Pottery town

Recently I had the chance to explore Pottery Town, a small neighbourhood in Bangalore, made up of only a few streets, where potters work and live. Two dozen families live here, where this traditional trade is passed on from one generation to the next. There is always a high demand for pottery – especially during the festival season. The potters make traditional clay lamps, water pots, cups, flower pots, vases, candle holders and statues of gods. Pots or all shapes and sizes are piled up in front of houses, along the roads and in entrance ways of the potter’s small houses.

Rows of diyas (lamps) are laid out carefully on wooden planks and left out to dry in the hot sun on the roofs or anywhere there is space.

A potter at work at his wheel.

During the Ganesh Chaturthi festival, 600,000 idols of the elephant-god are made here!

Moulds are used to make the statues. Ganesha's trunk is added later! The final touch is a bright coat of paint.

Most of the rooms of the potters' houses are filled with idols! Ganesh Chaturthi is over six months away, but the potters are already stocking up...

Statues of Gowri in the living room...

Huge Ganeshas wrapped up and waiting for the big day.

Music is meditation

Last summer I spent some time in Paris with friends I had met in Chennai (Madras) who are also fans of Indian classical dance and music. I asked them if they had seen any performances in Paris where a lot of Indian artists perform regularly. “Ah non,” was their reply. “After experiencing the music and dance festival in Madras, we can’t bear to watch a performance in Paris. It’s just not the same!”

It’s true. Chennai has a special atmosphere during the music season. But if I could choose between watching an artist perform in an Indian auditorium or a Parisian one, I would definitely choose the latter.

While in the West there are many unwritten rules governing concert etiquette including when you can enter the auditorium (lateness is not tolerated), where you can sit and even when to applaud, these do not apply in India. Here rules are to be broken and seat numbers to be ignored.

A good thing is that you don’t have to worry about being on time. Being late is very fashionable. You can walk in and out of the auditorium at any time during the performance, so there is no need to rush to reach the venue on time.

If you spot a free seat in the front row, don’t assume this is your good luck. The first row is reserved for VIPs like politicians, chief guests, sponsors or senior artists. VIPs are always late and will always be ushered into a front row seat. I have witnessed many oblivious foreigners happily plopping down in a front row seat only to be unceremoniously ejected when the minister finally arrived.

The front row’s VIP status often commands more attention than what’s going on onstage. Hushed voices exclaim: “Look! It’s so-and-so!” Indeed, concerts are great opportunities for people watching, and people come not only to see but to be seen.

Once the musicians are seated on the stage, they tune their instruments. This can take some time. An instrument like the sitar has 21 strings to tune. Also, musicians are rarely happy with the sound, especially percussionists. Each will demand that the volume be turned up for his instrument. This becomes a game: who can get the most volume? The lead musician has to ultimately act as referee to avoid a sound explosion (and make sure he is the one who is best heard!). As a result, the volume at concerts is quite high. Earplugs come in handy!

It’s also a good idea to take a shawl or sweater. This is one contradiction about India that I still have not understood. Though locals complain of ‘freezing temperatures’ as soon as the mercury falls under 25°C outside, they have no complaints about sitting in an air-conditioned auditorium which feels more like the inside of a freezer.

During the performance, your powers of concentration will be tested. Even though there is always a request to the audience to switch off mobile phones, a phone (or two, or three) will inevitably ring during the performance. You will then have the chance to listen in to your neighbour’s telephone conversation.

If you’re not sure which raga is being played onstage, don’t worry: your neighbour will fill you in on what’s happening, even if you don’t ask. Once while watching a dance drama the elderly man next to me was giving me a play-by-play report of everything happening on stage. “Moon,” he announced when a dancer appeared on stage carrying a large round cut-out overhead. “Next sun will come!” he informed me. Sure enough, the next dancer appeared with… a sun!

