Queenstown: A hidden gem in New Zealand’s crown

When William Rees first discovered Queenstown back in 1860, hardly could he have imagined the amazing bounty this land was going to bear in the years to come. And I am not even talking about the gold that was excavated two years later which changed the history of this beautiful city forever. To put it in a line and I have really given this one some thought, this idyllic dreamland has everything one could possibly want in the name of indulgence- nature, adventure, peace, gastronomy, cruises, excursions, safaris, culture, history and not to forget, rare cinematic charm. Queenstown is so photogenic that it is like shooting a ravishing woman on your camera, she will come out looking like a million bucks everytime! You can take all the credit for it but the truth is, this is one good-looking holiday album you just simply cannot go wrong with. The best part- it still manages to feel humble, warm and welcoming, almost like its indubitable beauty is a given, something that the city wears effortlessly, reminiscent of an alluring woman who wears her charm like a shining brooch.

From gushing rivers, placid lakes, glacier hot pools to gaping valleys, towering peaks and mersmerising fiords, Queenstown offers a stunning amalgamation of sights and sounds. Whether you are out with friends or looking to relive the good times as a couple, trust this city to help you unleash the wild side in you with innumerable action adventures to count on. So if you wish to lose yourself in the lap of nature, try bungying to a jaw-dropping depth at the Kawarau Bridge- the ‘world home of bungy!’ You can choose to ziptrek or skytrek, paraglide, skydive or hang glide your way through the scenic alpine views. For those who can dig deeper in their pockets, there is the helicopter ride or flight that glides over the state’s expansive national parks, glaciers, mountains and lakes. Many of these are accompanied with gourmet picnics, extreme golfing, wine trails and fly fishing to make them truly exhilarating experiences.

Whether you go for these aerial stunts or not, your adventure is incomplete without a cruise through either Milford Sound or Doubtful Sound. One can try kayaking through the crystal clear waters and behold the untrammeled wilderness. Also touted as the ‘eighth wonder of the world’, Milford Sound is a piece of timeless beauty you are likely to remember for years to come. Observed as the place of silence, a visit to Doubtful Sound will help you enjoy rare moments of tranquillity you can treasure for a lifetime. If you lack time for the whole cruise trip, a lake cruise through the majestic Wakatipu is a must to soak in the sight of the sturdy Remarkables mountain range, the plush urban settlements around the shore, and the translucent waters gushing under the boat as you sip from a glass of refreshing white wine. While if you want to play explorer, one can go ahead and look out for the Hidden Island, Frankton Arm and Cecil Peak’s secret waterfalls, a la Enid Blyton style, for those who like to enjoy a toast on the lake, the vintage steamship TSS Earnslaw packs in a farm tour, gourmet BBQ meal at the Colonel’s Homestead Restaurant and a guided cycle tour to Mavora Lakes. Itineraries around Queenstown are customised to suit your time in the city, so if you can’t squeeze in so much, just slip in to a harness and get an awe-inspiring bird’s eye view of Lake Wakatipu on a paraflight, that lifts you 600 feet above the ground!

Need one for speed? Drop the cruise and head out to jetset or raft across the fiesty Kawarau and Shotover rivers on a jetboat and let the rapids, cliffs and willows thrill you through the jagged canyons. Wish to dig deeper in to the white water- opt for riverboarding that takes you around Mt. Aspiring National Park, try a rough rock jump or peer in to a rock pool and lose yourself in the gorgeous chasms. Don’t blame yourself if you feel you have washed up right in to the ‘The Lord of the Rings’ franchise because this is exactly where parts of the series as well as The Hobbit were shot. In fact, 45 kms away by road from Queenstown is the frontier village of Glenorchy. Tour on horse or a quadbike to take in the spectacular scenery that is now immortalised as ‘Middle Earth’ in cinema. Let local experts guide you through film locations of Isengard and more as they regale you with stories from the films’ making. My fan moment however, was when I almost ended up buying a replica of the Evenstar necklace that Arwen gifts Aragon as a token of her love in the film! If only I could rub it and land up in Lothlorien and perhaps bump into Legolas....sigh!

Now if you like roughing it out on a tight budget and yet not compromise on the nature trail, rent a bike around Lake Hayes also known as the ‘mirror lake’ or the most photographed lake in the state. Zip through Arrowtown, Gibbston wineries or the stimulating Jacks Point trail. Or simply put on your walking shoes and trudge through a half day bush walk in the forested hills. Take a closer look in to Kiwi culture tracing the goldmining of Arrowtown, the origins of Merino wool at Mt. Nicholas High Country Farm or a wine trail that lets you get a taste of the local hospitality and cheese.

Oh wait, in case I made this sound like a trip for adults so far, and you are probably wondering where to dump the kids, read on! Don’t even get fooled by Queenstown’s reference to being New Zealand’s adventure capital, because this is a holiday destination meant for all ages. Got kids- send them off reeling into the Puzzling World with its whacky architecture, the Transport and Toy Museum that houses over 50,000 toys or the creepy Fear Factory. Say hello to the diving ducks, slimy eels or the heady trout and many more fauna at the Underwater Observatory or take a plunge into the city’s largest indoor swimming complex called Alpine Aqualand. Tamer versions of explorations include the Ziptrek Ecotours or a visit to the Lakes District Museum for some exciting insights in to the history of the Southern Lake District. Bringing in the cherry on the top is the absolutely addictive Luge ride (between me and my sister, we clocked 27 rounds!) that gives you breath-taking views of the mountain as you slide down the sloping and twisted tracks downhill.

