How H-CITI Will Destroy The Hydrological Structure Of KBR Nat’nl Park

Golconda Fort is perhaps the only major fort in the Deccan that was able to withstand multiple sieges. Though the Fort did not have a perineal source of water, fresh water was brought to the citadel through a complex gravity driven hydrological system, which incorporated a network of underground pipes, aqueducts and deep stepwells, with Persian wheels pumping the water to increasingly higher elevations. This hydrological infrastructure was one of the most advanced in the world at its time, and continues to be studied with awe in the present day. The same principles of hydrology were incorporated while building the city of Hyderabad, and they were built upon in the early decades of the 20th century by M. Visvesvaraiah who had been engaged to make the city flood proof after the floods of 1908. The modern city of Hyderabad, therefore, inherited a good water supply and sewerage system. Hydrological Significance of KBR National Park KBR National Park, which is situated on the KBR- Chiran ridge at a high elevation between Banjara Hills and Jubilee Hills plays a key role in regulating the hydrological cycle of Hyderabad. The central ridge which runs through the 390 acre National Park, has always regulated the rainwater runoff in multiple directions, ensuring the supply of water to the surrounding lakes- Durvam Cheravu, Lotus Pond, Enugula Kunta and Taj Banjara Lake. While some of these stream systems have already been by unregulated construction affected by urbanisation, the National Park still continues to perform a critical role in managing rainwater runoff. There are between 14 to 20 natural and waterbodies within the KBR National Park which are interconnected through a system of retaining walls, sluices and check dams. Between them, these waterbodies slow down rainwater runoff and prevent soil erosion. They also serve as a perineal source of water for the animals birds and reptiles which live within the National Park. In winter, the 16 acre Chiran Kunta, which is the largest of the waterbodies in the National Park, plays host to flocks of migratory birds. The thick canopy of trees within KBR National Park serves to reduce the ferocity of rainfall, thereby allowing it to fall gently on the ground. The roots of these trees also enable the rainwater to percolate into the soil and recharge groundwater aquifers which serve the neighbouring areas. The rapid pace of urbanisation in the neighbourhood of KBR National Park has already had an adverse impact on the hydrological systems, resulting in water logging, flooding and sewerage inundation. The proposed H-CITI Project with seven flyovers and seven underpasses will cause irreversible damage to the hydrological balance of the area, which is already suffering due to unchecked construction. H-CITI Project will have an adverse effect on the existing system The network of flyovers and underpasses around KBR National Park will necessarily include the construction of massive underground stumps and the setting up of a network of RCC pipes. This will result in drainage channels being cut off, and the rainwater collected will get diverted into storm water drains or to the sewer network, thereby reducing the amount of water that recharges groundwater aquifers. The neighbouring Jubilee Hills and Banjara Hills are already reeling under water shortage and this project will further worsen the situation. The H-CITI Project will involve felling 1942 mature trees in and around KBR National Park. Removing trees always reduces the recharge capacity of the ground. More importantly, after the trees are removed, open ground will be concretised, which will further reduce the amount of water percolating into the soil. While there will certainly be compensatory afforestation in lieu of the trees that are to be felled, the groundwater situation in the neighbourhood around KBR National Park which is already critically exploited will deteriorate further. The underground stumps of the H-CITI project will concretise open surfaces, and block existing drainage channels. This will drastically shrink the catchment area of the 16 acre Chiran Kunta, and could potentially lead to the perineal water body becoming little more than a shrub-choked puddle. Unfortunately, since an Environmental Impact Assessment has not been conducted for the H-CITI project, the hydrological impact of the project on the area in and around KBR National Park has not been properly examined before deciding whether or not to go ahead with the project. Golconda Fort was able to defend itself because it ensured that it never ran out of water. Unfortunately, Hyderabad has chosen to turn its back on traditional knowledge, and is systematically dismantling its existing hydrological infrastructure. We hope the city wakes up before it is too late.

