Shadows

Pakistani writer Kamila Shamsie’s `Burnt Shadows’ begins with a melancholic verse from Sahir Ludhianwi about war. That lyric and melancholic strain continues to haunt the next 363 pages as Shamsie weaves a compelling story about a woman’s journey from Japan to India to Turkey to Pakisan and finally in New York.

Hiroko Tanaka hops from one historical chapter to another – the bombing of Nagasaki, pre-partition Delhi, partition and the creation of Pakistan, the raising of the mujhahideens to fight the Soviets, and 9/11.
Hiroko's journey also glues together two families – three generations of the Burtons and the Ashrafs – whose lives violently change as big tragedies of the 20th century wreck their worlds.

The narrative is powerful and is one of the best post-9/11 works after Mohsin Hamid's The Reluctant Fundamentalist. Like the latter, however, Shadows is not a novel of ideas though Shamsie dwells on topics from the horrors of nuclear war to Islamic fundamentalism, racial profiling and private military contractors. She makes up for it with a powerful story.

Hampi Basics

The rickshaw ride from Hospet station give you hints very early on whats in store - a temple here, a couple of large rocks there. But nothing prepares one for the spectacle that is Hampi - gigantic boulders arranged as if with geometric precision, ancient water ways and of course the ruins of temples and palaces, harking back to a magical kingdom that your grandma's stories always began with.

By Day two of my stay in Hampi, on a ride back to my hotel on a deserted road I could swear I saw one of those couples etched in stone on a nearby temple scampering across the road. Though the temple ruins - a UNESCO world heritage site - spread across a 26 square kilometre areas date back to the 14 century Vijayanagar empire, the mythology goes back to Lord Shiva and the monkey kingdom of Kishkinda , that features in the Ramayana. So read up a bit on the history of Hampi, before you take in the visual splendour.

How to reach:
By train:The nearest station is Hospet, barely 13 kilometres away. From Mumbai there is the weekly Garib Nawaz Express on Mondays. From Bangalore you can take the daily Hampi Express, an over night train that reaches Hospet around 7.30 am. From Hospet, take a rickshaw to reach your hotel in Hampi (Rs 100-150 in 2008).

By Air: The nearest airport is Bangalore.

By Bus: KSRTC runes overnight air conditioned buses to Hampi.

When to travel: Hampi is hot, most of the year. and I mean hot. March to June is summer, when temperatures can touch 40 degree Celsius. July to September is the monsoon. Since, the trip involves walks between the temples, trips during this time is generally not advisable. November to February is the tourist season, but do carry lots of sunscreen.

How will you travel in Hampi: You can either hire a scooter or cycle to do the temple circuit on your own. These can be hired at the Hampi Bazaar or at Kamlapura. The other alternative is to hire a rickshaw. The rickshaws are hired for a day (9 am to 6 pm) for a pre-fixed rate (Rs 600 in 2008). The rickshaw driver will usually have a map and also a good itinerary. Rickshaws are usually parked outside your hotel and you could strike a deal with the driver for the period of your stay. If budget is not a concern, you can also rent a car (Rs 1,000 for a day). If you are too lazy to do this, another option is the bus tour arranged by a Karnataka Tourism. You can book it at Hampi Bazaar, Hospet or at Hotel Mayur Bhuvaneshwari (they have a pick up from the hotel if you stay there).

How many days:You require a minimum of three days to cover the important temples and palace ruins.

Where to eat: There are some good restaurants which serve a variety of cuisine at Hampi Bazaar. Mango Tree, nestled among a banana plantation, is a must visit for its views and food. We had some of our best meals at New Shanti restaurant - on the lane on the right side of the Virupaksha temple. With its psychedelic decor, the restaurant serves some real nice fare, including wood oven pizzas. The Geeta River View indeed has one of the best views, but the food is over rated. Across the river Virupapur Gadde has a few good restaurants like the Goan Corner.

Where to stay: There are four options and these depend on your budget.
At Hospet: If you need luxury, then the best choice is Hotel Malligi close to Hospet railway station. But, bear in mind that Hampi is 13 kilometres away. So factor in the commute to and fro.
At Hampi Bazaar: This is the budget choice and not surprisingly the choice of firang backpackers. A number of houses are converted into guest houses and let out to tourists. You are in the middle of all the action, and an option if you are travelling on a budget.
Across the river: A coracle ride from the Hampi Bazaar side of Tungabadhra will take you to Virupapur Gadde, which has guest houses and small hotels - again favoured by backpackers. Remember that to go across the river, you have to take a ferry, which operates only till 6 pm. Shanti Guest House and Kishkinda resort have good reviews.
Hotel Mayur Bhuvaneshwari: This KTDC run hotel is the best choice and is the only place in Hampi that serves

alcohol. Location wise it is near the Royal Enclosure. Hampi Bazaar is a five to 10 minute ride away. There are rickshaws parked right outside the hotel. The staff is laid back like all government run hotels. President Pratibha Patil had visited Hampi in 2008, and since she stayed in HMB, the place has been renovated recently. Food is just about bearable.