After burning so much energy, all you need is a chilled cocktail to celebrate a heavenly holiday and the Minus 5 degree Ice Bar or the Below Zero Ice Bar sure keeps it frozen! Calm those senses with a rejuvenating bout at a neighbourhood spa. The city has plenty of those keeping in mind the sore feet you will have after so much of swashbuckling action! Craving some delish food- there’s everything from rustic Italian, authentic Indian or Irish to modern Malaysian to please your palate. While there are enough fine dining and fast food options, make sure you gorge on some prime lamb rump steak cooked to perfection and served with rosemary or creamy mashed potatoes, green beans or fresh herbs and harissa sauce or coleslaw on the side.

Putting up in Queenstown is easy as it offers a varied picking for the asking- from rented apartments for the whole family to campervans or caravans for those who like to stay close to the great outdoors. Before you fly out though, make room in your bags for some award-winning, handcrafted sheep, goat and cow cheese , organic produce and of course the full-bodied Otago pinot noir wines spiked with mixed spice, fruit or even chocolate to complement your meals back home. As for me, I stocked up on some candied fruit, kiwi-shaped souvenirs and opal and jade jewellery that would serve as worthy reminders of a trip so precious!

Queenstown rightly encapsulates the mythical proportions of J R R Tolkein’s imagined landscape and justifies his musing, ‘Not all those who wander are lost.’ However, given its fantastical backdrop and intoxicating exuberance, it is easy to lose oneself in the blissful wonders of Queenstown.

Much Ado About Massey: A New Rising

It was not until this post that I have had to make a revelation- that I have been an avid viewer of the TV soap opera that was Balika Vadhu much before it acquired its cult following. I have always deliberately stayed away from being subjugated to regular substandard and stereotypical fare that is daily soaps on Hindi GECs. However, I made an exception for this show for the sheer theme of child marriage and the protagonist’s journey as a Rajasthani child bride in a high-class, wealthy and influential household run by a crafty and feisty matriarch. It helped that substantial roles were given to very good actors including Surekha Siri, Anoop Soni and Smita Bansal. 

Usually, most soaps that drag on (and this one did for quite some time) lose their edge after they have made their point. So how much could you milk the backdrop of child marriage and how it is really harmful for all the evils the victim has to bear as a result? This one did go on and on for quite a credible while until it resorted to a time leap, again another ploy used by most soaps to add freshness and new twists to the sagging plot. After having borne the highs and lows of all the characters and their individual trajectories, out came a fresh crop of young and blooming brigade of actors who would achieve due fame and fortune with the passage of time thanks to their ability to hold their own amidst the already established ones. We all know of how the likes of Sushant Vyas, Pratyusha Banerjee and Siddharth Shukla attained instant stardom after being launched on this by then megashow. But one character managed to propel his career forward without being principal to the plot and that is the unassuming Vikram Massey who played Shyam- a village boy enamoured by the pure charm of a child widow who had lost her will to live and love after the untimely demise of her husband. Unlike the dramatic and overdone Romeo-like lovers, Shyam’s character was subdued, sobre and unusually mature for his age- just the kind of resolute support the nubile and vulnerable child widow needed during this time. And Vikrant managed to bring such earnestness and fortitude to his role, that he won the vote of the powerful matriarchal household the widow belonged to as well as the audience’s favour in no time.

In an ad with Alia Bhatt for Cornetto icecream

Vikrant has become a familiar face since then with several ads and TV appearances in ‘Yeh Hai Aashiqui’, ‘Qubool Hai’ and others. Like most actors who are eager to bite in to meatier parts to explore their potential, this budding star decided to toughen up his act and venture in to Hindi films. Not an easy path for TV actors and rarely so for character actors, Vikrant managed to grab significant if not major parts in films like Lootera where he played consort to Ranvir Singh’s crook character. We also saw him essay the role of a rich boy turned pining lover in Dil Dhadakne Do in a miniscule role amidst a stellar star cast where even a known actor like Rahul Bose got very little screen time. And recently, he is being called the only silver

In an ad with Shahid Kapur for Samsung mobile

lining in the dark cloud that is the film ‘Half Girlfriend’. Considering it stars star kids Arjun Kapoor and Shraddha Kapoor who are many films old and have a fair background for delivering hits earlier, this is saying a lot. Also because even though I haven’t seen the film, I am sure he must have not got the best lines or ahem...even a quarter of the girlfriend in the end. (Don’t blame me, it’s the term that gives one bad ideas).

With Ranvir Singh in Lootera

If you are to look at the glorious history of character actors and I remember writing about this at length at an earlier occasion, it is not the length of your role but what you make of it that determines your success. Time and again, versatile actors like Om Puri, Kader Khan, Boman Irani, Anupam Kher and Paresh Rawal have proved this to us. So much that scripts are written keeping them in mind and their roles are lengthened in order to give more weightage to them as the audience seems to want more of them in every film they star in. They have the tendency to become inseperable parts of the whole film, in spite of the disarming presence of your favourite hearthrob, the charming lure of the lead actress or the light-hearted banter of the staple comic sidekick. Often, we even recall their roles in a film as much as the lead character because of the impact they leave on us.