Hyderabad Is Caught In A Groundwater Crisis

[First published in YouthKiAwaaz] Step out of your house in Hyderabad, and you are sure to encounter a water tanker. Those behemoths with dripping pipes are everywhere this summer- waiting next to you at a traffic signal, blocking the gate through which you exit your apartment, trying desperately to manoeuvre themselves into narrow lanes. Clearly Hyderabad is in the middle of a full-blown water crisis this summer! Data backs it up. As per the Dynamic Groundwater Resource Assessment Report 2025 released by the Union Ministry of Jal Shakti, all 16 mandals in Hyderabad have been classified as either "critical" or "over exploited" in terms of ground water exploitation. As per the same report, 26 mandals within the Greater Hyderabad region are "critical" or "over exploited", which is the highest among the metros, and even more than large states like Andhra Pradesh, Maharashtra and Bihar. How did this crisis come about, and what can be done to mitigate the damage? But, first let's look at how groundwater extraction is calculated and classified. The most common method of categorising groundwater extraction, including the one used by the Ministry of Jal Shakti, look at the percentage of the total annual extraction to the annual extractable groundwater resource. There are four categories: Safe zone, where extraction is less than 70%– at this stage the water table remains stable or shows seasonal fluctuation within reasonable limits. Semi critical zone, where extraction is between 70% and 90%– at this stage significant drawdown is noticed and extraction must be carefully monitored. However, there is no immediate cause for alarm. Critical zone, where extraction is between 90% and 100%– at this stage ground water aquifers are in danger of depletion and commercial extraction is carefully regulated with strict penalties for non conformation. Over-exploited zone, where extraction is above 100%– at this stage, the groundwater extraction is unsustainable and there must be an embargo on all further borewells, and immediate measures need to be implemented for reducing the water extracted and for recharging the water table. If all 16 mandals in Hyderabad city are in the "critical" or "over exploited" zone, then this is clearly an emergency situation, and immediate measures need to be taken to manage and mitigate the damange. How did the situation in Hyderabad get so bad? Hyderabad is among the fastest growing urban areas in the country, with the population growing from roughly 7 million in 2006 to over 11.6 million in 2026. This growth of nearly 65% has been largely driven by the IT and BioTech boom, and has been accompanied by rapid urbanisation and development of commercial and residential infrastructure. This rampant urbanisation, combined with insufficient planning and regulation, has resulted in both unregulated extraction of groundwater, and insufficient recharge of groundwater aquifers. Uncontrolled extraction by unregulated borewells As the city continued to grow, this growth has been accompanied by the unregulated and illegal digging of borewells. While the city officially has 2.5 lakh borewells, unofficial sources estimate the number to be closer to 10 lakhs. The Water, Trees and Land Act (WALTA), 2002 restricts borewell digging to a depth of 400 feet, but officials say that drilling rigs often go down to depths of upto 1,000 feet. All this has led to a depletion of groundwater aquifers, and the average water table has plunged sharply in many areas. This is causing borewells to dry up in summer, and leading to the dependence on water from water tankers. The problem is compounded by poor recharge of groundwater.  The rapid urbanisation across Hyderabad has resulted in heavy concretisation and paving of open spaces, which prevents rainwater from percolating down and replenishing groundwater aquifers- the rainwater first causes flooding and is then removed through storm water drains as surface runoff. While it is mandatory for new constructions to incorporate rainwater harvesting, it is estimated that less than 15% of the city has rainwater harvesting pits. Even in years of good monsoon, most of the rainwater isn't diverted into recharging groundwater aquifers. Many communities have also repurposed soak pits for parking or landscaped areas, which further reduces the amount of rainwater that diverted to groundwater aquifers. Further, in Hyderabad natural lakes, tanks and other water bodies have been encroached upon or built over, which has further eliminated critical water percolation zones. Natural drainage channels have also been indiscriminately built upon, which both increases flooding in the city and decreases recharge of groundwater aquifers. Due to a combination of poor enforcement and apathy, Hyderabad has, therefore, reached stage where there is uncontrolled extraction of groundwater and insufficient recharging of groundwater aquifers leading the city to the brink of a water catastrophe. The Water Crisis is compounded by the apathy of the Government At a time when the city is going through a massive groundwater crisis, the Government continues to peruse "development" projects which will drastically reduce the natural open spaces which play a vital role in recharging the groundwater aquifers. The proposed H-Citi Project will choke the KBR National Park within a grid of flyovers and underpasses, thereby reducing tree cover and replacing porous spaces with concrete. Similarly the proposed Musi River Development project will restrain the river within concrete boundaries which will drastically reduce the ability to divert rainwater into the groundwater aquifers. Both projects will also involve large scale felling of trees, which will reduce the amount of rainwater that is productively channeled into recharging aquifers. Neither of these projects should be taken up without a detailed Environmental Impact Assessment that specifically looks at the impact of each of the projects on the replenishment of the groundwater aquifers. Are there any sustainable solutions to manage the Water Crisis? Currently, Hyderabad is surviving on water brought in from outside the city. This, however, is not a sustainable solution. Mitigating the water crisis would require a twin pronged approach- regulate the extraction of groundwater and increase recharge. Some of the steps that should be implemented immediately are: 1. Mandatory Rainwater Harvesting in all large buildings, residential colonies and office complexes with large fines for non- compliance. 2. Levying financial penalties on building complexes that divert rainwater into storm water drains instead of into recharge pits. 3. Ensuring decentralised sewage treatment plants across the city to ensure that grey water is treated and used for landscaping and industrial purposes instead of being diverted into drains. 4. Ensuring proper aquifer management by moving from the ad hoc extraction of groundwater to a community driven watershed based approach to managing water. 5. Ensuring that all natural spaces, including lakes, waterbodies and parks are left untouched. 6. Creating non concretised spaces to ensure that natural drainage channels are not disturbed and the area available for natural seepage of rainwater is optimised. 7. Embargo on all large scale infrastructure projects which might adversely affect the recharge of groundwater aquifers. None of these measures are particularly hard to implement, as long as the intent to do so is there. The Dynamic Groundwater Resource Assessment Report 2025 provides the data to support what we are already experiencing- that Hyderabad is on the brink of a Water Crisis and that we need to take urgent action to prevent the situation from deteriorating further. If Hyderabad is to retain its preeminent place as a city that people aspire to move to, immediate steps have to taken to ensure that the city has enough water to drink.

