Friday, November 7, 2014

Children in small town India

Children have the ability to entertain themselves. They are still immune to the diktats of social mores. This quality allows them to remain still, create something from scrap and find joy in things that older people have discarded.

On my 6 month trip through 76 towns I had many opportunities to see children.

A boy watching the waves with a crow for company in Bhimunipatinam
This was before the time of the cell phone, where the world was still their oyster. Where their skills to build had to do with creating pieces of value instead of reaching the next level of some game on their (or their parent's) phone.

A scooter without wheels and a seat is still a thing of interest.

A young boy and girl sitting amongst fishing boats in Tranquebar

Children body surfing with planks of wood in Tranquebar

Children with flotation devices built by them in Byet Dwarka.
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Samir Nazareth is the author of '1400 Bananas, 76 Towns & 1 Million People'. Read an excerpt of the book here. Read more about the book here. The book is currently available as an Ebook on Amazon here, Scribd here  and on GooglePlay here . The hard copy will be out in February 2015.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Rameshwaram

The holy town of Rameshwaram is an island. The significance of the railway bridge that connects the island to the mainland can be seen inside the Ramanathaswamy temple. This was one of the 76 towns  that I visited on my 6 month trip through the Indian coast. 
A street scene with the temple in the background.


In Rameshwaram, I found a place to stay near the Ramanathaswamy temple. I did not know that it was also close to the fishing pier too. The realisation first hit my nostrils. It was here that I met some kar sevaks and also got to know of a Gurudwara here where a family member of Guru Gobind Singh is interred.
The tide is very low here and one can walk quite far into sea.
One of the peculiarities of this place is the low tidal plain which allows people to walk quite far into sea. This also allows pilgrims to bathe in the sea without the worry of drowning. That is the reason why this place has bathing ghats. The stairs that lead to sea also become places where priests sit waiting for devotees to ask them to perform rituals


An old priest waiting under the umbrella.

The Ramanathaswamy temple houses one of the 12 Jyotirlingas and is therefore a very important pilgrimage spot. The temple also has 22 wells at which the faithful bathe. For those who have been to the Ramanathaswamy temple did you look at the ceiling? For those going to this holy temple please look at the ceiling and for those not planning to go to this temple my book '1400 Bananas, 76 towns &1 Million people' gives you the reason why the ceilings are a must.


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Samir Nazareth is the author of '1400 Bananas, 76 Towns & 1 Million People'. Read an excerpt of the book here. Read more about the book here. The book is currently available as an Ebook on Amazon here, Scribd here  and on GooglePlay here . The hard copy will be out in February 2015.

Friday, October 31, 2014

Streets of small town India

On my 6 month journey through  #76towns I spent all my time on the streets of these towns. I would wake up grab a snack and a bunch of bananas and head out. Through the day I would walk, stopping to speak to people, spending time on life altering decisions like whether I should  turn right or left.  Streets take on the identity of their surroundings - they can become shopping areas, they can become places of rest. Sometimes the streets are so large in small town India that people are not too sure what to do with the space. One sign of progress of a town is when hoardings begin to appear on streets.

A street in Malvan. This small town is known for its cuisine.

For some reason when I see these trucks I am reminded of elephants

A street in Karwar, on the west coast of India

A street in Thirussur, in front of the basilica

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Samir Nazareth is the author of the book '1400 Bananas, 76 Towns & 1 Million People' The book is currently available as an Ebook on Amazon here, Scribd here  and on GooglePlay here . The hard copy will be out in February 2015.

Friday, October 17, 2014

An Irani Cafe in Mumbai


Abdul knew how to make a glass of sweet & salty fresh lime water. He would bring a glass of sugared fresh lime water to the table and then use the salt shaker. As he shook some salt out of the shaker he would say 'Lime water sweet and salty'.
The interiors of the cafe, Monroe and the Titanic share space.

The catholic menu

Abdul worked in the Irani cafe close to where I am currently staying. He was from Uttar Pradesh and had been working at this cafe for the last 30 years. As soon as we sat in the cafe he came to take our orders. But we were more interested in its décor. 'Take your time' he said in Hindi and left, he came to our table twice before we placed our order. After the décor time was spent going through the menu which seemed to be as catholic as the owners beliefs.

