs to Gundya are available. This meant a two km trek back with our rucksacks along the highway —on a freezing morning. On reaching town, we stuffed ourselves into a Maruti Omni heading towards Gundya.

The road from Sakleshpur to Gundya — the infamous Shirdi Ghat highway — might as well be on the moon, if only for the craters! And the car we were in, hit a huge stone slab head-on but continued for two hours to Gundya. After a tea break around 6:15 am, we began our trek. The initial phase of the trek was easy with a clearly laid out path through the forest cutting across many small streams. Elephant dung dotted the entire path. We kept a lookout for the herd all set to sprint in the opposite direction. The path runs close to Kabbinale river.

The river bank called us to stop for some breakfast and rest. We did! Crossing the river was an adventure in itself. Pants folded, shoes catapulted to the opposite bank, we stumbled on slippery rocks to the other side. After few hours of trekking, the path got narrower and the forest grew denser. Worse, we were running out of water. So remember this when you head out. Only in the beginning of this route will you have plenty of water supply. The moment you cross the Kabbinale river, all that is left is the water you carry.

TECHNICAL ERROR

To make matters worse, our GPS device failed, thanks to the thick canopy of trees. We finally realised that we were lost! After long discussions, we decided to continue the trek to the summit. So we went ahead making our way through bamboo massacre sites, the work of wild elephants. Every now and then, fresh elephant dung got us on our toes, as did the venomous viper that hissed past us. We pushed ourselves on.

On reaching a small clearing, we stopped for a quick lunch and some rest. We pondered over the map cluelessly and got some help from the GPS occassionally. Soon, we reached a point with a 70 degree climb ahead of us. We made our way through slippery rocks and stones. Overhanging vines tripped us and thorny bushes scratched us, It was exhausting, but we continued to cramble up.

We had to make it to the grasslands on Ombattu Gudda before sunset as spending a night in the thicket would have been very dangerous. We took regular breaks to rest our bodies, which were on verge of dehydration due to limited water supply. After hours of climbing uphill, we finally saw the grasslands of Ombattu Gudda. We had trekked nearly 15 kms in a single day.

We had a pleasant surprise awaiting us. No, there was no resort with soft beds, water and hot food. But our cell phones worked! So we called up home to let our families know we were alive. We spent the night on the grasslands just below the peak.

After an early dinner, we lined up our sleeping bags and slept under a clear, starry night sky. We identified a couple of constellations and said a prayer to keep us safe from wild animals and then, we were fast asleep.

FINALLY...

The next morning, we trekked over the nine humps for three kilometres, and made it to the peak of Ombattu Gudda. It was a moment of accomplishment for the six of us. We had joined the exclusive club of successful Ombattu Gudda trekkers.

Then we headed down. Making our way through 400 metres of thicket till we saw the jeep tracks. Ah! Signs of civilisation! Five kilometres along the jeep track took us to the heart of Lakshmi Saraswati Estate.

If you get lucky, you might get to meet the owner who might help you get a jeep ride to Hoskere. With our luck, he wasn’t there. That meant another five kilometres to Hoskere village. At Hoskere, we hired a jeep to the town of Mudigere, where we got a bus to Bangalore. Two days and 28 km later, we were back home — bruised, tired and tanned! Happy to have conquered the mythical hill.

From Uzbekistan with love

2008-02-09T05:50:00.000-08:00

All credits to the Bangalore's infamous rush hour traffic jam, I reached Palace grounds an hour later than the scheduled time I was to meet the 'Russian artists', who are in the city as part of the travelling Jumbo Circus troupe. My worst fears were true; most of the artists who were initially waiting for me, had left the camp and were to arrive later. That left me with two artists, Alem jaan and Gul Sanam. Both, Alem and Gul were in India for the first time and they knew very few words in English and Hindi. And I could speak only one foreign language, English. What followed for the next hour can be best described as three people lost in translation and making attempts to break barriers of language to communicate.

From the initial introduction, I realized that they were actually from Uzbekistan and not from Russia as mentioned earlier. Further, the other 'Russian' artists in the troupe were Uzbeks too. They were are all artists from the famous Tashkent Circus in Uzbekistan and were in India on a contract. It is due to Indian audience's continued romanticising of Russian artists since the days of Raj Kapoor's movie, 'Mera Naam Joker', that these artists are labelled as Russian artists by the Indian circuses for business reasons. These artists however no qualms about it as they share a common history with Russia. Uzbekistan and Russia were both part of USSR before its disintegration into separate independent nations.

Alem and Gul were preparing lunch for their mates when I sat about to interview them. They were preparing Chuchvara, which is flour dumplings stuffed with minced beef meat and is considered to be Uzbekistan's national dish. Gul Sanam is a 27 year old woman who has been in the circus field for the last seven years. She is in India accompanied by her 3 year old daughter, Zyara Baano. Gul along with Alem Jaan and two other Uzbek artists in the troupe are horse riding artists from Tashkent Circus. And the show of this quartet has become quite popular among circus goers in India.