Mere Survival is Enough

I almost don’t want to go to Facebook any more. All my friends are cooking elaborate five course meals, and participating in book readings and saree challenges. But for me, just ensuring the family (including dog) is fed and clothed seems like a major achievement. Every day is like being on a treadmill. Meals, laundry, work, worry. You are running all the time, but even after putting in your best effort, you are exactly where you stared. The meal gets consumed, and you have to think of the next one. Laundry keeps piling up. I admire the people who are baking their own bread- crusty, melt in the mouth buns for teatime. But I cannot be like them. I will shamelessly admit that I have taught my kids to fix themselves Maggie for lunch on days when I just cannot get myself to enter the kitchen. There are people working on embroidery projects and learning Madhubani painting. I tell myself if I do something creative, it will help. But helping solve a trigonometry problem is about all I am capable of doing in my current mental state. To all the people saying that if you do not come out of the lockdown without having learnt a new skill, all you lacked is discipline, I will only say, ‘Good for you that you are able’. But I can’t and it is not discipline that is lacking. It is the will. We are in the middle of a pandemic. We are worried about ourselves. We are worried about our loved ones. There are nights when I can’t sleep worrying about my mother who is alone in another state 600 kms away. I worry about her. I worry about the economy which was in bad shape even before the Lockdown, and which will only get worse. I worry about the recession that will come. I worry about how many people will slip further into poverty. I worry about increasing violence at home and on the streets. I know that my worrying will not help. But it paralyses me. It prevents me from being creative and productive. Every night, while going to bed, I tell myself that tomorrow I will make the effort and wear kajal before getting onto the early morning work call. But in reality, if I manage to comb my hair before noon, that itself would be an achievement. There is just one thing I am able to do for myself. Every evening, I fix myself a strong mug of coffee, and sip it on the balcony while watching the sun paint its masterpiece on the western horizon. It is those 15 minutes of emptiness that keeps me sane and grounded. And I tell myself that this is not a competition. I do not have to submit samples of my creativity to be graded by anyone. I do not have to make lists of books read, and movies watched. I do not have to be smarter and slimmer. I only have to continue being kind. For me, and for many like me, survival is enough. If I come out of the lockdown with my sanity intact and without having lost my humanity, that’s enough. Paula Radcliffe can run a marathon in 2:15:25. If I turn up at the starting line, that is good enough.

Who has the right to Public Spaces?

[The Supreme Court directive on street dogs exposes a glaring apathy towards the species that humans domesticated to provide protection and companionship] I was walking home at night last month when I felt a man following me. It is entirely possible that he was just a random pedestrian, but when I walked faster, he picked up speed too and when I crossed the road he crossed after me. It was scary, and since I was a couple of minutes away from home, I did the only thing I could- I called out loudly to our street dogs. Within moments, both of them bounded up, and leapt on me demanding cuddles. The man who I thought was stalking me melted into the darkness. Maybe it was just my imagination and the man had actually meant no harm, but as far as I am concerned, the street dogs had protected me when I needed them. The Supreme Court issues a directive not backed up by research! A couple of days after that incident, the Supreme Court took suo moto cognizance of the “stray dog menace” and directed the Delhi government to round up all stray dogs and to relocate them to shelters or pounds before a specified date. This, the Supreme Court said, was in response to a new report of a six year old girl succumbing to rabies after being mauled by stray dogs. This was done without verifying the numbers (much less attempting to understand the data) and without any knowledge or understanding of canine behaviour and of ways to keep dog populations in check. It is common knowledge that the only scientifically proven method of controlling rabies is by keeping the population of dogs within manageable levels by an ongoing programme of sterilisation and vaccination. Removing dogs from their natural habitat only creates a vacuum which is quickly filled by dogs from other localities. Even worse, it is the friendly dogs that caught more easily, and their place is taken by the aggressive dogs who are also less likely to have been vaccinated and therefore more likely to be carriers of rabies and other diseases. Become a Medium member The media misuses data to tell the wrong story In order to give a level of credibility to an otherwise unscientific argument, graphs and pie charts were shared to prove that stray dogs were a menance. The data on the number of dog bite and rabies cases do not stand up to scrutiny and are clearly overstated, but even if we take them as given, they do not tell the story that people think they tell. Data shows that the number of dog bite cases which was on a downward trend, started increasing after the COVID Lockdown. This actually proves that sterilisation works, because even the half-hearted attempts at sterilisation were suspended during Lockdown, resulting in an increase in dog population and consequently an increase in potential man-dog conflict leading to an increase in cases of rabies. If the trend of data is to be believed, that more than anything else proves that sterilisation and vaccination is the indeed the solution to the so called stray dog menace, not taking dogs away and locking them up in shelters. Sadly, even when this was pointed out, the people supporting the directive issued by the Supreme Court refused to listen. The controversy also exposed falut lines in society The Supreme Court directive and the public outcry against it exposed fault lines which always existed but which we chose to ignore. Most people, whether for or against the Supreme Court order, dug into their respective positions and refused to even listen to the arguments of the other side, much less engage in a constructive discussion. This attitude was particularly disappointing when displayed by people who self identify as Liberals- many thought that indulging in name calling was a suitable response to a difference of opinion. There were attempts to reduce the issue to one of having to choose between “innocent children” and “aggressive dogs”. This, however, cannot be a binary, because there are too many nuances to the issue of stray dogs. Not even the most vocal opponents of the order were saying that the lives of children were less important than that of the dogs. All that people were saying is that the only scientifically proven and sustainable solution to the problem is to intensify the programme to sterilise and vaccinate street dogs, because it is only through sterilisation that the population of street dogs can be kept in check. “If you love dogs so much, adopt them”, the people who were opposing the Supreme Court directive were told. This is a ridiculous argument from any perspective- individuals cannot and should not be expected to take responsibility for the failure of the government. The population of street dogs did not go up because people feed dogs — if anything feeding the dogs ensures they are less aggressive — the population went up because the sterilisation programme was suspended. More to the point, “adopt a dog” is an elitist solution to a nationwide programme. In a country where most people live in houses that are so small that there is barely enough space for human beings to live in, how can families be expected to take in a dog? The street dogs residing in most lower income neighbourhoods, for all practical purposes, are pets of the entire community. They might live on the streets, but the families feed them, play with them, and provide medical attention when required. In return the dogs serve as neighbourhood watchmen and provide companionship. Taking these dogs away is actually detrimental to the community. Who has the right to exist in public spaces? Are they meant for humans alone? My greatest objection is to the widely held belief that “public spaces are for humans and dogs do not belong there”. Human beings domesticated dogs, and dogs have been co-developers of our rural and urban landscape. Our cities belong as much to dogs as they do to humans, and we do not have the right to exile them from our neighbourhoods. What humans can and must do is to ensure that the population is kept in check through sterilisation and that dogs are vaccinated to protect them and us from preventable illnesses. Most cities in developed countries have managed to keep the population of street dogs under control, and this has been accomplished by a combination of a strict implementation of sterilisation and vaccination programmes, and a strong emphasis on the adoption of stray and rescue dogs. If other countries could do it, so can we if we have the will. The Supreme Court has now come up with an interim order, which rolls back the recent directive and essentially asks that the existing guidelines on sterilisation and vaccination be implemented. It is now upto each of us to hold the municipal authorities accountable for ensuring that this order is carried out with compassion and alacrity. It is also upto us to treat animals with compassion and to teach our children to do so. When one set of humans is cruel to dogs, they become suspicious of all human beings- if we treat our street dogs with kindness, they reciprocate. We need to develop greater compassion and respect for the creatures we share our cities with. A few months back, the “Man v/s Bear” question divided the internet- “if you are female and alone in the woods, would you rather encounter a man or a bear?”. I do not have an answer to that question, but I do know that when I am alone on a dark street, there is nobody I would like at my side more than a protective street dog.