Think Sanjeev Kumar in Sholay, Mohnish Behl in Hum Aapke Hain Kaun (one of the most famous dialogues in Maine Pyar Kiya are courtesy a lecherous him saying, “Ek ladka aur ladki kabhi dost nahi ho sakte.”), Reema Lagoo or Alok Nath in Maine Pyar Kiya, Nawazuddin Siddique in Bajrangi Bhaijaan or Deepak Dobriyal in the Tanu Weds Manu series.

It is even more applaud-worthy when such character actors then begin to claim fair share of their role in building a film’s narrative. Vikrant is of course young and has a long way to go but his next film does make us believe that he is in for the long haul. Come June 2, we will see him as Shutu in Konkona Sen Sharma’s directorial debut film, ‘Death in the Gunj’. Giving him company will be actors like Tanuja, Om Puri, Ranvir Shorey, Kalki Koechlin among others and if his past repertoire of acting is anything to go by, he might just leave us impressed yet again with his sincere performance.

It is great that filmmakers are pushing the envelope when it comes to layering characters with more complexity, greyness and purpose. It makes room for actors like Massey to prove their mettle in an industry that only reveres a handful and remembers a chosen few.

The Pihu Diary: Learning to be the ‘fairer’ sex

With everyone having their own take on feminism, it is not surprising that I often tend to mull over the kind of world Pihu will grow up to be part of. Will people still be giving it so much weightage in their conversations and will it continue to affect the way she chooses to live her life? Will it hamper her lifestyle and will she be caught in an endless web of trying to assert her independence, choices, decisions and rights against the other gender? Often, we sow the seeds of feminism right in a girl’s childhood, evident in the way we urge her to think of herself as no less than the opposite sex, indulging her with toys that are not confined to pink clothed dolls or soft toys, even in the way we encourage her to strengthen herself physically initially with more gender-neutral sports like cycling or swimming and basketball and then take on more strenuous sports like trekking, martial arts or even kick boxing! Little do we realise that what we are conditioned to believe in our young age is what we will be compelled to pass on as learnings to our future generations. So when you ask your teenaged daughter to abstain herself from social activity due to her menstruation, take note that she will be unconsciously memorising it as a socially accepted norm that she must instill the appropriateness of once her own daughter comes of age and so on. We really can’t do without imposing our own world view on unstained, innocent minds, can we? So here I have a check list of things I must remind myself of not doing as Pihu grows up so that she doesn’t end up feeling like her life was deprived, short-changed or undermined for the simple reason of her being born a woman.

Tell her it’s a man’s world out there.

For all that he thinks he can claim ownership of it, too bad because a woman is his more-abled counterpart when it comes to saving the world! Happy realisation but given that women are unstoppable given the opportunity to live with equal rights and responsibilities, men have to sooner or later realise that we are a force to reckon with. We build homes brick by brick, stand on our feet so that we don’t lean on anyone else for support, create a family literally from scratch and then spend our lives trying to keep it all together. So it only works when you agree to full-fledged partnership and mutual co-operation between sexes.

Give in to stereo-types.

A girl must get married by a certain age, she must have kids by 30 and then go about trying to juggle home and office. She must change her lifestyle to suit everyone else’s while nobody else does the same for her. Also, she must not drive a car because women tend to be poor drivers, she must listen more and talk less....yada yada. Notice how most of these stereo-types work against a woman’s natural progress in the world.

Let the man be the bread winner.

We seem to justify our lack of ambition sometimes based on the fact that first our fathers bring us up in this world only to transfer those duties to the husband once we get married. The need to really earn a livelihood is therefore not a compulsion all the time. Getting a job and creating one’s own savings in order to fortify your family’s financial well-being is not a way of proving to the man that he is incapable of running the house. It is your way of showing your worth professionally and successfully safeguarding any monetary mishap that can arise in the future.

Indoctrinate the idea that appearances define your gender.

A girl has to be fair, have waist long tresses, must know how to wear make-up, should never sport a tan, must have a thin waist, must not go out with boys...you’d be surprised how much of all this is still very much relevant today. So Pihu can grow up to be a tomboy with an aversion to all things too feminine for all I care. As long as she can look good in whatever she wears and is comfortable in her skin, I should be happy.

Use words like compromise, sacrifice and apologise in reference to society’s expectations.

A girl must learn to share what is hers, be the giver, lose if it makes others happy, and generally tow the line if she wants to survive. What she should learn in stead is if the men around her can only see her do these things in order to fit in, it is them she needs to give up on and not her dreams, her ambitions and desires. Women are born protectors, procreators, nurturers and caregivers but if anyone threatens their freedom to express themselves or forces them to succumb to the latter’s own understanding of virtuous living, she has a right to put her foot down. If God wished women to be deaf and dumb, we would probably be so but since we aren’t, we might as well use the powers bestowed upon us to be the best version of ourselves we can.

The Selfie vs The Selfless

On a recent trip to Amritsar, I had the opportunity to visit the ill-fated site of Jallianwala Bagh- a piece of land that played hapless venue to the massacre of over a 1000 Indians who had convened there to deliberate over the repercussions of the Rowlatt Act and other atrocities levelled by the British Government to ensure subjugation of its Indian subjects. A quick brush up with history lessons taught in school would remind you that the Jallianwala Bagh episode till date is considered as one of the most cruel demonstrations of the inhuman depths that the British rule made permissible in India.