There was a TV playing a Hindi movie in their kitchen. Probably, their learning of Hindi happens by watching television programes. Alem, is a 20 year old man who has been in the circus life for last two years. Prior to being a circus artist he used to be a shopkeeper in a market in Tashkent. It has been a quite switch of career for him from being a shopkeeper in an alley in Uzbekistan to a horse riding artist in India. My attempt at asking Alem if he was married, didn't give me the answer I was hoping for but instead it gave me an insight into the Uzbekistan's cuisine. The word 'Marriage' was unknown to Alem and the closest rhyming word to his ears was the Hindi word 'Mirchi' (Chilly). Alem told me that back in Uzbekistan, they prefer less spicy food and in India he is making attempts to get used to Chillies in everything that is served to him. But Gul understood what my question was, and we had a hearty laugh when she said that Alem was still a 'bachcha' or a kid to get married.

These artists were jovial people and seemed to love Indian culture a lot. A personality trait one would associate with a horse rider from a place like Uzbekistan would be that of a rough and tough warrior from one of the Russian folktales you would have heard off as bed time stories as a child. Alem was swinging to the tunes of a 'Jab we met' track which I was playing on my laptop. While little Zyara was glued to my laptop and camera, Gul told me that she has watched quite a bit of Hindi movies back home. She recollects having watched Shahruk Khan starrer 'Baazigar', and like many young Indian girls, she confessed that she was a fan of Bollywood heartthrob, Salmaan Khan. Learning of a foreign language and culture is a long process but slowly these people were blending among the locals. One of the local artists who passed by their tent greeted them by saying 'Hello' to which Gul replied in Indian word 'Namashkaar'.

Coming from a country where 88% of the people are followers of Islam like her, Gul is an example of how liberal the Uzbek society. Nobody questioned her when she chose a profession which is usually considered a man's domain. Even her husband, a horse rider like her, never opposed her decision to be a circus artist and never object her coming to India with their daughter. She indicates that if she ever leave circus she might want to take up a job as a driver or learn computers as she fascinated by cars and computers.

The game of trying to overcome language barriers would have continued for long but we were soon joined by 16 year Ubaidullah, the third member of the quartet who has been in India for a while and could converse in Hindi. Ubaid, as he is fondly referred to, was never interested in studies. He spent a major portion of childhood days playing football. Football is a popular sport in Uzbekistan along with 'Kurash', a wrestling like sport peculiar to this region. Uzbekistan has a strong national football team and Ubaid was no doubt in love with this game. When he was 10 years old, seeing his lack of interest in studies, his father who was a driver in Tashkent circus asked him if wanted to make a living with circus. He then decided to give it a try. On his first visit he instantly fell in love with the horses and since that day he has never looked back. His burning ambition is to be a master in horse riding someday. He told me that intends to go back to Tashkent soon and join the Tashkent Circus College to perfect his skills.

A college for circus! That was something never heard in India. Circus is a respected art in Russia and Uzbekistan. Tashkent and Moscow circuses are some of the most famous circuses of the region. Unlike India where circuses are travelling in nature, these circuses are permanently housed in a location with a with full-fledged infrastructure for artists and animals. The artists from Russia and the new central Asian countries are most sought after by the circuses across the world. And to live up to the legendary reputation, the governments in these countries have set up colleges to train the budding artists before sending them across the world as ambassadors of their art.

Both, Ubaid and Alem have hairdo in copper shade. When asked if it was their natural colour, Ubaid said that actual hair color was black but Indian circus goers associate copper color of hair with a 'Russian artist' and hence they have colored it with that shade. This generalization in the minds of the masses can again be attributed to the Hindi film, 'Mera Naam Joker'. It was surprising to hear that the movie was very popular in Uzbekistan. Ubaid said that, back home he has a video disc of this movie and he has watched it nearly a hundred times! Ubaid loves Raj Kapoor's role in the movie and tells that a popular belief in Uzbekistan which makes the movie popular, is that a lot of Uzbek actors have played minute roles in that movie.

Ubaid is very much like any India boy of his age. He loves computer games and gadgets. Seeing my laptop he was curious to know if there were any games in it. I more than happy to lend my laptop to him for a round of virtual pinball game while clicked photographs of him and his troupe. Ubaid loved performing in Kerala the whole of last year.He says he liked the places like Kannur,kollam and trivandrum. Last time he had purchased sarees for his mother. This time from Bangalore he plans to buy lot of gifts for his family back home. Mobile phone for his dad and an MP3 players for his brothers are top of his shopping list.

Ubaid shared his experience of training to be a horse rider. For a year his master would have a 'lonja' , a long rope whose end would be tied around his waist while the other end was in his master's hand. Ubaid used to ride the horse in circles while the lonja would ensure his safety from fatal falls. He remembers having fallen quite a few times but he was lucky enough to escape with few bruises. Alem and Gul too had similar experiences while they studied at Tashkent circus.