Don't Miss:
* A coracle ride on the Tungabhadra river.
* Buy curios, stone sculptures, carpets and handmade blankets. They are pretty cheap.

Remember:
* To take comfortable walking shoes.
* Sunscreen
* An umbrella.

Vote!

Elections '09 seems to have opened the flood gates of Independent candidates, especially in Mumbai. Independents have been a regular feature come election time - rebels who stand as independents when their political party denies them a ticket and if elected drive a hard bargain to prop up a coalition government. This time a new breed of candidates, untarred by the political brush, have decided to throw their hat in the ring in urban centres, and are receiving adulation and press coverage.

There is a banker from Mumbai-Meera Sanyal, dancer Mallika Sarabai from Ahmedabad, low cost airline pioneer Captain Gopinath from Bangalore, among others. They are educated, have successful careers, but their biggest asset if blog land is to be believed is that they are not politicians.

Would I vote for them? Hmmmm.... My uneasiness with the candidates comes from the fact that what do I know of them besides the fact that they are people like you and me. With a politician, a voter knows where he stands. A politician makes a career of soliciting my vote with promises of development and a better future. Even if he doesn't fulfill any of those promises, I know that the politician will still come back to me after five years.

I cannot say that for sure with some one who Shobhaa De calls the ``prim and propah Malabar Hill memsaab''. A career politician can be held accountable at least once in five years - or five years after that. But, not so some one who has decided to ''do something for the country'' just before the elections.

This is not to say only politicians deserve to be voted to power. Gimme an independent candidate with some record of public work or civic activism, who knows his career depends on the the common wo/man. Gimme some one like Adolf D'souza, who was elected a corporator from Juhu - he was a person like you and me, but more importantly he was a grass roots activist and had a background in championing public causes as an activist with the Juhu Citizen's Welfare Group.

So, Meera Sanyal, I promise you my vote (though technically that's an impossibility as I don't stay in South Mumbai) if you still stick around for the next Lok Sabha polls. Till then I am pitching for a politician who does not have a criminal past and does not preach hate towards someone who calls God by another name, speaks a different language or was born in another state.

[Post script: The influx of independent candidates, who are trying to reach out to different constituencies of voters and create new vote banks, did however have an interesting fall out. Ms Sanyal had communicated the desire to meet the gay community to cultivate their votes and take up their issues. The proposal apparently petered out, but a beginning was made!]

[Post-post script: Ms Sanyal did have a campaign meeting with the LGBT community and issued a supportive statement. She lost the elections, though.]

Get a Dost!

``Bolder than ever'' promises the tag line of the new issue of Bombay Dost - that iconic magazine most gay men in India have heard about, but rarely seen. Not surprising since the last issue came out around seven years ago.

So, April 16 was special. A new and young team brought out the latest issue. ``This is a magazine that brought a community together,'' said Vivek Anand, CEO of the Humsafar Trust at the launch of the magazine on Thursday evening at the Oxford Book Store at Churchgate. He was not exaggerating. It was a group of friends, including Ashok Row Kavi, who founded the magazine in 1990. That tiny step, was a huge leap for gay activism as we know today.

For many gay men coming of age in the 1990s, Bombay Dost was that one ray of hope out of their closets. ``I bought my first copy from the pavements outside the CST station for Rs 200,'' said Manavendra Singh Gohil, the Prince of Rajpipla. ``I hid it in my shirt as I did not want my driver to see it. I read it cover to cover in a washroom. It was a liberating moment.''

Many gay men of the pre-Internet, pre-g4m days have similar stories to narrate - of forking out a princely sum for a copy, holding on to a dog eared copy lent by a friend while trying to memorise his instructions on handling the magazine with care.

The magazine travelled from one friend to another, some times even across borders. ``We used to receive letters from gay men in Pakistan, Afghanistan and even Tajikistan, who had managed to land their hands on a copy,'' said Kavi.