Bear with me as I reel back to that day and age. In the wake of World War I, much of India’s wealth and manpower had been exhausted to aid the British armoury. Unjustified taxation and the insolent curbing of civil and political liberties had meant that protests and unrest across India were intensifying. Particularly in Punjab and Bengal, a series of acts of non-co-operation and disobedience had begun, giving steam to the emerging class of freedom fighters who were willing to lay down their lives to unshackle their motherland from the stifling grip of the British empire. The perceptive Britishers were constantly wary of the emotional upheaval that aimed to turn ordinary Indians in to violent and non-compliant demonstrators of protest. In order to nip a brewing conspiracy to catch the British guard unaware and begin a trend of revolt across the country in the bud, public gatherings were banned in the holy city of Amristar, fearing aggressive mob behaviour in the aftermath of the arrest of Indian leaders who had the power to sway public opinion towards rebellion. The estimated figure of people who had irrespective of such a curfew or ignorant about it assembled at the Bagh, is believed to be between 15000-20000. This included people who had come together to celebrate Baisakhi, devotees from the neighbouring Golden Temple and those who wished to silently understand the reasons for the British Government’s rising intolerance for its colonised population. It was a mixed crowd with Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs in good measure. Giving vent to rage against the commencement of this meeting despite the recent ruling out of public gatherings, and in remonstration to the violent attack on an English missionary woman, Miss Marcella Sherwood by an angry mob in the city, an instigated Colonel Reginald Dywer decided to open fire on the crowd present at the Bagh on April 13, 1919. The unfortunate targets of this massacre were unarmed men, women and children who had no clue what was on Col. Dywer’s mind and fell prey to the 1650 rounds of firing by 90 Gorkha soldiers under his command. Armoured cars with machine guns were also part of Dywer’s artillery, unused as he later revealed, due to the narrow size of the entrance to the Bagh, which prevented such an attack. The Bagh is further enclosed by walls that are over 10 feet high on all sides, and has one narrow opening that served as both entry and exit to the congregation area. The wounded were no freedom fighters or rebels- they were commoners including farmers, businessmen and pilgrims. Dywer’s gruesome act of force, was condemned by a sizeable number of Britishers themselves including Secretary of State for War Winston Churchill who called it ‘monstrous’ and led to the subsequent retiring of the Colonel in question. This was not before ample evidence was gathered as to the said act of violence and Dywer’s self-acclaimed will to teach the Indians a lesson for daring to protest against his country.

The Jallianwala Bagh massacre is an important chapter in history because it caused a significant stir in the general mood of both the ruler and the ruled and continues to resonate in our perspective on unchecked violence that we have imbibed from it till date. It was an incident that shook Indians to their very core, irrespective of class or region.  Validating this point was the great literary figure Rabindranath Tagore who was bound by his sense of  nationality and spirit of patriotism to renounce his title of ‘Sir’ and who was compelled to write to the then Viceroy Lord Chelmsford saying, “The enormity of the measures taken by the Government in the Punjab for quelling some local disturbances has, with a rude shock, revealed to our minds the helplessness of our position as British subjects in India ... [T]he very least that I can do for my country is to take all consequences upon myself in giving voice to the protest of the millions of my countrymen, surprised into a dumb anguish of terror. The time has come when badges of honour make our shame glaring in the incongruous context of humiliation.” Closer to the present date, Queen Elizabeth II in 1997, made a visit to the Bagh to acknowledge the severity of the memory of that fateful day, calling it a ‘distressing example’ of a ‘difficult episode of our past.’ David Cameron, the then ruling UK Prime Minister on his visit in 2013 in turn addressed the massacre as ‘deeply shameful’ and a constant reiteration of why we must respect peaceful protests, universally.

The Bagh is also host to a well from which were recovered 120 bodies of those victims who threw themselves in to avoid the open firing. A peek in to the now preserved well will tell you that just looking inside its plunging depths is dizzying, leave alone the temptation of jumping into it. So why did so many unerring, probably even religious, God-fearing and responsible citizens have to sacrifice their lives and turn martyrs for their country? If the same situation were to exist today, would we react in the same way as them, only apart from us by a couple of centuries? At this said visit of mine, I couldn’t help but reflect upon the deep chasm that was now left between that and our current generation. We might have come a long way from the British rule and our freedom struggle and as thriving youngsters of a progressive independent India, we feel pride at having moved in the right direction. It still however deeply troubles me to think the ease of life the sacrifices of the past have bestowed upon our present. Reliving this experience sent up shivers down my spine. Retelling it leaves me with pangs of sorrow, for the terrible losses suffered on the count of a seemingly apathetic foreign rule which did much to instill regimented discipline, developed infrastructure and stringent administration but also ensured constant strife, dissatisfaction and deprivation.

The steady sense of entitlement we feel towards our freedom is appalling. The nonchalance we bear towards our glorious past that earned us global recognition as a country united amidst all odds and that was able to form a democratic government in a backdrop of partition and regional disharmony is baffling. Would we as a population be able to rise up to the occasion if faced with military opposition, nuclear war, political machinations that lead to civil unrest or natural disasters of cataclysmic proportions? The ordinary middle class man and woman today are caught up in a daily mechanical grind that necessitates a personal battle- one fought against society, community, class, religion, the digital revolution, technological invasion, insurmountable domestic and professional responsibilities, caught in a never-ending race against time. We all wish to live in our glass bubbles- be it the channel surfing homemaker, the errant teenager who refuses to walk the career path oft-trod, the struggling entrepreneur who has just tasted success in his first start-up, the time-crunched corporate executive who wants to scale up that ladder at a fast and furious pace, the wife turned mother in a nuclear family who is walking the thin line to achieve the perfect work-life balance, the retired grandfather who wishes to visit his future generations abroad on a yearly visit....do we have the time or mindspace to wean ourselves out of our comfort zone and think how it would be to give up our dreams, wishes, goals and lives for the single-minded purpose of defending our country and its sovereignty?