We were later joined by Sanjaar, the fourth member of the quartet of Uzbek horsemen and along with him was their group manager in India. People were referring to their manager as Bahadur and hence I mistook him to be a Nepali. He told me that his actual name was Eshmatov Bahodir Batirovich and people in India began calling him by his middle name which was rhyming with hindu name Bahadur. Hence for the last four years people in Indian circus scene know him as Bahadur. Bahodir is the only member of the team who can speak English. Bahodir's origins too is attributed to Tashkent circus where his uncle is a director. He initially had a office job in circus and after few years he was offered the job to be a group director for the troupe which was sent to India.

Bahodir gave an insight to how and why the artists from Uzbekistan come to India. He said, "Tashkent circus is owned by the government of Uzbekistan. The circus there does not run for huge collections by ticket sales. Its a permanent circus and circus is a revered art in Uzbek and Russian culture. The government gets invites from circuses outside their country for artists to perform in their locations. It is the government which takes the call and provides opportunities for artists from Tashkent circus to travel to outside circuses. The main reasons for artists to perform in foreign countries is not money as most people mistake it to be so. Its or the fame and experience that one gets to boast of. In our region a circus artist is respected for his experience in number of years of performances and also for the places he has travelled to. The preferred destination for artists is Japan and Monte Carlo. Then come India and China". He further adds, "Every artist from Uzbekistan will have to study through Tashkent Circus. They put in 2 to 4 years of training there and after which they get absorbed into Tashkent circus. In the circus they are put under care of mentors who observe their work and decide when they can start performing on their own. Tashkent and Moscow circuses can be called as factory circuses. They produce artists and also create new types of shows for the world circus".

According to Bahodir, the reason for popularity of horsemen from their region is because one of the founders of Tashkent Circus was a horseman. Also, the Almata horses from central asia are one of the most expensive and fast horses in the world. The almata horses could be priced anywhere close to 10,000 US dollars and are in demand worldwide. Hence, in demand are these brave horsemen who have experience of riding almata horses.

Bahodir, is married to a Lasso artist (another circus art) from Uzbekistan. His wife is a christian while he is a Muslim. He reiterates that Uzbek society is one of the liberal societies of the world. There will not be much of fuss when there is any inter-religious marriage. He cheekily adds on that when his children grow up they are free to marry anyone. They can marry a Muslim or a christian, or even a Hindu. Bahodir has spent 4 years in India bringing in managing new group artists from Uzbekistan every now and then. He says that there have been many memorable experiences in this country which he will take back with him. He loved small towns and villages of India than big cities. And he is sure that his horsemen will have a great time in India too.

While Uzbek artists went to put on the costumes for their show, I was hosted by Bahodir for lunch. I was treated with a plate of Chuchvara, which Alem and Gul had prepared while i was interviewing them. I must add that the Uzbek horse riders are not just good artists, but also good cooks.

Saving (Finding actually) Private Bahadur

2007-11-20T14:54:00.000-08:00

Circa July 2007

This is Men (Meen) Bahadur, a 10-year old Nepali kid at the Government Boys Home (Located close to both KIDWAI memorial hospital and NIMHANS) in Bangalore. Sitting behind him in the long corridor of the Boys home and crying, is a mentally disturbed inmate. I asked the officials why that kid was crying. They told me that it had become a routine for that boy to cry and wail without any provocation. His condition was due to his disturbed state of mind. I said to myself, that if there was anyone with a real reason to cry then it had to be Men Bahadur. But, Men wasn't crying.

Circa October 2007 (Four months later)

I had a casual chat with one of our reporters regarding the stories I've worked so far with. The story about Men Bahadur came up during this conversation. The reporter told me that she had recently visited the Government Boys Home, and had found out that Men was still an inmate there. We may need a miracle to send Men Bahadur to where he belonged to. And the place he belongs to, may not really be his homeland, Nepal. It could be a place in India; a place where his brother, Kishan Bahadur happens to posted as an Army personnel.

People who might know his brother may call him as Kishan, Bahadur, sepoy, Colonel, Captain, Lance Naik or maybe 'Private Bahadur'. Let's try to find and locate Kishan Bahadur and then send Men back to him. After all, 'little Men' left Nepal and fled to Bangalore in India on his own, because he was in search of his brother.

The story of Men Bahadur: Please read..

Men has been living in Bangalore for the past six years, which roughly means that he ran away from Nepal when he was around 4 years old. Besides the fact that he stayed near a mountain and a lake in Nepal, he doesn't remember anything. And the bad news is that as days pass by, it would be difficult for anyone to help him since there is a risk that he would forget even the little he remembers now.