Sai Baba hangs out with two founding fathers.

Everything from an 'Irani Wrestler Omelette' a five egg dish, which Abdul said would have us shaking in our chairs if we ate it, to Maggi Noodles transmogrified into something more edible. It was all there on the menu slipped between the table and its glass top.
Irani Specialities

Every religious place has a unofficial place for hedonism close bye. I am told that the Catholics who visit the Don Bosco church on sunday visit this Irani cafe for breakfast post their spiritual meal. One has spoken about man's inability to live on just love and fresh air but it seems that spiritual food is not the manna which sustains.


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Samir Nazareth is the author of '1400 Bananas, 76 Towns & 1 Million People'. Read an excerpt of the book here. Read more about the book here

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

My travelogue '1400 Bananas, 76 towns & 1 million people' is out

In 2005 i travelled through the Indian coast, starting at what I think is the Northwestern most tip of the Indian coast I went down the west coast and then up the east coast ending up in Nathu La in the Himalayas 6 months later.

I visited #76towns. The 6 month journey was fuelled by approximately #76bananas.

I met a range of people from priests to the lay person. I slept in seedy hotels, on roofs. I travelled cheap too.

I discussed a range of issues my singledom to ways to solve the Pakistan 'problem' with the people I met.

The book can be bought on Amazon here. You dont need to own a kindle. There is a free app that can be downloaded for non-kindle users who would like to read the book on their smart phones, laptops or tablets.


Sunday, August 10, 2014

Even after 60 years



The 'even after 60 years' argument is something that has come up in the last few years in India. The argument made is that not much has happened, socio-economically, in India since its independence in 1947. This show of disaffection is usually made by the erudite in their well appointed homes as the discussion veers on what the Congress I has done since Nehru and what the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) will do with Modi. Those propounding this argument cannot see the incongruity staring in their face as they make these arguments. Simple things – they own more than one car, they live in well appointed homes, they holiday abroad, their work takes them abroad, the food and drink that they serve comes from varied parts of the nation and the world, they are able to translate their concern for the environment and for the downtrodden into something tangible.

This in 60 years! Okay 67 years.

The 60 year argument would have held water if it were being put forth by one of the many millions who are poor in India. They have a grouse which no one can deny – they are still poor, their access to facilities is still limited, their future does not seem to be in their grasp. But for the others, 'what is curdling their milk'?

So why does this argument  have takers? There are many reasons, the ones that appear to be most prominent are – comparisons with developed nations, loss of traditional social structures, arguments that make initial superficial sense and historical grandiosity.

Comparisons with developed nations and others
The fact that we are a product (or are reaping the benefits) of what India as a country has achieved socially, educationally, technologically and politically in '60 years' is conveniently forgotten. We also are oblivious that it is these socio-economic achievements that have given people the wherewithal to compare the country's progress with other nations.

Comparisons are made to Singapore, China, South Korea and even to the US. One chooses to forget that these nations are either smaller, have different forms of political-economies, are homogeneous or have had a century or more of a head start.

This desire 'to keep up with the Joneses' is less to do with what the Joneses have achieved. It has to do with a belief of being at par with them in the ability, opportunity and situational section. So, the resentment is of not being able to achieve what the other has achieved, of falling short and being embarrassed when they compare themselves to others.

It is human nature to build on small successes. It is also human to inflate ability and therefore be ambitious and so reach for the stars. A taste of economic growth whets our appetite for more. That we have learned to 'walk' gives rise to our belief that there is an untapped potential to immediately be able to leap. This supposed ability is made all the more real when comparisons are made with those who we think have grown out of the same miasma as we and who are now fleet-footed.

