Free Burma!

Today international bloggers are preparing an action to support the peaceful revolution in Burma. They want to set a sign for freedom and show their sympathy for these people who are fighting their cruel regime without weapons. Today bloggers around the world are refraining from posting to their blogs and are just putting up a banner with the words "Free Burma!".

I have been following events in Burma for a long time and am concerned about the harsh political situation, the massive abuse of human rights and the continued detention of Aung San Suu Kyi who was democratically elected in 1989 and has been under house arrest almost continuously since.

To show your support and find more information on the Free Burma! campaign visit their website: www.free-burma.org

Not just a dupatta

This beautiful photo is by Lakshmi Prabhala.

I love Indian clothes. They’re so colourful, comfortable and classy. The sari is of course probably the best-known Indian garment, but nowadays it’s mostly worn by older women or on special or formal occasions. Most young Indian women prefer to wear salwaar kameez, a long tunic worn over loose trousers. To complete the ensemble, the long scarf-like dupatta is draped over the shoulders and down the back. The purpose of the dupatta is to ‘preserve a woman’s modesty’, but I’ve discovered that this very versatile garment serves other perhaps more practical purposes.

The dupatta is not only a fashion accessory; it’s also a protective shield for the face and head from the sun, rain and wind. It becomes a shawl during the chilly monsoon evenings, or if I’m in a place where the air-conditioning is on full power. It’s also serves as a bed sheet on sleeper trains; or it can double as a blanket, or folded to make a little soft pillow. It becomes a scarf that keeps my neck warm when I’m coming down with a cold. It’s an excellent mosquito swatter. It can also be used as a towel or sarong at the beach. These are only some of the multiple uses for this simple piece of clothing. Now I know why Indian woman don’t leave home without it!

Photo essay: Bangalore's city market

Ganesh Chaturthi

Above: Ganesh statues for sale.

Ganesh has been keeping me up at night. Yes, Lord Ganesha, the elephant god. Last Saturday was Ganesh Chaturthi, a national holiday in his honour – but little did I know that the festivities would last the whole week... Every evening I’ve been kept awake by noisy processions, loud drumming, fireworks and brash music coming from the main road.

It started late on the Thursday night leading up to the holiday when I was woken up by loud cheering and shouting in our usually quiet and sleepy street. I looked out my bedroom window to see a huge two-storey high Ganesh statue moving past the house! The next morning I saw that the statue had been erected on a makeshift stage at the end of the street. A large curtain was covering the face of the idol.

Above: Preparing for the festivities. The Ganesh statue is in the background hidden by a curtain.

Walking around the city with a friend on Saturday afternoon, we came across several other equally gigantic statues. It seems that each locality had it’s own. In one neighbourhood, we saw locals decorating and garlanding the idol and stage in preparation for the festivities which would start that evening with the unveiling of the statue. Children dressed in their finest followed us around with curious looks and shy smiles. When my friend pulled out her camera, a little girl timidly asked: “Auntie, photo?” As she and her friends proudly posed for the camera they were suddenly joined by other neighbourhood children and soon a small crowd was yelling “Auntie!! Auntie!! Photo!!” When they saw their images mirrored back to them on the LCD screen they screeched and laughed with delight. A tall, visibly drunk man stumbled up to us and struck a pose for the camera with a goofy grin. “Don’t mind him, he’s drunk. He’s an ex-military man,” a young man apologetically informed us. The drunk staggered away before letting us know that we should come back in the evening to see him “dance for Ganesha”.

In the weeks leading up to the holiday, Ganesh statues of various sizes and colours were on sale on almost every street corner. Each family buys a statue to take home and offer prayers to. Ganesh is a very popular god all over India. Prayers are offered to Ganesh as the Lord of auspicious beginnings and the remover of obstacles before starting any kind of undertaking. Statues of Ganesh are often found in the doorways of houses or businesses and in temples.

Above: My neighbours' Ganesh statue decorated specially for the occasion.