According to Men, his real parents died when he was very young. After that he was taken care of by foster parents. He says that his foster father used to beat him up a lot and that prompted him to run away from home frequently. Unhappy with his foster family, Men longed to be with his elder brother Kishan who had left Nepal to join the Defence services in India (Probably the Ghorka regiment). Only information about his elder brother which the little kid had with him was that Kishan was undergoing some training in a place called Bangalore. Then one day little Men decided to go in search of his brother. Then what followed is quite unclear as Men says that he boarded a bus from Nepal to Bangalore. Thousands of kilometers apart it is unlikely that there is a bus service between Nepal and Bangalore. His exact journey from Nepal to Bangalore is unknown but what is clear is that somehow a four year old child from Nepal found himself lost in the streets of the city which is often referred to as the silicon valley of India

One day, the police officials luckily found Men on the streets. They admitted him at Makkala Ashraya Kendra (MAK) . However, he used to often run away from there. Men says that he was very happy at MAK, but when on being questioned why he used to run away from that place, his reply was that he was searching for his brother.

MAK was fed up of his vagabond ways and didn't wan't him. Hence he is currently at the Government Boys Home. They are trying hard to put him back in Makkala Ashraya Kendra. But ultimately that's not what Men wants. His real home would be with his brother.

His search is still on. Men has to find his brother. Do you want to help Men find his brother?
It is going to be a tough man-hunt. The only clues we have are his name (Kishan Bahadur), his country of origin(Nepal), his job (works for Indian Army), once upon time he was in Bangalore for some training, and he has little brother(Men Bahadur :-) ) who has gone missing from home since many years .

I request you to pass on the link to this post ( www.unconventionallife.blogspot.com/2007/10/saving-finding-actually-private-bahadur.html ) to your friends who are in the army or are from Nepal, or maybe to friends who might know anyone in the army or Nepalese living in India. I sincerely hope that this will be worth the effort and someday Men reunites with his brother.

Lacklustre Bangalore IT.in 2007

2007-10-31T01:17:00.000-07:00

Bangalore IT.in 2007 being held at BIEC(Bangalore International Exhibition Centre) has received a lukewarm response from the IT crowded Bangalore city. Here is an image of the 'May I help You' Help-desk which was of no help to the sparse crowd that had gathered courage to drive down to BIEC, located at 10th mile Tumkur road (far away from the city.... 35 kilometers from my home) to see what was in store this year. The desk was unattended during peak hours of activity on day 2 of the fest. The distance from the city seems to be a prime reason for the low response received this year.

A year spent behind the lens

2007-10-12T11:16:00.000-07:00

October 12th, 2007

October 13th 2006, that's one Friday which I'll never forget in my life. A year later, I see that today happens to be a small milestone for me. I will be completing one year of my life as a 'photojournalist'. Last year on that fateful Friday I bid farewell to the Corporate world and IT industry. And on the very next day I began my tryst with serious photojournalism. As the days progressed, my bank balance began to recede, my patience swung like a pendulum (my dad's patience... don't even ask about it!). There were nights I couldn't sleep. On the positive side, my confidence increased slowly as time went by.

My experiments with camera taught me something new every time when I had to shell out money in getting negatives developed, scanned and printed. Oh, I forgot to tell you something! I never had a DSLR camera then(Even today I don't really own one. My company has given a beauty for me to use). I had borrowed my friend's(Srikar) Film SLR to practice the craft. I swapped his Canon SLR with my Fuji digital camera for few days, which finally stretched to few months. Then, for a while I got Obi's(another friend ) Canon 350D to do some minor assignments.

Those days, I spent my time on the streets of Bangalore shooting life around it. I am grateful to the narrow lanes and alleys of Shivajinagar,Avenue road, and the timeless Russel market, and not to forget my hometown Kaup, which have let me indulge completely in the art of photography. Three hundred and sixty five days later, after shooting for NGOs, online magazines, in-flight magazines and few portraits, I have come to be part of a newspaper ( Bangalore Mirror). I have been a press photographer for last eight months.

When I look back I see that I have travelled quite a distance in a short while. Last month, I got to cover my first major Cricket assignment. I actually covered the India - Australia ODI (One Day International) match held at Bangalore:-) [Can you believe it?]. Next day , I saw my photographs in the lead sports page of our newspaper. Oh boy, what a feeling it was to be watching a cricket match(for free!) from the boundary lines, capturing the action in camera and then tirelessly editing pictures, captioning them and mailing them back to the desk on a laptop with WiFi Internet access. You had to be there to know exactly what it felt like. Next day, I got a pat on my back from many people for the pictures I had made during the match(I'll blog them shortly). I am looking forward for more of sports assignments. How many of you gave me a chance that I'd be handling such an assignment with in a year of having started my life from scratch? To be frank, I myself had no clue that I'd reach this milestone in a short time.