Since then it has travelled far - from underground to the shelves of prominent book stores. The magazine was launched by Bollywood actor Celina Jaitley. who has been quite ardent in her support of LGBT causes since she inaugurated the Queer Aazadi March last year. ``Thanks to my gay friends I have been a witness to the agonies and ecstasies in their lives,'' said Celina, adding, ``It is difficult to be a normal human being and still because of your sexual orientation find your family, community and society treating you as an outcast.''

(Pic courtesy: Vivek - (L to R) BD editor Vikram Phukan, Ashok Row Kavi, Celina Jaitley and Manvendra Singh Gohil at the launch of the magazine on April 16, 2009.)

Bombay Dost: Rs 150
It is available at Oxford Book Store, Churchgate and other book shops in the city.
For a peek, check this link:
http://www.bombaydost.co.in/current.html

Yeh Dostana...

Almost a week after its release, reactions have been in the extreme - there are those who absolutely loved Dostana ( a friend went with 30 screaming Parsi queens who whistled and hooted every time John Abraham walked on to the screen); and others who without doubt hated it (a friend of a friend walked out in the interval).

The last few years have seen many movies that have attempted to do a Brokeback - Onir's its-gay-but-don't-announce-it My Brother Nikhil, to the sensitive Honeymoon Travels Ltd among others (Kal Ho Na Ho, Page 3, Fashion, Rules: Pyar Ka Superhit Formula).

KJo's Dostana without doubt is the one which has finally managed to force open Bollywood's closet, with a song and dance thrown in. Ok, so two of Bollywood's top stars ``pretend'' to be gay to rent an apartment, woo a hot babe and snag a residency permit (more about that later). But, it is definitely the first movie that surely deserves a place in the Limca Book of Records (the desi version of the Guinness) as a trailblazer - for the record number of times the word ``gay'' is mentioned in a single item song (Ma da ladla...).

Abhishek's effeminate ``Venice fantasy'' offended a few, but come on who hasn't seen a prancing queen in love. Boman Irani attempts a Meryl Streep a la The Devil Wears Prada and is a disaster. In fact, all the gay guys in the movie - Irani, the visa clerk, the guy with the boyfriend in Iraq - are caricatures. If the filmmakers could have fun at the expense of the community, they could have had portrayed a loving gay couple to balance the scales.

And, the residency permit for gay couples requires a suspension of disbelief. As P said, ``Who the hell are they trying to kid?'' about the whole premise of Abhishek and John putting their residency permit applications on fast track by queuing up in the line for same sex couples. They may be in gay-friendly Miami, but they are still in the puritan US of America. A simple google search would have told them that Florida is among the 30 states which bans same sex marriages. Leave alone special consideration to same sex immigrants, it doesn't even recognise same sex partners of its own citizens.

As for the gay friendly list- here goes: John's ass, John's ass crack, John's six pack, the item songs (Desi girl, Ma da ladla, Shut up and Bounce), the John-Abhishek ``kiss'', and for the number of times the word gay is used in the movie.
For good measure, Dostana also attempts a queer reading of Bollywood: Turning conventional queer theory on the Jay-Viru ``dosti'' on its head, Abhishek points to the gay undertones in Gabbar's character (Man with a belt shouting `Kitne Aadmi the'') . Not stopping at that, he pokes pink holes at the ultra macho bhai-brotherhood of Munna and Circuit.
The defining moment in the movie was, however, Priyanka's conversation with the OTT Kirron Kher about accepting her son's sexual orientation (``accept what you cannot change''). Kher's turn as the hysterical-slap happy-smirk at the word gay-mom to the Indian version of Debbie Novotny (Queer as Folk), made Dostana a ``gay'' movie. She doesn't just accept her gay son, but goes the whole filmy hog to become the perfect gay saas - welcoming her son's ``boyfriend'' into the family with aarti, bowl of rice and even handing over the khandaani ``kangan''.

So Brokeback can wait, Bollywood has Dostana!