Do Names Really Matter?

 “Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing.”

- H. W. Longfellow

She glanced at her watch, looked at the restive crowd and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her flight should have taken off six hours back- who knew when it would finally take off, if it took off. She longed to get up, stretch her legs and loosen the knots in her back. But she dare not even think about it; if she did, her seat would be taken. She sighed and opened candy crush- anything to keep her mind off this senseless delay.

The lady seated next to her looked up. They exchanged looks, then a tentative smile. “How long do you think we will be here?”, the lady asked. She shrugged, “I hope not forever.”

“I know, right! It is so frustrating, this not knowing. I am traveling to Kolkata for my cousin sister’s wedding. If my flight is cancelled, I will just go back home. But they keep rescheduling and I keep hoping I will make it.”

“When is the wedding?”

“The wedding is on Saturday, but I want to spend some time with Ma, and also go shopping. I don’t even have matching petticoats for all my sarees.”

The two women exchanged wry glances. “Matching petticoats! I stopped wearing matching petticoats after I moved out of Calcutta. Now I make do with a black and a white!”

Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “Really! I can’t even think of not wearing matching petticoats. But did you also live in Kolkatta.”

“Yes, for thirteen years.”

“You aren’t a Bengali, are you?”

“No, I am not. But I did my high school and undergrad in Calcutta, so consider myself an honorary Bong.”

“Where did you stay?”

“Near Gariahat. You?”

“Me too. I lived near Gariahat too.”

“I spent hours in Gariahat. The second-hand book shops. The books you got there!”

“Yes, and the puchka guy in the corner near the second hand book stalls. The way he customised the filling just for you and never made a mistake.”

“And the aloo dum vendor at Gol Park. Is he still there?”

“I preferred the luchi aloo dum from the misti dukan at Gol Park.”

“Yes, divine. And all those block printing stalls where you could get anything printed exactly like you wanted.”

“Seriously! When people talk so much about customisation, I want to tell them how we designed every part of our wardrobe.”

“And got matching earrings for every outfit.”

The two women sighed, united as only memories can unite.

“Remember the little shop near Dover Lane where you got Archies cards.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. I spent so many hours there going through all the cards to pick the perfect one for my friends.”

Hours would pass. The tsunami of memories would show no sign of abating. When their flights were finally called, they would both go their separate ways. Before saying goodbye, they would exchange Instagram handles. Only after sinking into their seats would they look at the name of the person they had been chatting with for yours. Do names really matter when you have memories in common?

[This work of fiction is written for Reubenna Dutta as a part of the end of the year ‘Gift a Story’ activity initiated by Suchita Agarwal. The volunteers were paired up, and encouraged to get to know each other better with the objective of penning a ‘gift’ for them.]

Grief

 ~Grief~

You feel rather than see something dart into the ixora bush. You look closer and spot a munia. No, a pair of munias. What are two munias doing there? Are they planning to build a nest? Your father would love to know about them. You want to call and tell him. But he is no longer here; hasn’t been for nearly two decades. Grief overwhelms you. You can barely function for the next few hours.

They tell you that time heals. That grief goes away. They lie.

Grief never goes away. Time doesn’t heal. All that happens is that you grow around the grief. You learn to copy. You learn to tuck away your memories in that closed room you barely enter. But sometimes, when you are least expecting it, the winds blows the door open and the memories come tumbling out. You are overcome with grief. All over again.

You wish that someday grief would leave you. But do you really wish that? Because what is grief if not the other side of love? You can only grieve someone who you have loved fiercely, and that love is always worthwhile.

Keep those you have loved close to your heart. Remember them. Grieve them. Let yourself be engulfed in sadness. They are you, you are them.

And perhaps someday someone will grieve you too.

For I am grief, and grief is you.

[Modified from a letter that Grief wrote to me as a part of a eleven day letter writing challenge.]