Today, as I woke up early, I was wondering how would I celebrate tomorrow. But, as unpredictable a day in the life of a photojournalist can get, I had something wonderful in store for me. I had to visit Bannerghatta Biological Park's Wildlife Rescue and Rehabilitation Centre(WRRC) on an assignment. The story was to cover the WRRC's first attempt to breed a Tigres with a wild tiger to bring in its wild genes to give birth to healthy offspring. This was a successful attempt. Today, Manasa the tigress has three healthy cubs. It was a beauty to photograph the Tiger cubs. And, finally came the moment when I decided to hold one of the cubs. I picked this little one (too heavy to be called little one) and it felt like carrying a two year old kid. I never thought I'd kiss a Tiger's forehead. But, Yippee! it was too cute for me not to do it. Here, I share one of the photographs which I clicked on this shoot along with a picture of me carrying the cub(thank Niranjan for photographing me). I love my job. I feel I have the best job in this world (apart from the Zoo keepers at WRRC who are doing some great work)

I thank everyone who has been part of this journey of mine as a photographer. I thank my family and all the old friends who have stood by me and have supported me as I went about doing what I liked the most. Many thanks to all the photographers who I've met along the way and who have not hesitated to share with me a lot of valuable information and experience. And finally, I thank all the people in the field of journalism, whom I got to meet at some point of the time or the other; they have made my life really exciting, either by contributing to my growth as a photojournalist or by just having been part my life. I've made few friends, I've lost few, went bankrupt for a while, faced tough times but I've come through. And, I dream of going the long way. I've made a promise to myself long back. I shall live up to it.
Good night.

Hand of rex

2007-08-29T23:04:00.000-07:00

This is Rex, all decked up in jewels and an eye catching Blue Saree, waiting for the events of the evening which were summed up as 'Breaking the Silence' to start.

Who is Rex? Rex is a cross-dresser and part of the group 'Sangama', an organization fighting for rights of the sexual minorities.
The events of the day(4th August, 2007) were to mark the launching of LesBIT, a new helpline for lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders in Bangalore city.

LesBit helpline number is 080-23439124

Note: More photographs connected to this story will shortly be published. So please drop in again

Love doesn't speak any language: Neither Spanish nor Gujarati

2007-06-27T11:41:00.000-07:00

Amiruddin in a playful mood with his grandpa.
Amiruddin speaks only Spanish where as his grandpa, Mr Mohammad Yousuf speaks Gujarati at home. But it ain't no barrier when it comes to the bond they share. Perhaps 'Nanapaaji' is the only Indian word Amiruddin and his younger brother Ahmed knew when i met them..... 'Naanapaaji' is what they call their grandpa as.

Am I cold, numb and heartless

2007-06-24T00:37:00.000-07:00

That's a question, which at times is thrown at me by the silent face of onlookers when I am in middle of my work.....

Life of a photojournalist is an interesting and a privileged one. You get to visit certain places, meet people and frame them in a photograph which you otherwise would never have got the opportunity to do so. But, it ain't a bed of roses all the way.

The truth is, that at the end of the day you need a photograph which is to be seen in the papers the next morning. And the process in getting it requires that you go through a roller coaster ride of emotions. You get to experience the life of people around you, be part of few moments of their lives, share their happiness and grief, and then let the world experience it through the story which your photograph is able to communicate to viewers. It is a tough job mate!

The post mortem section at Victoria hospital is a busy place. The increasing crime rate in the silicon city ensures that it always remains so, with the activity and crowded with grieving loved ones, the police, doctors and the news hungry media. Doctors who perform the autopsy, day in and day out and yet retain sanity in their minds, I hold them in high esteem.

As a news photographer one of the difficult jobs is to get the images of relatives of victims of homicide and suicide. And it gets more difficult when you are covering the story of gang wars and the person in front of you is the wailing wife of the victim, with whom she was riding back home from a temple four hours prior to you being there. In four hours her life has completely changed. She is traumatized while you intrude into her private emotion.

The lady here is a widow of a slain small time gangster. He was killed in a revenge attack which was part of the ugly 'Arrack wars' of Bangalore city. The arrack or illicit liquor is an illegal business with huge money involved in it. A month prior to this attack, a man from the rival camp was murdered in a similar brutal fashion in front of Urvashi Theatre.

She was in a room at the post mortem section where the cops were filing a report. I along with a reporter from our newspaper walked in. There were few close associates of her late husband who were consoling her. We began to ask questions regarding the incident and she tried her best in answering them as our reporter jotted down her answers in a notepad. Just as I switched on my camera and started clicking her photographs a window was forced open and one of her relatives was standing there and calling out to her. This sent her in a hysteria and she lost control and began wailing. With goosebumps all over me I framed this shot at that moment.

Have I become cold, numb and heartless? Has it become easy for me to shoot these images in presence of people who keep judging me? The fact is that even if there is no one there to judge me I would still be judging myself.

I respect the people who have permitted me to be there in middle of their personal tragedies with an intrusive device like a still camera( the love of my life) . It amazes me that even in their hard times they were able to understand what my duty is and let me perform my work. I truly empathise with them. I also understand the sentiments of the people who are not that welcome to the idea of me breaching their privacy.

Crime photography at the end of the day leaves you emotionally drained. But the impact your photograph can have in pressurizing the law enforcement agencies to take actions to make the city a tad bit safer than what it was yesterday is rewarding.