On Saturday evening we went to see what was happening at the end of the street. The huge statue was already unveiled and a small crowd watched as a magician in a top hat entertained them. A woman stepped into a tall wooden crate. When the door was shut we could only see her face and hands through the cut-outs. The magician then proceeded to slide metal plates through the crate (and seemingly through the woman). This was taking some time and in the meantime the crowd started to dwindle as loud drumming and shouting coming from the main road roused peoples’ curiosity more than a women being cut into pieces. A gigantic Ganesha statue was coming down the main road accompanied by loud drumming and a frenetic crowd of men dancing wildly. Once in a while they stopped to set off firecrackers.

On the third day following the feast day, the huge statues were led in processions to various lakes and other bodies of water of the city where they were immersed. A neighbour told me she simply dunks her statue into a bucket of water instead. She explained that the water then becomes sacred and instead of emptying it into the street, she uses it to water her plants. Another neighbour told me her sons take their family idol to Ulsoor Lake where a section has been cordoned off specially for this purpose. When I asked her why women don’t do this, she said it’s because Ganesh was a brahmachari (unmarried). My landlords told me they don’t have a tradition of celebrating this festival because in Kerala, where they come from, it’s not as popular as in other states.

Above: Drumming for Ganesh. (Photo courtesy of Sandra Evrard.)

The procession of huge Ganeshas continued all week. The police cordoned off roads to let them pass. Even heavy rain did not deter the crowds and the loud drumming, chanting, music and fireworks. Last night the noise and ruckus seemed to end earlier than the other nights. Tonight I’m hoping to get a good night of sleep!

A heavenly perfume

Now that the monsoon season is almost over, it feels like spring to me. Temperatures are rising again and the trees and plants seem even greener and lush thanks to the daily rain showers they’ve received. The plants on my terrace have grown by at least a foot. And all of a sudden there’s a heavenly smell in the air… I discovered that this divine perfume was coming from a tree down the street.

A smell can take you back to somewhere you’ve been before. In this case it was Pondicherry and La Marsa.

I thought maybe it was honeysuckle but wasn’t sure. Then I got the answer from a short article in Thursday’s paper.

This enchanting perfume comes from the Ylang Ylang or Canaga Odorata, a flower of the Canaga tree. These yellow flowers have six long stem-like petals which fall to the ground creating a scented carpet. These fragrant flowers are used to produce perfumes and essential oils.

Though I can easily bring you the colours, sights and sounds of India via the Internet, smells are a bit more challenging. So just close your eyes and imagine a sweet, heavenly perfume and you’ll be instantly transported to a tiny corner of Bangalore.

Bangalore's disappearing bungalows

People like to talk about what Bangalore used to be like before the IT boom, before the Indian economy’s growth spurt. And I like to hear about what the city was like in another time. I imagine it was a lot like it is now but with less traffic, pollution, noise and fewer construction sites. I also imagine more trees and bungalows set in scenic gardens. My friend Ranjini told me that when she used to spend her summers in Bangalore as a child with her grandparents, there were no traffic jams and no pollution. She described driving along Bangalore’s tree-lined roads as picturesque. The family used to go on long Sunday drives just for the pleasure of it. Driving in Bangalore today is not very scenic or pleasurable. You don’t venture out on the roads unless you have to, and then you try to avoid rush hour traffic. She also described the beautiful colonial bungalows set in flower-filled gardens which were characteristic of the city at the same. Sadly there are few examples left of these old, charming houses. These have given way to apartment blocks and gated communities with 24-hour security, power back up and unlimited water supply.

Luckily I live in a neighbourhood that still has tree-lined streets and one- or two-storey houses but I can see signs of how it’s been changing over the past few years. Just a few streets away, one road has been completely taken over by apartment buildings and more are being built as I write this. I can understand that many homeowners are tempted to tear down their houses and sacrifice their gardens to build an apartment building which will bring in a very generous income thanks to the city’s property boom. But this trend is ruining the city’s landscape. Does urban planning exist here? I would hope so. But seeing how things are going it makes me wonder. I also suspect that if there are urban planning rules and regulations in place maybe they’re often overlooked by the authorities in exchange for a hefty ‘tip’ from the developers.