“More than just a cross between a classic whodunnit and a Gothic novel”

 [A review of ‘The Scratch and Sniff Chronicles’ by Hemangini Dutt Majumder]

‘The Scratch and Sniff Chronicles’ set in Neelbari, a crumbling mansion in Chandannagar. Basanti Chattergé (better known as Fishy), a top lawyer in Kolkata, has just won a protracted battle over her stepmother for control of the ancestral property, and has decided to relocate with her adopted daughter Laura, her niece Ollie and their cat Habey. Neither of the younger Chattergé women particularly wants to move out of the city, yet when strange and seemingly supernatural things start happening in the mansion, they dismiss the idea that the mansion is haunted by the ghost of their grandmother and resolve to get to the bottom of it.

The book is marketed as a cross between a classic whodunnit and a Gothic novel, but it is more than just that. The book paints a portrait of an upper caste, cultured Bengali family, filled all their attendant eccentricities. Even the family surname would sound pretentious to an outsider- Chattergé is a nod to the close multi-generational ties which the family had to France. Daknams (or nicknames) are common among Bengalis of a certain class, but these women have interesting names too- Ollie for instance is Olympia, so named “on her aunt’s suggestion. The inspiration was Edouard Manet’s Olympia, the controversial painting of a nude woman painting to look directly into the viewer’s eyes instead of coyly averting her gaze (as was the practice at the time).” Fishy’s stepmother was named Latika, but chose to call herself ‘Labanga Latika’ after the famous Bengali mishti!

Ollie has an uncanny sense of smell (which serves her well in her profession as a sommelier and beverage consultant because she can sniff out and create complex flavour profiles), and the narrative is punctuated by her olfactory observations. “Tiger Balm. Hibiscus hair oil. Shalimar perfume. Cigar.”, for instance, announces the presence of Fishy. These smell profiles not only add an unusual depth to the characterisations, they often also serve as a detective tool.

The book may be a cosy mystery set in a quaint household, but it tackles a topic that most authors shy away from. Ollie suffers from POCS, and she is subject to the same indifference and lack of empathy from the medical community as almost all other women with a similar condition are. Ollie, like thousands of other young women, had been repeatedly told by doctors that her menstrual problems will eventually right themselves and that in the meantime she should lose weight and adopt a different diet. While talking about this in a book may not itself lead to a change of attitude, it will at least give women who go through this every month feel seen.

The book is also unusual in the choice of narrator. For the first couple of chapters, you are left guessing the identity of the almost omnipresent narrator, but once you know who it is, you start to appreciate the tone of concern and sarcasm she employs. The pace of the book is slow, and it could potentially get exasperating if you are expecting a whodunnit. But if, you allow yourself to read it as a comedy of manners, the book will grow on you.

If you are looking for the gentle humour of a PG Wodehouse, set in modern day West Bengal, with a cast of quirky and formidable women and detailed descriptions of scrumptious meals, look no further than this. You will not be disappointed.

[I received a review copy of the book, and the views are my own.]

A Tender Love Story for Mature Adults

 For the Love of Apricots, by Madhulika Liddle

When did you last love a character so much that you wanted to race through the book because I couldn’t have enough of her, and yet, you consciously slowed down because you knew you didn’t want the book to end? Nandini Mathur, the 40 year old protagonist of “For the Love of Apricots” is exactly that character. She is clumsy, accident prone and impulsive. Yet, she is also efficient, hard working and resourceful. She can be brusque, but she will do anything for the people she cares about. She pads about in a shapeless jacket and well worn trousers, but finds time for the moments of beauty that take your breath away.

Nandini’s father chose to move to the hills post retirement, but it is not clear why a young woman who clearly grew up in the city would choose to bury herself in a hill station where she doesn’t even have anyone to talk to. Yes, she has set up a women’s cooperative that manufactures pickles. Yes, she goes for long walks in the hills and has a beautiful garden. But one would normally picture someone like her living in a city apartment with a balcony garden, dreaming of the hills while she goes about her daily chores.

When Vikas Joshi, Negi Sahib’s distant relative, purchases his apricot orchard, he and Nandini keep running into each other. Far from being love at first sight, in fact, their relationship got off on a bad note and they maintained what could at best be called an uneasy truce. But they gradually grew to understand and respect each other, and from that grew a tentative affection.

This book is a refreshing change from most romances- it is a love story between two mature adults who have seen enough of life to be skeptical of romantic love. Sparks do not fly when they their hands accidentally brush against each other (in fact, their hands do not brush against each other at all), but they each see the other for what they truly are, and that is more precious than sparks flying.

I also loved the way the author describes the relationship between Nandini and her father- they live in the same house, but lead their own lives. Would her father even notice if she goes away, Nandini often wonders, or will life go on just the same for him.

The book is rich in sensory detail- you can taste the various jams, chutneys and pickles, you smell the pine needles and the flowers dripping with nectar, you can be dazzled by the variety of flowers, you can even be stung by the bicchu grass. Reading this book literally transports you to the hills and makes you forget everything else.

Fictionalised Account of the youngest member of the Azad Hind Fauj

 Laxmi Panda: The Story of Netaji’s Youngest Spy, Savie Karnal

I first heard about Netaji’s Youngest Spy in P. Sainath’s book “The Lost Heros” on the forgotten foot-soldiers of the Independence Movement. He described the zesty old lady and her struggle to have herself acknowledged as a freedom fighter, but one remained curious about what led a young girl to join the Resistance. Savie Karnel’s book addresses just that.