People accept arguments that make initial superficial sense
I came to realise the potency of such arguments when discussing the healthcare system in India. The person said that the healthcare system immediately post independence was far better than what it is today. Who would argue with such an observation when debating India's sixty years? On the face of it, it sounds true; not only because I wasnt there to experience the healthcare system then, but also because this statement was coming from an expert . Not to mention the constant news of the floundering public health care system in the country adding a ring of truth to the possibility that the past was rosier. After having recovered from this googly, the unspoken truth emerges, the population was less, the variety of diseases were fewer, the avenues for disease were less - there was no such thing as 'lifestyle diseases'. But the life expectancy then was around 32 years, children died of small pox and thousands were infected with guinea worm while polio marred the future of millions.

Hmmmm! The fact that life expectancy has increased to 65 if not more today, or that polio and small pox have been eradicated suggests something; doesn't it?

There is no doubt that much has yet to be done, but just because much has to be done one cant ignore what has been accomplished.


Historical grandiosity and loss of traditional class structures
Some Indians love to live and promote the historical past, because there is no way to corroborate it. It gives those expounding on it limitless liberty to wax eloquent. It is easy to enchant people with the spell of the past and of regaining this lands lost 'glory' because there is no set definition of it. There is no list of requirements that have to be ticked to arrive to the conclusion and certify that the glory of the past has now been achieved. So people are sucked into one large amorphous “the ruler was just and kind, the subjects were good and fair, the economy was rich, the population was skilled and happy and there was peace and contentment.”

This seems to be a wonderland when compared to today -where people oppose dynastic politics, where the hold of the oppressive and rigid caste system has been shattered through education, where people demand their rights and more, where the poor can become rich, where the seemingly powerless have a hold on the powerful, where there are no subjects but citizens.

There is little wonder that the progress of the 60 years leaves some disconcerted and they wish to sell a version of history where they will be safe.

Can we deny how feudal our democratic country is? It is not only seen by the swords given to our politicians during public rallies, but also in how we address citizens whose forefathers belonged to the feudal set, even if these citizens are democratically elected representatives today.

The past which we are so proud of and cling so dearly to because our ancestors held positions of status is no longer relevant today. Democracy is giving everybody equal rights, today we are all accountable to somebody, we can no longer dictate terms and expect servility in response. The class system that held back people while ensuring others remained in positions of power is being broken.

The stranglehold of lineage is being demolished, and therefore the angst of 'even after 60 years'. Equality does not bring with it equanimity of acceptance of a new social order.

Economic growth leads to a churning of the social order, it will make the past seem more enchanting to some. The truth is if the past, sold disingenuously to generate disaffection, were so rosy it would have remained with us in the present as a reality and not as a construct of someone's uncorroborated memory.

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Look out for my soon to be published travelogue ’1400 bananas, 76 towns and 1 million people'

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Marriages in Goa



I can claim to be an expert on the Goan marriage, I have been to the altar thrice, but the bells have pealed to herald another’s wedding. The chimes have got nothing to do with the rationale of giving the sobriquet of Bestman to the person not marrying. Being a Bestman has given me an opportunity to be part of Goan weddings without having to bear the ring of the aftermath.

A Goan marriage is not made in heaven; it’s the sum of many choices, parts and roles. Though choosing a mate is key, there are many other crossroads like creating the right religious ceremony, venue choice, menu selection for the reception, the music and the ambience.  It takes family veterans to pull this off.
If love hasn’t blinded and beguiled the eligible women and men to the altar, families step in. Photographs of the prospective bride/groom are made and distributed to match – makers with a CV and a brief on what the family is looking for. They are not official marriage bureaus, but members of society interested in repaying the favour, usually housewives or retired women, with a few males.

Match-makers have a genius to file and extricate information.  Their elephantine memory reaches back in time to get details for possible matches. Like putting together a jig-saw puzzle, they pick up snippets like family background, education, ambition, willingness to relocate, etc., to find the right fit. On finding something suitable the match-maker informs both sides. With the surfeit of information provided in the CV’s combined with the photo, families begin making discrete enquiries about each other to verify each other’s credentials. If all things align a meeting is arranged between the boy and girl by the matchmaker or the boy’s family.