May be I am just getting whimsical, seduced by the travails of nostalgia and overwhelmed by the stories of our past. May be I am just an emotional fool getting batty as I get old. It is however important for me to know if I have that much will-power and resolve to go out there and give up everything just like that. We may not have those freedom fighters anymore but we do have lion-hearted men and women standing to protect all that we guard in the name of our country- its borders, its identity and its rule. Our soldiers in the army, navy and airforce are doing just that and while it is a choice they make to enter these frontiers and are compensated for the same, they still have a life very few of us can envision, let alone live it!

So when I treaded down the Attari-Wagah border that links and at the same time, divides India and Pakistan, two nations forever caught in the cross-fire of communal tension and political disparity, I was at once humbled by the sheer determination and valour of the Border Security Force to man the first line of guard. I have always been in awe of our line of defence- whether it is watching the Republic Day parade to see the new innovations and additions in our defence forces, the technological and human dexterity of our armed guards, the unhindered zeal and pride they take in sacrificing everything they own including their lives in the line of duty...it is all immensely inspiring and incredible. My father has a lot of friends in the Indian Navy and having lived in Mumbai for most of our lives, he was a regular guest at the US Club, the Navy Ball and enjoyed free use of the Naval swimming Club thanks to his ‘influential’ friends. In fact that is where I remember getting in to a pool for the first time to be trained by a rather rough and tough retired septuagenarian naval officer turned coach. One of my dad’s friends took us inside his submarine, he was a high ranking naval official who regularly took off on several naval sojourns to guard the Indian shores. The sheer magnanimity of his task, the girth of what lies beneath inside the belly of the black monstrosity, the eagerness with which his unit took us through the work they do everyday, the precision with which every move is planned, it was all a man-made marvel for me.

Since then I have seen soldiers in many a hill station, city or state which shares its border with other neighbouring countries and each time, been impressed by their chivalrous and reticent but regimented stature. Their level of commitment is even more palpable at the freezing borders of Kashmir, the ruthless rocky terrain of Sikkim or the arid landscapes of Rajasthan. I remember standing at a high altitude to take a glimpse of the mersmerising Gurudongmar Lake at 18,000 feet above sea level in North Sikkim, right near the Indo-China border and staring agape at a turbanned soldier quietly standing as cool, still and tranquil as the placid lake. It was unnerving to see his resolute stance at a place where I could barely stand (without my knees crackling) or breathe. I remember insisting on taking a shot with him with my husband because he was no less than a hero for me and I wanted to preserve this memory of meeting him for posterity. I almost envied him his astute confidence, composure and strength of will. At the beating retreat ceremony that takes place twice at the Attari-Wagah border, I was not so much moved by the patriotic songs that played out, the raucous din of the audience assembled to witness the sight, or the number of people who had gathered there. It was rather the inanimate gates that defined the borders for both countries, the colours of the uniforms and emblems, the people’s motivation to cheer for their respective countries and how elegantly the garrisoned officers on both sides conducted the whole ceremony that was striking and at once, thought-provoking.

I wondered amidst the din if we had not sown the seeds of countless divisive misgivings with the partition, how easily we identified ourselves as us and therefore good and Pakistanis as them and therefore bad. We may have overpowered the British, but would the constant threat of war and tension ever leave us alone as a nation with a neighbouring country labelled as foe forever? Were we justified in calling ourselves Indians and therefore right in deriding anything that is Pakistani? The ceremony beautifully reiterates how glorious our BSF’s efforts at the borders are, how adept they are at handling the humongous responsibility on their shoulders and the fact that we might shake hands with the other country today, but we are ready and indomitable as a force if pressed upon by a threat. We have valour, pride and power on our side. We will fight till our last breath if needed but will not let a foreign entity deter our country’s able march towards progress and the future.

If we have such bravery protecting us from attack, isn’t it our duty to do all in our power to ensure what they guard is worth guarding in the first place and a genuine asset to be treasured for eons to come? But guess what, I didn’t feel proud to be an Indian at all that day because while our armed guards were putting up a show for us to prove what they do for us everyday, we were busy proving what we like to put up on show everyday ourselves through our manic habit of clicking selfies! Everywhere I looked, the crowds mostly made up of youngsters were busy clicking pics not so much of the marching infantry but themselves against this pulsating background because you see, it is more important to show off that we were there in stead of saluting those who are there day after day, come storm or hail, so that we can live our selfish lives, cloistered in our comfort zones, oblivious to what they face. So I made sure I took a picture of them with my toddler because she needs to know these heroes, these men of real mettle and perhaps one day, be able to appreciate what they mean to us. All I hope is that she is able to look beyond herself to realise this. Our freedom fighters may have left us a legacy, we are fortunate to have martial strength to preserve that legacy. How we contribute to its conservation is up to us. Time to let go off that selfie obsession then, look in to that wide angle lens and indulge in some self-introspection, may be?