Concerts can be very long. Just an alap can easily go on for an hour. All-night concerts are popular. Applause tends to be minimal and curtain calls or standing ovations rare. But Indian audiences have other ways to express their appreciation. If you see someone vigorously shaking his head from side to side and making a clicking noise with his tongue it may look like he is unhappy about something (the volume level maybe – or the mobile phone ringing behind him?). Actually it’s exactly the opposite: this means he’s enjoying the music! You may hear someone yell “waa waa” or “shabas!”. Music lovers also like to keep time with the rhythm by loudly tapping the tala on their knees.

My powers of concentration have improved after attending many concerts and performances. I no longer get distracted by ringing cell phones, loud conversations and kids running up and down the aisles. I also like to share observations with the friend sitting beside me and get up for a break when the chief guest makes his (always too long) speech. Would this be allowed in Paris?

Sacred swastika

Above: A flag outside a Hindu temple

Last year my husband was in the US with some of his Indian work colleagues. They were having lunch one day when a man came up to their table and angrily addressed one of his Indian colleagues. He told him that he strongly objected to a symbol sewn onto the back of his jean jacket. It was a swastika. My husband’s colleague was perplexed but immediately removed the offending jacket. My husband then explained to him that this Hindu religious symbol is considered to be blasphemous in the West and even illegal in some countries. His colleague knew that the Nazis had misappropriated the swastika as their emblem but had no idea that it could elicit such strong offence.


Indeed this auspicious symbol of good luck is very common in India. I see it everywhere: painted on the doors and gates of houses and buildings, in temples, on statues and religious paintings, wedding invitations, vehicles and on clothing…

Here are some examples:

Above: Painted on the front of a school bus

Left: A swastika on Jain Ghat in Varanasi











Left: The swastika is clearly seen in this kolam design.













Left: On the pot of a tulsi plant.

Faces of Madhya Pradesh

In the last of my MP series, I feature the people of Madhya Pradesh. I like portrait and street photography and I love the results I get with a 50mm prime lens. Indians are definitely not camera shy. Everyone wants their picture taken! Most of my subjects below asked me to take their pictures. Years ago, kids used to scream "One pen! One pen!." Now it's "One photo! One photo!" Then they ask to see themselves on the LCD screen. I noticed that few people smile when they pose - they usually take on a very serious expression. Here are some of the people I came across in Madhya Pradesh:

Cycling through Mandu

The road to Mandu leads through lush green countryside and then upwards through the forests of the Vindhya Mountains. We arrived at a gate to this fortified city and crossed into another time and place.

We found enchanted lakes and the ruins of majestic mogul palaces, mosques and pavilions. These were built between 1401 and 1529 by the Sultans of Malwa who called it Shadiabad, the city of joy.

What better way to explore Mandu’s 23 square kilometres than by bicycle? There was little traffic and the leisurely pace allowed us to soak in the fresh air and lush countryside.

Mandu is considered to be one of India’s most romantic and picturesque sites. But all the guidebooks unanimously recommend that the best time visit is during the monsoon – considered to be the most romantic season in India!

I had another Kodak moment that didn’t happen in Mandu. Many men in Madhya Pradesh wear huge, colourful turbans. I saw two men go by on a motorcycle. They were wearing turbans: one was neon green… and the other fuchsia! But before I could reach for my camera, they were gone!

On the Island of Omkareshwar

After a two-hour drive from Maheshwar, a boat took us the short distance across the Narmada river to the island of Omkareshwar. We arrived at an ashram on a quiet part of the island. We were welcomed by a friendly Israeli swamy dressed sadhu-style in saffron robes and rudraksha beads.

There are many things that are special about Omkareshwar. First of all, this small island is supposedly shaped like the Sanskrit letters for OM. I didn’t see the island from the air so I can’t confirm this, but having walked around the island I do find this theory a bit implausible...

Omkareshwar is also one of the 12 sites in India to have a jyotirlingam (a natural rock linga where the god Shiva manifested himself in the form of light). Some people told us that the lingam is found in the towering Sri Omar Mandhata temple on the island. Others said that it’s in the Amareshwar temple just opposite on the mainland. The third version I heard was that there are two lingams, one in each temple!