Protest in a different hue

2007-05-26T22:10:00.001-07:00

One man's art is another man's porn; We've heard this statement quite often and there definitely is lot of truth in it. In the state of Gujarat, which has witnessed enormous violation of fundamental constitutional rights where people's freedom of expression has been denied, an artist being arrested for displaying his art is definitely not a surprise. But what came as surprise to the 'moral police' and conservatives in Gujarat is the nationwide protest it spurred up demanding the release of Chandramohan, the student of Fine Arts in question.

Chandramohan was arrested on the charges of alleged obscene display of Hindu deities at an exhibition at Maharaja Sayyaji Rao University in Vadodra. He was finally released on bail. But the events leading to his release consisted of demonstrations at every major city or town which nurtures art-form of some kind. This meant that photojournalists across the nation had to go cover another protest in a nation where every other day one gets to see group of people walking down the street carrying banners and shouting slogans.

Monday the 14th May, time to visit MG(Mahatma Gandhi) statue located at beginning of MG road. MG statue has become the symbol of protest marches and dharna in Bangalore. When I was on trial for reportage I had to ride down to this place everyday to cover a protest. But now the publication I work for has turned into a tabloid and hence protests somehow are considered to be a routine event which only broadsheets are to cover. It meant that the sight of footpath opposite MG statue had turned into a rarity for me. So this was revisiting the place where it all began.

There I was, standing amidst sea of cameras consisting of both still and video. It seemed like this group of artists in Bangalore were destined to get a lot of footage for the outcry. Reporters and TV models (oops, I mean the pretty little things who are hired to be TV journalists ;-) , Just kidding) were busy getting interviews with the 'Arty' crowd of the city. Quite a few people whose faces were regularly seen in page 3 supplements were surprisingly there holding banners. It looks like some people were keen on attempting a jump from Page 3 to Page 1. God bless them in their endeavors.

Too many cameras, and visual repetition of images of people holding banners. What satisfaction does it give to make a similar image? Pretty mundane, I must admit. At this point let me confess something, every assignment I am sent to (however absurd the story maybe) I seriously look for the angle and perspective which has eluded every other lens. And I am sure lot of other photographers hunt for it. So there is this treasure hunt or a silent battle of finding that frame which has deceived every one's sight. Not everyday I end up successful in this attempt but I sure give it my best shot.

Banners, banners, banners! I am so bored of it. I was desperately experimenting to get something different out of this. Neither were there expressive faces to get some compelling portraits nor any power-packed clash between authorities and the protesters. I moved to one corner of the protest and viewed through the lens to see how the line of protesters look like from there. There was nothing impressive except for the angle. Wait a minute, what do we see here. These chaps were wearing black arm bands. Well, something was cooking in my head. Few minutes later I had my frame with the focus being on the black arm bands rather than banners and faces of people.

The picture told me a story and I hoped it could tell the world a story. That is what I, a photojournalist looks for at the end of the day. But, question at that moment in my mind was: Will such experiments with new ideas work in Indian print media? Will they accept this picture or will they ask me for a photograph with "More people! Famous people!Page 3 Celebs! And banners! And action shot of people trying to scream!". It wasn't a logistical problem as I had framed these conventional shots too. But, the fact is that it hurts a lot when your substandard works are given the limelight when your hard-thought favorite works are forgotten. Your approach and your way of thinking is never known to the world. Your identity is relegated to a newspaper byline like 'Photo by xyz', and that's all.

Back in the office, I gave prints and location of the digital images to the news-editors and hoped for the best. Next day morning when I came back to office I was thrilled not only to see this photograph being selected from the lot I had given, but also at the fact that it made it to the front page. It may not be an excellent work but surely it feels good to have your hard work rewarded with something called as 'job satisfaction'.

When the sound lets you see the truth.

2007-05-19T09:30:00.001-07:00

Vaseem, a 22 year old aspiring journalist who is also visually impaired, uses JAWS(a software which aids the visually imapaired by translating text to sound) for his studies and browsing on the computer. Vaseem along with many of his visualy impaired friends stay in Samarthanam, an NGO dedicated to improving lives of the disabled.

It was a great moment for me when Vaseem sent me an email while I was making this photograph. The first thing I did when I got back to my office, was I replied to him. We have now decided to be friends.
VTPhoto: Nishant Ratnakar

No Indians allowed. Only foreigners

2007-05-18T12:18:00.000-07:00

I and couple of my friends undertook a trip to Pondicherry to spend our Ugadi weekend in this coastal holiday destination. It was a road trip which was decided on the spur of the moment with the intention to break free from the rush of the stressful life we lead in Bangalore city. Hence, our accommodation at 'Pondi' (the slang used by the young city crowd to refer to this holiday destination which was a former French colony) was not reserved in advance. After a long road trip and a frustrating, futile search for a suitable sea facing hotel in the main town of Pondi we decided to take our chance and find a beach cottage or shack along the East Coast Road (ECR) which connects Pondicherry to Mahabalipuram.