And the Oscar goes to...

The Oscars are over for this year but the accompanying cacophany of applause, brickbats, jibes, jokes, gags, memes, opinion pieces and editorials seem to go on. So while everybody couldn’t stop chuckling at the last minute fuss over PwC’s mix up in announcing Best Film, you have had everything analysed from how social-media struck the PwC guy handing over the envelope backstage might be to how typography of the printed card can actually have a lot to do with the goof-up.

Among the regular reactionary pieces about the after party shenanigans and the most fashionably turned up lot at the event apart from how anti-Trump the mood of the evening actually was, emerged a strong voice with people in unison condemning  Casey Affleck’s winning Best Actor for ‘Manchester by the Sea’. Reason being the man has a history of abusing women behind him. The argument is if we are applauding people like him who are so low on morality and respect for the opposite sex, we are giving women lesser power to stand up for the wrong meted out to them. While this may sound fair enough if seen in isolation, unfortunately, there seems to be too many of such men doing the rounds in Hollywood who have let’s just say, a murky past but have shone through the walls of fame based on the might of their talent and stardom. This brings us to the question of whether the fame that these guys enjoy is in fact well-deserved. Sturdy stalwarts of good cinema like Woody Allen, Mel Gibson, Johnny Depp among several others have been alarmingly brought under the spotlight for their wayward and socially abominable acts against women. Does this mean their personally inflicted crimes should mar the compelling worth of their artistic prowess? Is it fair to deride their on-screen work that makes them literally heroic, to compensate for their off-screen profanity and misconduct? So forget acknowledging them with awards, should we stop watching their films to let them know we publicly chastise such men?

Closer home, we have had our awry band of men who have had a mean brush with the law be it Sanjay Dutt, Salman Khan and so on. These guys have other kinds of grave illegal crimes attributed to their name with Sanjay Dutt accused of even abetting terrorists while Salman has been termed a murderer for causing a road accident which led to the loss of life. They have not only faced the court but also coped with massive criticism, abhorrence and even rejection from Indians time and again for their alleged crimes for which each of them has had to serve jail term. However, this hasn’t stopped their films from becoming box-office blockbusters be it Munnabhai MBBS and Lage Raho Munnabhai for the former or Bodyguard, Dabangg, Sultan for the latter. What does this mean? Is the audience in any country more forgiving when the crimes committed happen to be perpetrated by a star or a sought-after celebrity? Have we blinded ourselves so much to their inner flaws so as to be seduced by the outwardly charismatic persona? Does this put a question mark on our sense of judgment, balance and the idea of redemption?

Let us firstly look at who exactly is a star? There are a series of people involved here that create the stardom around a given personality. The people who work with the star, those who see his film and then those who reward him for his efforts. And a whole lot of people will want to work with these men irrespective of their personal character because they are simply saleable. A lot of money goes in to making a film and if the producer doesn’t recover his share, it means he goes in to losses. People who put their sweat and blood in to any film backstage need to be compensated and that usually means one has to envision making profits even after the cost of the film is recovered. People who go to see a film care about what the character in the lead role will do in the film that will make them believe in him. They are not going to rue about the fact that he could have been a better guy in person because hell, they don’t care! These are not guys they need to sit and have lunch with everyday. All they want are three hours of entertainment and their cash’s worth. As for the jury of an awards ceremony usually made up of veterans who understand the craft better than most of us, all they are trying to do is exalt the artist who puts his best foot forward and who is able to essay a role that manages to become immemorial in the minds of the viewer.

Without many of these good artists, our films would have been hollow and we would have lost out on the richness and grandeur of their mettle. Many of these artists have worked in films that have become textbooks for younger generations, inspiring to do better with their work. So I don’t think it is as simple as merely boycotting artists when they prove to be fallible. If they fail us as men, we ought to let law takes its course. Let them be punished as per their crime and as per the gravity and intensity of what these men think they can get away with. But no awards ceremony, no die-hard fan or a work colleague can be expected to be the adjudicator of what is right and what is wrong. They are all involved with an artist for their own selfish interest and can be hardly blamed for being so. What we can do of course, is stop deifying them. Learn to look at them beyond those shiny tuxedos, with warts and all. A renowned painter may be a habitual wife-beater but that does not undermine his craftsmanship and mean we should snatch away his tools or his medals. Let us not forget that they are all humans and must face the consequences of their actions, iconic stature notwithstanding. So let us not fear pointing a finger at them when they do wrong and not look away when they err. But if they are noteworthy artists, we cannot deny them that honour either.

So yes, I will still hail Roman Polanski’s The Pianist as one of the greatest films made in the history of cinema no matter what kind of man he might be in reality. If good cinema was the consequence of being noble men, saints would stop preaching and start working on a script in all the leading studios of the world. 

The Pihu Diary: Ek, do...direct teen!

There was a time when Pihu could barely keep her eyes open for an hour straight. Then came a time when she could cross the length of the living room crawling on all fours. At age one, she was busy swinging to ‘Chittiyaan Kalaiyaan’ lounging on her rocker. At over two, her music preferences now include bits and pieces of everything- lullabies, pre-school poems, Rihanna, Justin Bieber,

Bollywood, Classical, Regional...and so on. You would think listening to the latest hindi film songs on TV would be a pretty innocuous exercise for a kid but think again. With lyrics like ‘Go Paagal’ and ‘Bloody Hell’, one has little choice but to make sure there is some self-censorship when it comes to picking up these lines. So while Pihu has almost started mouthing the lyrics of the latter, she has thankfully made up her own words along the way- so her version of the chorus goes like, ‘baji ek bell tring tring, doggy hell!’ Thank God for early signs of self-censorship I suppose.