The island is a popular pilgrimage destination. We took the pilgrim trail which circumambulates the island and were greeted with a cheerful “Hari Om!” by every sadhu, pilgrim and child we met on the way. We also got a taste of what it must be like to be SRK when we were mobbed by a crowd of college kids who all wanted to shake our hands and have their pictures taken with us!

Along the way we passed several shrines and temples. One part of the island had a Disneyland-feel to it, with temples crudely painted in bright colours. But in contrast, the 10th century Siddnath Temple was stunning with its natural rock and beautiful sculptures.

Later we joined the horde of local tourists and took a boat trip around the island. It was smooth sailing until we reached the sangam, the place at the tip of the island where another of India’s seven sacred rivers, the Cauvery, gushes violently into the Narmada. We all had to disembark and walk the short distance to the Cauvery side while the boatmen jumped into the water and pushed the boat through the strong current around the tip of the island. In the meantime many people took the opportunity to have a dip in the sacred waters.

At the other end of the island we passed in front of the massive (and controversial) Narmada dam, another significant landmark in Omkareshwar.

My next post will be on another magical place in Madhya Pradesh: Mandu!

On the ghats of Maheshwar

For the Christmas holidays we decided to visit a state we have never been to and didn’t know much about. So we chose Madhya Pradesh in central India. Sure enough, some of our foreign friends had never heard of it and our Indian friends asked us what there was to see in MP. Madhya Pradesh actually has a lot of interesting historical and natural tourist sites. It is also the second biggest state in India. Of course we could not see all of it so we decided to visit only the western part including Indore, Maheshwar, Omkareshwar, Mandu.

I had read about the bad roads but obviously the information I had was out of date because a new highway took us from Indore to Maheshwar in less than two hours. I’m glad I had the chance to visit Maheshwar because it is one of my favourite places in India. The town is dominated by the Ahilya Fort and adjoining Ahilyeshwar Temple which are directly on the banks of the Narmada, one of India’s sacred rivers.

Looking down from Ahilya Fort, I found the view both breathtaking and fascinating. The riverfront was a flurry of activity at all hours of the day. I spent most of my time either observing the scene from the Fort or sitting or strolling on the ghats by the riverfront. As the sun rose over the Narmada each morning, people would already be on the ghats offering their prayers and flower garlands to the sacred river. Men paced up and down the length of the ghats reciting ‘Om Namah Shivaya’. The mornings were a little chilly but this did not deter the faithful from taking a holy dip in the river. They cupped the sacred water in their hands while reciting prayers in Sanskrit and then carefully poured the water over their heads, and even into their mouths! Others were busy lighting incense and garlanding the numerous small shines dedicated to Shiva, represented by a Shiva linga and a small statue of Nandi the bull.

Meanwhile, the women and girls would be busy doing their laundry. The ghats echoed with the beating sound made by the wooden bats (which looked like small cricket bats) they used to pound their clothes clean. They would then dry their saris by laying them flat on the stone ground to dry in the hot sun. Or a woman would hold each end of the sari and it would dry by fluttering in the breeze.

By mid-morning these peaceful morning rituals would be interrupted by the loud sound of the sputtering engines of the numerous colourful tourist boats. There were many tourists and pilgrims who would come to visit the temple and take a trip on the Narmada or have a swim. There were few foreigners around so we were also a curiosity. Everyone wanted to ask us from which ‘village’ we came from and take their picture with us. On Christmas Day, many random strangers wished us a ‘Merry Christmas’!

At sunset, the sputtering engines of the tourist boats would finally stop and the faithful would be back for the evening puja. Once again all the small shrines would be carefully decorated with flowers and incense and the sing-song of prayers would be heard all along the ghats. As darkness quickly fell, prayers and flowers were offered to the sacred river, followed by the lighting of small oil lamps which were floated on her waters.

Back up at the Fort, I witnessed the spectacular sight of hundreds of lamps slowly floating down the dark waters of the Narmada. A sight I will not soon forget!