Everywhere I go in Bangalore I hear the sounds of hammers, drilling, electric saws. New buildings and additions to existing houses are being built everywhere I look. Construction sites are scattered all over the city. In the space of a few days, houses literally disappear – to be replaced by the skeleton of a new construction which is then built in almost no time at all. Almost every week, while walking through the neighbourhood, I pass yet another 1960’s style bungalow being hacked, hammered and battered by the chisels, picks and hammers of demolition workers smashing windows, breaking down walls and destroying the foundations (and souls) of these old houses that are making way for the new. This demolition work is all done by hand – in India people are still cheaper than machines. The debris is then carried away by peasant women dressed in colourful saris while their children play nearby. I’m fascinated by these women and can’t help but watch as they effortlessly balance heavy metal plates full of the fragments of these old houses on their heads. (They seem to be equally fascinated by me because they often stop in their tracks and stare back at me in curiosity.) Young girls also do this work alongside their mothers. I’ve also seen pregnant women working on construction sites. The workers are brought in by developers from neighbouring villages and sometimes even from other states. They sleep on-site in tents or in the new buildings once the foundations have been laid. In the mornings I see them preparing their breakfast, brushing their teeth, bathing their children. Laundry is strung in the gaps where windows will be. Once the new construction site is complete, they move to another site, another building, another job.

The second sex

I was saddened to read this morning that Hina Fathima has died. I’ve been following her story in the papers since she was the victim of a vicious acid attack almost two weeks ago. The perpetrator was her husband who forced her to drink acid, burnt her eyes with cigarettes and threw acid on her face and body. She was admitted to hospital suffering from burns covering 80% of her body. She died of her burns in hospital yesterday.

Hina was the victim of dowry harassment. Not satisfied with the 20,000 Rs dowry payment her parents gave him at the time of their marriage nine years ago, her husband has been demanding that her parents pay him more money and buy him a motorcycle. When his demands were not met, he tormented and tortured Hina. Eventually he killed her.

Marriage seems to be a high price to pay for many women in India. In 2001, 7000 women were killed by their husbands or in-laws because they wanted more dowry. Many cases of ‘dowry death’ or ‘bride burning’ are not even registered because they’re often reported as accidents or ‘suicides’. Here is one example of an alleged suicide in an article I clipped from the newspaper recently. (Note the use of words like ‘allegedly’ and ‘reportedly’ and ‘suicide’ in quotation marks.)

Woman commits suicide

Anitha (20), who was married less than a year ago, allegedly committed suicide near Upparpet colony here on Monday night.

She reportedly poured kerosene on her body and set herself ablaze. Demand for more dowry from her husband Chandru (25) and in-laws is alleged to be the reason for her “suicide”.

Following a complaint lodged by Hanumantharayappa, father of the deceased, the police have arrested Chandru, his parents Nagappa and Gowramma, and sisters Jayamma and Shalini on charge of harassing Anitha for dowry.

Unfortunately similar stories appear in the papers on a regular basis.

Since 1961, it is illegal to ask for, pay or accept a dowry payment in India. Yet this practice, like many of India’s other greatest social evils which have been outlawed (like child labour and the caste system), still persists. The payment of a dowry at marriage is a great financial burden on parents and this is one reason they are reluctant to have daughters. Sex determination tests for pregnant women are against the law – but illegal ultrasound tests are available. Female foetuses are then aborted. Female infanticide is also a persistent problem: half a million baby girls are killed in India every year.

Simone de Beauvoir said that women are the ‘second’ sex. This is generally true but especially poignant in a country where girls and women have little value: unwanted female foetuses and baby girls are aborted or left to die, and women are burnt alive by greedy husbands and in-laws.