To B

``B died a month ago,'' he said, shattering the stillness of the smoky haze of the lit cigarettes and the Bollywood track wafting in between. We were on the terrace of Bollywood Mischief - a breather before we returned to the sauna-like conditions on the two-level dance floors below.
``How?.. I had bumped into him just recently,'' I asked.
``It was AIDS... he was one of RW kinds!''
The last time I met B was outside the lift lobby - me walking in and he heading home. ``He had looked healthy,'' I said, unable to think of anything else to say.
The details followed - a bout of pneumonia, which turned fatal because of a weakened immune syetem brought on by a refusal to go on the cocktail.
RW was the first time I heard about the AIDS-deniers - a scattered and unconnected group of individuals who believe that HIV is not the cause of AIDS. They refuse medication that could probably give them a new lease of life - both substantial and productive, in the belief that the whole HIV theory was one designed to benefit Western capitalists and pharma interest groups.
India too has its followers, the most prominent being the one calling itself the Joint Action Council Kannur (JACK), which is opposing the decriminalisation of homosexuality before the Delhi High Court. They say they don't have anything against homosexuals, but ``oppose legalising homosexuality on medical grounds- that there has never been any link established between homosexuality and AIDS''
``JACK claims that the CIA report had chosen countries like Nigeria, India, Ethiopia, Russia, China and India which were strategically important for US interests, with a view to exploit market and human resources of these ''HIV afflicted'' developing nations in a coldblooded manner for its own benefit.'' (from a news report).
All I could feel was a mix of sadness and anger. B and I were never buddies of the backslapping kind. A friend had introduced us when he joined the organisation. Our meetings were always brief and in the lobby where he would be catching up on nicotine. We would exchange some gossip, bitch a little, before saying we would meet up at the party or film festival.
It must have been B's choice, but could not forgive him for the path he had chosen.

Azaadi!

Should I wear the black tee or not. Five hours before the parade that was the question on top of my mind as Joe held up one of his tee shirts for me to wear - after two of my choices were rejected by him, T and Cedric. My argument that I was planning to wear a similar ensemble for the post-Pride party - blue denim and another of his black tees - cut little ice with him. Cedric's comment that it fit me well finally clinched the debate as I headed to work.

Having sent out the press releases the day before - the Queer Media Collective was in charge of media strategy for the march, I walked into the office relaxed. Jisha had told me Malayala Manorama print and TV crew were keen to cover the event. Finding a ``Mallu homo'' to give a sound byte was my task. Half an hour to the parade, my boss told me I would have to write about the march too - which in a way solved my problem of how to walk the parade during work hours.

Jisha, I and the MM crew approached August Kranti Maidan, and all we could see was a sea of rainbow flags and TV OB vans occupying a portion of the historic ground where the call to the British to Quit India was made in 1942.

As the oh so Mumbai- band started drumming up signalling the start of the parade, the city's very own hijra celeb Laxmi gave a call to ban section 377. One after the other gay activists took the megaphone, and then suddenly the media went into a frenzy. Even before the queens could shout ``377'' the reason for the media hysteria entered the grounds dressed in a teeny weeny printed frock and wings. Actor Celina Jaitley had arrived to collective sighs from the queens - no doubt for those killer legs they could never have, and the dykes - am sure for much more...

The drums reached a crescendo as she flagged off the march. No dykes on bikes here - but dykes doing the bhangra and jive under a huge rainbow flag that had been flown in all the way from Delhi. Rainbow flags - big and tiny - fluttered, guys and gals, str8 and gay and everything in between, Page 3 socialites with their gay-best friends, parents, brothers sisters, took to the streets as media cameras flashed.

Jisha and me, arm in arm, clutching a rainbow flag in one hand and my note pad in another, we walked the streets of Mumbai as all around us people danced, sang and shouted slogans, blew air kisses to the onlookers peering out from BEST buses and chawl balconies at the queer sight.

Mumbai's notoriously unpredictable weather gods held their peace - may be struck by the sight of the drag queen in a shimmering gold dress and boa strutting on her nine-inch stilettos, navigating the city's potholed roads with such grace as to put many ramp queens to shame.

A dash of the Goa carnival, a very Indian festive-mela atmosphere, a Marxist protest march with the singing of Hum Hoge Kamyaab at the end, a Ganpati festival inspired band-baaja - the first Queer Azaadi March was all this and more. Sure there were no floats or go go boys - but as Krsna Mehta said ``We are getting there.''

Pics by Pratap and from Geeta Kumana

For more pics pls chk: http://picasaweb.google.com/geeta.kumana

Media Coverage:
Times of India - http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Mumbai_Gays_march_against_Sec_377/rssarticleshow/3372438.cms

Mumbai Mirror - http://www.mumbaimirror.com/net/mmpaper.aspx?page=article&sectid=2&contentid=2008081720080817024703512d81ee63e

The Independent - http://blogs.independent.co.uk/independent/2008/08/gay-indians-dem.html

For more check here - http://queerazaadi.wordpress.com/media-coverage/