As a pre-schooler, Pihu has her schedule down pat- get up, throw tantrum, get ready and go to school, come back, have meal and bath, play, take nap, get up, colour or doodle, watch TV till dinner time and then tuck us in. Didn’t get the last part? Well, she does and you read that right- she tucks us in! As a 2.5 year old, Pihu is more observant, caring and fastidious than most adults I know!

So she will remember if I haven’t removed my slippers before entering the bathroom. She will remind me to wear an overcoat if we are headed outside on a wintry evening because too much wind can give Mom a cold. She likes to straighten the wrinkles on my leggings or trousers if they are looking askew. She also likes to pick up a brush and mop the cupboards clean off dust whenever she can. She has made a habit of taking my empty dinner plate to the kitchen once I am done and insists I go wash my hands if I am. And when it’s time to go to bed, she first makes sure she removes her socks and shoes and then demands that I take off mine too before asking me to lie down next to her with the quilt pulled right up to the head.

We have these conversations which go very deep sometimes. It starts with probing the whereabouts of everyone she knows or remembers among her close relations. Then she goes on to analyse how one of them laughed or behaved on some occasion. She also likes recalling some fond memories on a recent holiday, naming people who she enjoyed that moment with. She likes reciting the names of her friends in school and her current equation with them. So a guy who was her supposed brother one day is no longer worthy of the same status the next. A friend who danced with her at a school party may deserve a kiss while another is only good enough for a hand shake or a push, if required.

She is not your regular social butterfly though and may even turn away when she meets you. Only people she feels secure and happy with may get close and that too, after she has approved of them. An outdoorsy person, Pihu is always up for an outing. This tiny tot has already covered seven cities last year including Sydney, Queenstown, Lucknow, Mumbai, Goa, Bhubaneshwar and Nainital and is sure exhibiting signs of an insatiable wanderlust.

She sometimes addresses me by first name when she wants my attention and it makes me wonder if she doesn’t feel like she is an adult already. Wanting to be part of adult conversations, trying to pore in to a newspaper to read what we all do and make sense of it, sorting vegetables at a local market like a pro, asking questions by the dozen at every given opportunity, pointing out every object or place she is familiar with, eating meals like a dainty grown-up...there is very little that escapes this girl, almost a clueless toddler to curious teenager in the making.

One day she wanted to know what I was wearing. So I told her, “This is my old college jersey. You will get one when you go to college. You want to go to college, don’t you?” She was quick to retort, “Yes, after I have changed my diaper.” That’s profound and punctilious rolled in to one! J

Eat, Pray, Love in Goa!

Everyone loves a good holiday. If that holiday is in Goa, that just means you are already imagining beautiful, expansive, lazy beaches where you stretch your legs out, sitting at a beach shack at Baga or Calangute, sipping on a foaming mug of chilled beer as the warm sun bathes everything in its golden glow. Not a bad picture to imagine eh? But after having been there, done that half a dozen times, I started questioning myself on my reasons to keep revisiting the place. Would it continue to serenade me with those swaying palms, languid strolls on the beach and the delectable seafare everytime I hit the shore or would there be a time when I would actually get bored of this routine touristy sojourn? So when my sister insisted we head down there once again to introduce her husband to the beach haven for the first time, I knew what he typically needed to check out. But since I was to accompany them, I wondered what would charm me in to packing my bags and sauntering towards that sunset again. So began my research where I started trying to unearth places and sights I wanted my traveller’s eye to feast on this time. This is what I unravelled. Let’s just say, the trip made me fall in love with Goa all over again.

When you are heading to Goa, the first thing you do is check in to a hotel near the happening beaches. Well, the first offbeat thing we did was to lodge at Mayem Lake View, a GTDC property in mid-town Bicholim. Neatly esconsced amongst pretty little hamlets with a spattering of Konkan, Christian and Muslim dwellers and long winding roads, this resort gives you a surprisingly scenic view of the sprawling Mayem Lake. With well over 50 beaches to offer, Goa tourism promotions often don’t do justice to the holiday destination’s lakes and rivers. For us, this was just the kind of cosy nest we had in mind when we were looking for a place to stash the kids. Mayem not only offered us spacious, old-world style cottages on a hill top with a balcony that joined the two rooms we booked, the in-house chef served awesome seafood, read prawn masala, kingfish fry and chicken fried rice. We washed all this down with generous doses of whisky, beer, rum and breezers on the first night, ravenous as we were after the journey from the airport to the resort. Through the next few days, regular dine-out places wherever we went travelling, served us spicy platters of prawn balchao, crab chilli, chicken vindaloo, chorizo and bombil fry washed down with Sex on the Beach and Mojitos. A sumptuous Indo-western fusion lunch at the Kapriz restaurant, Baga was about the authentic Konkani prawn curry, chicken deeply marinated with a rich coconut base and fish fingers with tartar sauce. And of course, when you are by the beach, how can you miss out on the seafood spread by the beach shacks. We ended our last night at one by the Vagator Beach. This trip was a foodie’s paradise alright with the chance discovery of Bodega, a tony al fresco cafe in Panjim that is nestled inside the Sunaparanta Centre for the Arts. To our delight, the friendly owner of the cafe actually treated us to some yummy red velvet cupcakes to compensate for the chaos in the order delivery during the busy afternoon. She didn’t need to take the effort as the Mutton Shakshouka with Fried Eggs, Chicken Mole with Scallion rice and Tomato, Fries infused with Parsley and Garlic, Waffles with Nutella and banana and Chicken burgers definitely took care of our appetite for the day. Don’t miss the delish Chocolate Milk Shake and Mixed Berry Smoothie if you go there for brunch some day. Enthusiastic tea lovers may want to sample some exotic teas at the Wagh Bakri lounge at Panjim as well. It’s sure worth a cuppa.