Laxmi was born in Burma to Odiya parents who moved there in search of a livelihood. When both parents died during the air raids, Laxmi had to take on the responsibility of keeping herself and her younger brother alive.

This is fascinating account of how a precocious young lady convinces the Azad Hind Fauj to let her join the women’s battalion. Her extraordinary power of observation, her integrity and her ability to connect the dots is responsible for her being chosen to get trained as a spy. While based on a true story, the author has presented it in a fictionalised form, which lends itself perfect to the topic. It was fascinating reading about the women in the Azad Hind Fauj, and I particularly loved the way Laxmi’s character was developed.

I am quite sure the book will appeal to a younger reader as much as it did for me. It will certainly be a great book tp present to the young women in your life.

“The Perfect Cup of Chai”: small acts of gender empowerment

 

“The Perfect Cup of Chai” is necessarily subjective, but I am convinced that it is my son who makes the perfect cup of chai. Just the right balance of water and milk, brewed to the right strength and served in my favourite mug. When he returns home from for the holidays, I give him a day or two to recover before asking him to brew me evening tea!
I didn’t actively set out to teach him to brew tea, though. It was something he picked up on his own, when he realised that I liked to relax with a mug tea right after getting home from work. It started with him rescuing the water I had put onto boil and forgotten about, and before long, I got into the habit of giving him a call when I was almost home so the tea would be ready by the time I finished cuddling the dog after getting home!
It was, however, just sometime he did for me, till I started noticing a trend whenever I had an interaction with mothers’ groups. All of them were bursting with dreams for their daughters. They were willing to make sacrifices to ensure the girls went to college. They were determined to defy society if it demanded that the girls be married off before they were ready to get married. It was easy to get caught up in their excitement- wasn’t that exactly the women’s empowerment that we all hoped for?
But was this really empowerment? By focussing only on empowering the girls, weren’t we actually making it harder for them? Were we pushing them towards a life where they were expected to have a full-time job and also manage the household? While empowering the girls, shouldn’t we also be looking at enabling boys to support the empowered women?
I started telling the women about how my son made chai for me every evening. “Allow your daughters to dream”, I would say, “but also teach your sons to do their share of the work at home.” Because it is only when men and boys learn to do their share of the chores at home that we can move towards a gender equitable society.
[I wrote this as a part of the #BlogchatterFoodFest]

A Crumbling Mansion, A Dysfunctional Family: ‘The Magnificent Ruins’ — Review

 A crumbling mansion which houses a family which is both victim and perpetrator of intergenerational trauma. First published in Youth Ki Awaaz

Summary

After spending her childhood in her divorced mother’s ancestral home, at 16, Lila De moved to the United States to live with her father and stepmother. On her 29th birthday, at a point where her career in a New York based publishing house is poised to take off, she comes to hear of her grandfather’s death and that he has bequeathed the family home to her. Lila takes eight weeks leave to return to the city she grew up in, hoping that would be sufficient time to sort out any issues arising due to the inheritance.

A crumbling mansion, a dysfunctional family

The five story crumbling mansion in Calcutta is home to her extended family. Her newly widowed grandmother, two uncles and their wives, one cousin and her mother all live together in the house- notionally on different floors, but in reality with open doors which anyone can walk through at any time. Her relatives all treat her as a young and immature child- they love her, but do not take her seriously. They try desperately to smother her in their love, yet, are secretly plotting to disinherit her. They vie with each other for her attention, yet each of them keeps secrets from her. Each of them in different ways conveys to her that even though they are legally challenging her right to inherit the property, it is not personal and that they still love her as much as they always did!

At the advice of her lawyer and because she herself wants to, Lila attempts to restore the neglected mansion to its former glory. However, while it is easy to change the wiring and install an elevator, it is much harder to confront her past and to untangle the complex relationships with her relatives. Lila’s mother had been emotionally and physically abusive and as a child she had sought comfort from her grandmother. She now finds that the two women still use her to score points against each other. As she digs deeper, she realises that everything is not as it seems- that the people who abused Lila had themselves been victims of abuse.

The author is at her best when she describes the generational trauma that defines almost every relationship within the family. Many of the characters display multiple behaviours, and you are alternately angry with them for their behaviour and sympathetic towards them because of what they faced. While some of the younger members try to escape the toxicity of the family, you see them falling into the same patterns that plagued older members of the family.

The side plots

While the main strand of the novel Lila trying to make sense of the entanglements within the family residing in the crumbling mansion, her complicated romantic life is also a major plot element. She was in a casual relationship with a one of her writers, but once back in Calcutta she runs into her first boyfriend who though married shows that he is still available. When her writer friend makes a “grand gesture” and follows her to Calcutta, she is torn between the two men. Though not central to the book, this strand sums up much of what makes up modern dating.

The book is set in Calcutta 2015, and the city comes alive through Lila’s gaze. The crumbling mansions, the new apartment blocks, the markets and the nosy neighbours. The book is set against an upcoming election where the ruling Left front is challenged by the rising Right wing, which threatens to disrupt the social order. There are also growing protests against Section 377, and rising fear among the Muslims. While there is an attempt to talk about classism, especially with how the old families treat the household help, not enough was done here, and the book itself might have benefited if it had been left out completely.

I particularly enjoyed how food is recurring motif throughout the book. Whether it is Lila’s American step mother who shows her affection through food, to how Lila’s mother and grandmother compete with each other to server her favourite dishes, food remains the love language through which most people seem to express themselves. Whether it is haggling for fish at the market or guarding recipes, the book evokes memories in anyone who cares about food.