After twenty minutes on ECR we reached a stretch of highway running adjacent to the sea shore lined with shacks and cottages. We stopped our car and walked down to sandy beach to book our stay at the popular Aurovile Waves resort. Also, it had been nine long hours since our last meal and we were very hungry. We were told that the cottages at the Waves were fully occupied and maybe we could try our luck at Muthu's resort which was adjacent to it. With hungry stomachs, we prodded our way under the afternoon sun towards Muthu's in the direction given to us by the lady who was at the Waves.

In front of us was a stretch of beach filled mainly with foreigners. And there was a rope running from the road towards the waters separating that part of the beach from the stretch of the coast opposite the Aurovile Waves. It seemed like some sort of demarcation and there was a board with a message written in Tamil. None of us knew Tamil and we walked towards the other side of the rope. At that moment we heard whistles from a nearby shack. There were two men in Security uniform and a hefty man who resembled like some of the bouncers in Bangalore Pubs. All the three men were Indians. They made signs which indicated us to keep away from this stretch of Beach. Confused, we decided to walk up to them and find out what was the issue.

"What is the problem?"

"You can't come to this part of the beach"

"Why?(Still confused)"

"No Indians allowed here. Only Foreigners".

"What!(Shocked)." "But we want to look for accommodation here."

"No accommodation."

"(Still recovering from the shock)Okay. But we are very hungry and have traveled a long way from Bangalore. We will have lunch here."

"No lunch served here. Only Snack Bar."

"Okay, fine. We will have snacks then."

"Don't enter from here. Come from the back entrance facing towards the road."

"Why? we'll enter from here"

"No, you can't! Enter from the other side."

At this point, we felt humiliated and walked out of that place. It was shocking to receive such a treatment in India for the simple reason of being an Indian. It is high time we stopped pointing fingers at the West for racial discrimination we are subjected to in foreign countries. We ourselves are discriminating our own people based on race.

This definitely was the worst, but not the first time I had experienced racial discrimination. In the past, I had faced a similar issue in Goa, which coincidentally is also another beach holiday destination drawing lot of foreign tourists and is also a former European colony. And incidents of such racial discrimination are experienced by other Indian domestic travelers too. Ryan Lobo, a documentary photographer writes in his blog( http://www.ryanlobo.blogspot.com/ ) about such a local racial discrimination he was subjected to in his place of birth, Goa. In a restaurant, when he questioned the waiter for overpricing a meal, the waiter shot back at his taxi driver telling him not to bring Indians as they only want to serve foreigners.

It is hurting to know that such incidents are happening in some of the most famous holiday destinations of our country. It is understandable that foreign tourists constitute a Major income for the people involved in hospitality business in these places. But should that translate to contempt for your countrymen?

I only hope that the sign board with a message written in Tamil on that sandy beach off the ECR did not translate to "Indians and dogs not allowed". Such a sign are memories from the pre-Indian independence era and let it remain so. Touch wood!

Boulevard of broken dreams

2007-04-23T23:32:00.001-07:00

Boulevard of broken dreams
Originally uploaded by travelling writer.

The man, machine and a boulevard which is history...
VTPhoto: Nishant Ratnakar

Surprised that we just walk on.
May be helpless, but we just walk on.
We walk on the disappearing boulevard,
As the city, they say has to move forward

When the monks came marching

2007-04-04T12:25:00.000-07:00

Forty eight years ago, on the10th of March in the year1959, Tibetans rose up to protest against Chinese occupation of Tibet and to re-assert their demand for complete independence. Millions of Tibetans since then have lost their lives in this struggle, and also thousands of them lose their lives every year as they attempt to cross borders to enter India and Nepal to escape from the Human rights abuses they are being subjected to by the army. Events that unfolded after that 10th of March led to His Holiness Dalai Lama leaving Tibet and coming to India with large number of Tibetan refugees. Since then the Tibetans have found a home in India and other countries. But their quest to return to their homeland and feel safe still remains unfulfilled.

Every year, 10th of March is observed as the Tibetan National Uprising Day. This year it was the 48th anniversary of this day. In Bangalore, the capital city of Karnataka state in India, mass public demonstrations and rallies were planned on March 9th and 10th to observe this day. The photographs in this story document the events and happenings which occurred during these two days. As a prelude to this, around 150 monks who were mainly from the monasteries of Bylakuppe (located in Karnataka state) staged a week long 'Peace march' which began on 3rd of March at Mysore and culminated on 9th of March in Bangalore city.

Day 1: 9th march, 2007

The monks arrived in large numbers to the city. After a brief break, they began a rally from Chicklalbagh to Mahatama Gandhi statue.

They came from differents parts of India, where they have found a home to stay as long as their struggle lasts.

They marched on telling the people of the city about what they had been doing for a week: Walking on searching for peace.

The principle of 'ahimsa' or Non-violence is the core of their movement. This was evident for a stranger to their struggle, as it could be seen by the posters which depict the two apostles for peace from this sub-continent region.

The Tibetan flags were all over the place: flying high, on the shoulders, people draped in them.