If food is not what gets your fancy, there is a multi-faceted Goa waiting for you to unfold its layers. So road tripping for us was not about beach spotting. Rather, it was an earnest exploration of its magnificient history and geography- spotted with forts, waterfalls, bird sanctuaries, caves and churches. Whether you are an agnostic or someone who swears by his prayer beads, the ancient churches of Goa ring a different bell. The sheer architectural marvel and elegance that the Basilica of Bom Jesus exhibits or the grandeur of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception Church, these are sights that will remain with you forever. What invites the gaze of the curious tourist is of course the sacred remains of the exalted St.Francis Xavier, famed for his missionary sojourn across India, resting peacefully in his ornate tomb at the Basilica. Notwithstanding this slightly spooky idea of preservation of mortal remains way past their time on earth, churches have always held a special place in my heart even as someone who is a Hindu by birth. Without offending Hindu pilgrimages, churches  or at least the ones I have been to are devoid of haggling vendors, intrusive priests and bustling crowds of devotees jostling for space with their overloaded baskets of offerings. As someone who has been to most of the renowned piligrimage destinations of India, I have never felt an iota of devotion at any of them mainly because of these unwanted elements. We landed at the steps of Immaculate Conception soon after Christmas so that the kids got a good view of a gigantic crib complete with a gurgling baby Jesus and live ducks, and a troupe of Disney characters singing Merry Christmas in tow!  Host to several film shoots with its towering facade in the background, this church also holds a special romantic memory of my last meeting with my life partner when we parted ways during a work trip to Goa before we started dating.

Personal anecdotes aside, nature in its full bounty awaited us as we lapped up the greenery on the numerous ferry trips we made across the rivers in Goa. The Salim Ali Bird Sactuary packs in several rare species of birds for the beholder. An unexpected sight of nature in a tizzy was at the entrance of Reis Magos Fort in Bardez, where we saw a parasitic banyan stump a poor coconut tree in order to strenghten its foundation. Expansive views of the sea greet the visitor at this fort. Documented within this structure is a chronological dateline capturing the numerous invasions and change of guard that Goa has been through to finally become an Indian state in 1987. A wooden replica of the fort also helps one realise the strategic insights that its builders had in mind while fortifying the structure. What piqued my interest in this fort was its versatile phases, having served as a defence fortress, jail and hospital over the centuries since 1493. Late venerated artist Mario Miranda who incidentally played a significant role to aid the fort’s restoration has a room reserved to himself where his flamboyant art finds expression on mugs, stationery, tees, antiques, wall pieces and so on. Characteristic animated picturisations of Goan life, culture and society are evoked through his brilliant work. We couldn’t help ourselves to shopping here especially when we heard that the money from our spend would go towards the fort’s preservation. Our previous stop before this had been another surprise discovery of Arvalem Waterfall near Sanquelim, in close proximity to the Rudreshwar Temple. The gushing water drops from a height of 50 metres, to form a splendid lake which is a favourite spot for those in the mood for a dip or a bout of fishing. Giving a glimpse of archeological heritage at Arvalem are the eponymous caves also known as the Pandava Caves dating back to a jaw-dropping 6^th century. Steeped in mythological essence, the five distinct caves were said to provide sanctum sanctorum to the Pandavas while in exile. Despite the stoic presence of Shivlingas cut out of laterite rocks within the caves, their origins are often traced to Buddhist influence. Talk about historical intrigue!

Did our four day trip leave any room for beaches at all after all these exciting wanderings of a different kind? Yes, of course but again, we looked to beaches that were quieter, cleaner, sparsely populated and a sight to behold at the same time. Tall order if you are in Goa in the peak of tourist season, on the brink of New Year’s Eve. We managed this as well, opting for the mersmerising beaches of Vagator and Sinquerim. Even our most typical touristy part of the trip, the Indo-Pacific Humpback dolphin sighting cruise saw us hopping on to the one from Miramar beach which also gave us a good look at the Fort Aguada Jail underground and Parsi entrepreneur Jimmy Gazdar aka Jimmy Millionaire’s palatial home. Designed to be a phantasmagoric blend of architectural manifestations of Europe, it is apparently replete with 16 bedrooms. Opulence-personified indeed!

But what we took back from this trip were humble memories of vast green fields, tranquil rivers and a dense cultural confluence existing in perfect harmony. So what am I doing on my next visit to Goa- lunch at a spice plantation, visit to a model Portuguese house, staycation in a rented apartment or an ecoresort may be, a walk through the forests in South Goa and a stop over at the colonial mansions of Chandor village! Who knows! I might just take off on a hunt for Goa’s most haunted house or the best place for Goan sausages!! Do yourself a favour and dig up your own new reason to head there next time.