Conclusion

It is tempting to compare the book to the masterpiece of intergenerational trauma- Arundhati Roy’s God of Small Things. While both books deal with inherited trauma and of how young people attempt to cope with it, The Magnificent Ruins is told through the perspective of someone who has now escaped the family home, and who therefore is able to confront her family history through the distance of time and space.

Overall, this is a powerful debut from the author and one certainly looks forward to reading her next.

AN: I thank Hachette India for sending me a review copy of the book. The views are my own.

Do We Need So Many Statues?

 

When the world’s largest statue of Dr. BR Ambedkar was still under construction, I would be awed by the scale. Yet, like most other well-meaning savarnas, I would wonder if the money being spent on the statue could not have been better spent in setting up the infrastructure to deliver better education, meaningful livelihood opportunities and quality healthcare to the people who need it the most. Wouldn’t that create a more equitable world, I thought.

When I started reading Dalit authors, I came to realise that the statues of Dr. Ambedkar instil a sense of pride and confidence in people. They symbolise the aspiration to break free from the clutches of casteism, and to take their rightful place in the world.

A few weeks back, a public intellectual asked a rather provocative question- “There are more Ambedkar statues in India than Gandhi’s. Is that because he gave us a country which Gandhi could never have conceptualised.” This question sidesteps the fact that Dr. Ambedkar is directly linked to Dalit and Bahujan pride, and it is by erecting statues that the community asserts itself and it is also the easiest way for politicians to appease the community.

Ironically, if the nation had succeeded in removing the bane of caste, and there was genuine social, economic and political equity, then we might have fewer statues of Ambedkar. Till such a day arrives, we need to educate, agitate and organise. It will not be easy, because that would mean acknowledging our privileges and unlearning things we took for granted. But we must.

Review: Girls Who Said Nothing & Everything

 [Review of a book of essays by Meera Vijayann on growing up as a young woman from a small town in India]

‘Girls Who Said Nothing and Everything’ is a collection of eleven autobiographical essays on growing up as a young woman in India.

“In the Tamil Nadar community”, the author Meera Vijayann writes, “speaking the truth about your family is a great betrayal. You are raised to feel indebted to your parents.” The eldest of four daughters, the author was born in a small town in Tamil Nadu to parents who wanted “the best” for their children, but didn’t really know what “the best” really was. While fstill in school, the author maintained a journal as a way to process her feelings, and it was while revisiting these journals decades later that she thought about compiling them into the essays that made up this book. The author, however does not consider these essays to be betrayal, and instead sees them as “a refusal to continue the oppressive culture of silence that I was raised in.”

The book begins with an incident where the young Meera is inadvertently held responsible for a classroom accident she did not intend to cause. After bearing the punishment in silence for a few days, Meera confides in her mother, who takes it up with the school authorities. While her mother stood up for her, and displayed righteous anger at how she was wrongfully blamed, this was not what Meera wanted. In her words, “I didn’t want her to stand up for me but to say something sweet and motherly.” She is almost angry with herself for confiding in her mother. Meera’s relationship with her mother continues to follow the same pattern. Her mother, who was forced to sacrifice her dreams at the altar of marriage wanted a different life for her daughters. Yet, she wanted her daughters to fulfil their dreams within the constraints imposed by a patriarchal society.

The book follows a chronological sequence, but more than that each successive essay marks different constraints the author has to overcome before she can achieve the personal, social and financial freedom she craves. She deals with issues which were relevant three decades back, and unfortunately continue to be relevant even today. She talks about casteism, classism and nepotism- the many ways in which society conspires to break down the spirit of ambitious young people. She speaks a lot about financial independence, and of how parents fail to prepare their children for the outside world by excluding them from conversations involving money.

Her essays expose the hypocrisy of society which looks away when young girls are sexually abused by older men, but are quick blame women for “tempting” the men with whom they are in a consensual relationship. All the institutions which are supposed to protect women, the author soon realises, do so only if the women grant blind obedience. She speaks about the power of role models, and of how hearing Barkha Dutt say “Oh girls, you’ll do great” served as a talisman for her. As she says, “All week, I couldn’t stop thinking about those words. I wish my parents had said something that kind and simple.”

While the author bemoans the fact that her parents didn’t provide the emotional support she needed while growing up, she also grows to recognise the fact that they themselves were victims of generational trauma. It was eventually her parents who took a loan to send her to UK to study so she could have the life that was denied to them.

‘Girls Who Said Nothing & Everything’ documents the coming of age of a woman who has to challenge social expectations and create opportunities for herself in a land where “every living thing but a girl has freedom.” It is a testament to fact that generational trauma can be overcome, and healing is possible. It is also the story of female solidarity, and of how women can uplift other women.

Read this book if you are interested in reading a personal memoir which also serves as a social commentary on how family, community, educational opportunities and caste come together to stunt the growth of young women.

[AN: I received a review copy of the book through the Blogchatter Book Review Program. You can buy the book on Amazon or wherever books are sold. The views are my own.]

The Inspirational Story of Daktarin Jamini Sen

 [Book Review first published in YouthKiAwaaz]

“In 1912, when most women in British India were still denied formal medical education, an Indian woman entered the global medical establishment. Jamini Sen became the first woman Fellow of the Royal Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, and then gradually disappeared from India’s public memory.”