All the while they recited 'Janchup Semchok', a Tibetan prayer for peace where they request the people who have no kindness in their hearts to fill it with kindness and for people who have it, to spread it all over the world.

And as they sang, they dreamed of the day they could return to their homeland.

The women leaders came out and read out the intentions of this march undertaken by these monks, their demands and the sufferings of their countrymen, to the people of Bangalore city

They continued to read repeatedly and tirelessly the message of the monks in English and Kannada languages.

Also, their message to the world was clear. It is high time United Nations intervened seriously to resolve the issue.

The Tibetan leaders in the city later honored the monks who undertook the week long march, by presenting them white shawls.

The Tibetan youth who came to show their support for the monks joined them in their prayer for peace.

Day 2: 10th March, 2007

They came from all walks of life.

The message was loud and clear as they marched shouting slogans with painted faces,flags and banners

A Passionate Moment. Emotions were running high.

Even the mothers were out on the streets to remind the world of a fateful day in history.

Everyone had a message to send across... The young....

...And the old. Some of then as old as the movement.. and some, even older.

With blessings of His Holiness behind them, they marched on.

Some decided to spread the message through the 'sounds of silence'...

The youth were kept motivated by their leaders. Some of them relied on words..

Some, by just their very presence: Lhakpa Tsering La, youth leader who attempted self-immolation in the year 2006 when the Chinese premier visited India.

Even the bruises echoed their message.

Moment of silence as a mark of respect for all those who have sacrificed their lives for the movement.

They sang the national anthems of both their mother land and as well of their adopted home,India....

They listened to what the leaders had to say.

With utmost seriousness

Once again, another March 10th passed by. Another walk, Another petition, Another protest, another year.... When will the issue be resolved? 'Rangzen' (independence) is what he wants. But the 'holiness' asks for true autonomy. But, will he get any of those?

Me, my solitude and Raju's 350D - Part 2

2007-03-20T01:38:00.000-07:00

Its been nearly two weeks of probation period at VT. Me and Raju's camera (canon 350 D) did get to see some amount of life in Bangalore which was previously unknown to us. From Page 1 to Page 3 we have got to see a great deal of Bangalore. Sometimes boring stories and sometimes stories which reaffirms faith in the work I have set about doing, they all seem to be part of the game.

The two days I spent about covering the Tibetan Uprising day events have enhanced my confidence a great deal. I was surrounded by photographers who were working for agencies like Reuters,AP,PTI and AFP. It felt great to know that I was trying to capture in frames the story which they were interested too. I knew the event had a worldwide significance. For the first time I was given an opportunity to compare my work with the agencies worldwide. Well, its a different issue that the equipments they had at their disposal were technically far more superior than my buddy, the canon 350D. But hey! who cares? Me and 350D accepted the challenge gracefully. It was natural that I went back home and compared my work with theirs which was updated on the agencies' websites. And I am being frank, I was impressed with my work on the Tibetan story which was done on 350D. This was a boost for me. Someday I'll definitely make it to one of the agencies.

But as the story goes, only one image made it to print from those 2 days:-(. Now, for the first time I got an insight into the business of newspapers. There were local issues and advertisements which needed space. Tibetan struggle somehow didn't fit the scheme of Bangalore centric newspaper.I had to kiss this fact. I had shot some page3 kinda pictures on the same day. They made it in large numbers. Something new about professional modern day journalism I had learned.

Life goes on; So I moved on from Rakshita's Mehendi ceremony payasam to buffets at Star hotels of Bangalore while covering events and press meets. A trip to IIMB and freezing the future corporate czars of India, listening to a Tibetan hero who one day I know shall be the leader of modern independent Tibet(if Tibet's destiny has independence in it), meeting visionaries of Karnataka state and then attempting an undercover operation in Bangalore subways where prostitution was rampant; it surely has been a great ride so far. I have come to know my limitations as well as my buddy 350D's. But we have to learn to live with our limitations and make the most of it. And yeah, my probation at VT has nearly come to an end and I am waiting to hear from the Resident Editor on my future here. I have a feeling that I have done well. I hope they tell me soon. I have to return Raju's 350D and buy mine soon.

Retrospecting through the last few months, I have come to realise that I am walking with huge weight on my shoulders. No, its not Raju's camera bag:-). The weight I am referring to is of the expectations and dreams. I have realized that I am not just in a process of trying to realize my dreams. I am in fact trying to realize a million dreams. I was not alone, there are a large number of people who were and still are caught in a life they are not really keen on leading. But they do not want to risk an adventure to change things. I decided to break free and yeah I know, my decision had shocked many people. I can hear the words "Your son needs counselling I guess" still ringing in my ears. People who could draw similarities between their lives and mine have regularly been in touch with me. They are hoping I succeed in whatever I have set about doing. They are trying to realize their dreams of breaking free and reaching the pinnacle through me. And my friend, that is a huge pressure situation here. But I seem to love it.

I know that if all shall go well,
I'll be a legend walking with applause.
And if fate shall have its way,
I'll still be a martyr of my own cause.
-Nishant Ratnakar