In Goa these meetings are held at the coffee shop of Hotel Mandovi. Old fashioned families send a chaperone along with the girl or her parent’s get a discrete table. The choice of place shows the level of detail that goes into the matchmaking process. The place is spacious and service slow and unobtrusive.
If the tinder shows combustibility the couple spend time peeling the layers trying to get to know each other. Sightings of the couple at feasts are portentous. The engagement is announced and the party is hosted by the girl’s family, it is a family affair – food and alcohol are at their best, served on family cutlery passed down through generations. Rings are exchanged; the couple blushingly oblige a kiss under peer pressure.

This lip-lock heralds the next stage which is the planning for the wedding. Hidden in the mundane of choosing party halls, sifting through invitee lists and  comparing menus of other marriages and those offered by caterers are esoteric decisions like gospel readings  for the service;  decorations for the church and hall; heights of the flower girls and page boys; and   attire. All occasions for the couple’s first major fight.

There is the usual fracas of the bridal gown, never has so much money and tears flowed for a piece of cloth that will be worn for a few hours.  Things are practical for the groom as a suit can be worn for different occasions. A few days before the wedding each family has the Roas, a Goan version of a haldi ceremony. Konkani songs are sung and the elders of the family bless the boy/girl.
On the Day, relatives gather in the respective houses where a meal is spread and eaten while clothes are ironed, babies bathed and last minute decisions made; in one room beauticians add finishing touches to the ladies. Things swing between chaos and calm. Men who have been through this winepress remember their big day; sharing horror stories. The groom is immune. An official photographer shuttles between the houses photographing pre-decided poses.

The decorated church is now filled with people and the groom waiting for the bride. Not many know the hymns as the nuptials are made special by choosing those rarely sung. This need for ceremonial uniqueness is a ritual followed by everybody. Ultimately, there are commonalities – couples offer, at the altar, things which are dear to them accompanied by a brief explanation. All offer a model of a house (the design will differ) with the prayer for a happy home, the Bible for a prayerful family etc. These can lead to bloopers; for a lawyer’s wedding a copy of the Indian Constitution was offered with the statement that they would ‘try to uphold it in their practise’.

Once the mass is over, people head for the reception joining those who gave the nuptials a miss. The hired MC checks the mike while the band tunes their instruments. The bride and groom go for a short ride in their bedecked car to ensure that they enter to a packed hall.

The band strikes up the ‘Bridal March’ and the couple enter, followed by their proud parents and relatives. They end up at the centre where an elaborate cake has been set up under a larger version of the centre piece. The MC cracks a few recognisable jokes.  The cake is cut and the centre piece is manipulated to shower the couple with confetti.

A toast to the couple is raised by a close friend or a family member. The groom does not bat an eyelid as skeletons tumble out of the closet to everyone’s delight.  The groom replies, which now includes a vote of thanks to the caterers and band, the Bride also pipes in.

The newly wed couple take the floor for the first dance to a song specially chosen by them.  For flawlessness, the couple would have practised their steps before,   the parents and then everyone else joins in. The music for the evening, like the attires of the guests, varies from modern to the old.

Snacks include – croquettes, elfin sized rainbow sandwiches, rissois- prawn savouries, cheese toasties etc. The bar does service to the Goan’s love for a good tipple.

The buffet table reflects the Goan’s secular palate. Representatives from various hooved and Piscean species share space with the fowl. The much loved pig comes into its own here; a roasted piglet, dishes like Sorpotel and Cabidela indicate the versatility of this animal vilified in Orwell’s Animal Farm. Salted tongue, rice, Goan bread, prawn curry; Chicken Xacuti find place.  There are North Indian vegetarian and recognisable continental dishes.

Desserts include Bebinca, a multilayered egg yolk based sweet; Letria, which is egg based; Dedos-de-Dama, coconut based; san rival, which uses almonds; and Burnt Custard pudding.  The North is also represented.  In the hurly burly the Matchmaker is quietly thanked and introduced to other families. She also keeps her eyes open for the eligible.

Things wind down by 12. The bride and groom finally have a chance to sit; someone brings leftovers from the buffet for them. It does provide an indication of what life has in store for them – there will be many opportunities for them but only some will finally make it to their plate.


(Lookout for my soon to be published travelogue ’1400 bananas, 76 towns and 1 million people)