When I read these lines, I immediately knew that I wanted to know more about Daktarin Jamini Sen. Most of us know the names of the three pioneering women doctors from India- Anandibai Joshi (the first Indian woman to quality as a doctor), Rukhmabai Raut (the first Indian woman to practice Western medicine in India) and Kadambini Ganguly (the first woman to qualify as a doctor in India)- the names and stories of the women doctors who followed them are largely forgotten. Yet, each of them would have had to overcome immense obstacles in the course of getting qualified and then while actually practicing medicine. What made this particular story even more intriguing was the fact that Jamini Sen was not just the first Indian woman to become a Fellow of the RFPSG, but the first woman regardless of nationality!

Nothing, however, prepared me for the inspirational story of Daktarin Jamini Sen!

The story begins in a village in what is now Bangaldesh. A young mother of two daughters is left destitute after her father-in-law passed away. While her husband is still alive, the villagers want her to forget about him since he ‘left the faith’ after joining the Brahmo Samaj movement. The lady, however has a mind of her own, and follows her husband to the city after first laying down the condition that she will remain true to the religious faith she grew up with. Both the daughters were given an education, and the younger of the two qualified as a doctor.

Then, instead of practicing medicine from the safety of her home, Daktarin Jamini Sen relocated to Katmandu to take up the position of the physician to the royal family. She was more than just a medical doctor- she became a confidant to the members of the royal family, and she worked closely with the local administration to introduce public health measures. Many of these sanitation and cleanliness measures were incorporated as a part of religious ritual, and as far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter who took credit as long as health standards improved.

When she returned to India following political turmoil, she decided to go abroad to acquire further qualifications, after which she joined the Indian Women’s Medical Service and served in many remote outposts of British India. In many of these postings, she was responsible for setting up or modernising the local hospital, and she commanded much respect from the people she treated.

The book does not, however, only deal with Daktarin Jamini Sen’s professional triumphs. It goes into the effort she had to put into maintaining her “virtue”, of the discrimination she faced from both men and women, of the baseless gossip that followed her wherever she went, and of how the system tried to browbeat her. The book also describes her spiritual experiences, and tries to understand some of the choices she made. There is also a diversion into how the saree drape evolved and of the particular style adopted by Daktarin Jamini Sen.

The book is written by the great-grand niece of Jamini Sen, and draws upon oral family lore. However, it is also the product of meticulous research and the writer gives precise citations wherever possible.

I would recommend the book to anyone who is curious to hear the stories of the female pioneers who helped pave the way for greater gender parity. It would also be of interest to people who are interested in learning about the Brahmo community in Calcutta and about the politics within the Royal Family of Nepal.

I received a review copy from Penguin India, and this review reflects my unbiased opinion.

“The Wrong Way Home”- For Fans Of Nora Ephron And Liane Moriarty

 [I reviewed the book for YouthKiAwaaz]

Summary
On the first anniversary of her divorce, 40 year old Nayantara’s social media feed exploded with the news of her ex-husband’s marriage to a young influencer. The divorce had been hard on her- she’d walked away without an alimony, been shunned by mutual friends who chose to align themselves with her ex-husband, and found her PR business foundering because the divorce closed her off from certain circles. Her confidence which was at an all-time low was further dented when she found herself referred to as “his ex-wife is in PR”, instead of as “the glamorous head of a boutique PR firm” which is how she thought of herself. When she lost an important client because she was busy doomscrolling instead of attending an event, and was asked to vacate her apartment because the housing society decides to revoke the tenancy of unmarried women, she realised she had to turn things around.
She takes on some questionable clients, and allows herself to get emotionally involved with a suave and rich man- anything to convey to her ex-husband that she is over him! But will her conscience allow her to keep those clients, and should she ignore all the red flags her romantic interest sets off? More importantly, will she learn to stop wanting to impress her ex-husband, in the hope of making him regret leaving her?

The book is full of well etched characters.
There is also Vikram, a Silicon Valley techie who chose to return to home with his daughter to set up schools in inaccessible Himalayan villages. He is thoughtful and kind, and Nayantara’s mother adores him, but do the bright lights of Mumbai blind her to his obvious interest in her.
Rohit is the best friend every young (or not so young) woman can want. He understands her needs, knows exactly which wine to pair with every crying session, is kind and compassionate, yet, never shies away from telling her exactly what he believes. It is Rohit who makes her realise that she should stop caring about what her ex-husband thinks and start living for herself, thereby setting her off on the journey towards recovery.
Nayantara’s mother is a force of nature. An environmental activist, she was too busy saving the world to be a doting mother to her child, but it is her common sense and compassion which is the cushion that her adult daughter desperately craves.

But the real star of the book is Nayantara. Though she comes across as lacking confidence in herself, and is constantly evaluating herself through the eyes of her ex-husband, it is clear that she is brilliant in her profession. She is thrown into a desperate situation more than once and each time is able to avert a disaster because of her quick thinking, her contacts and her intuitive understanding of PR.

Told with wit and humour, this is a deeply feminist book
On the face of it, ‘The Wrong Way Home’ is a book about the swish set of Mumbai, but below the gloss, it is a gritty book on the reality of being a single woman in the city. The book is about how the city treats single women and the presumptions made about them. It is about how difficult it is to be a female divorcee- of how men treat you as prey and women as potential predators. The author talks about how hard it is for middle aged women to enter the dating pool, and of the compromises many women make to preserve their public personas.
As we accompany Nayantara on her journey towards healing, we perhaps anticipate the choices she will finally make- but what sets this book apart from many others is that these choices are not explicitly stated. This is a deeply feminist book, but one where the message is buried under humour, and an engaging storyline. If you like Liane Moriarty and Nora Ephron, you will love this book.

Author’s Note: I received a review copy from the publisher. The views are my own.