Chapter 1, Summer Holidays
Dear Diary,
Summer holidays weren’t that boring after all! Initially I was sad, thinking that I would be stuck in the house and in Pune city for two months, while all my friends went on vacation to various interesting places. Well, stuck in the city I was, but not in the house!!
You must be wondering what that means. Let me explain. Since we could not leave on a vacation during the summer holidays, Mom and I chalked out an itinerary for our travels and activities within the city. We were new to the city and decided to explore and discover it over a vacation. Our schedule included not just visiting places of historical importance but also of contemporary significance. In the beginning I was a little apprehensive;
“Exploring the city through this chaotic traffic and pollution,” I had asked.
“Think of it as discovering gems. Historic gems and modern day landmark establishments,” Mom has encouraged.
Even before we moved to Pune, we had heard a lot about the city. That it’s called as the `Queen of the Deccan’ was very impressive. Although, I never really tried finding out why it was called so? This second largest city of Maharashtra state is also known as the `Oxford of the East’ because of the premier educational institutions located here, some of which were the first in the country.
The `Cultural capital of Maharashtra’ - Pune most certainly is. A few months stay in Pune is enough to teach you that! Particularly during Ganesh utsav. Festivals here are livened up by a number of cultural programmes including classical as well as folk and contemporary dance, drama and music. This tradition bound city continues to host and support events which have been coming down from generations; like the recently held Palki of Sant Jyaneshwar and Tukaram. I shall tell you more about it when I narrate my visit to Alandi!
Pune was also called a `Pensioners Paradise’. This was because many senior citizens from neighboring cities, mainly from Bombay, preferred the peace and quite of Pune to settle down post retirement. Nestled in the Sahayadri Mountains, 560 m above sea level, along the confluence of the rivers Mula and Mutta, this picturesque city is inviting even today. But this sobriquet, `pensioners paradise’ for this bustling city is certainly a misnomer today.
Pune is thriving with young people from all over the country. They are either studying in one of the many colleges or working at the innumerable number of Indian as well as Multinational companies. There is also a large contingent of international student population. Added to this is the vast migrant population of artisans and skilled labour, who in search of work have made Pune their home. Today Pune has a population of over 45 lakh.
Pune definitely holds a great future. As a 12 yr old, even I can sense the promise the city holds for youngsters like me, in terms of education and opportunities. But its glorious past I was yet to discover. I will share with you my experiences. It has been a long journey. Not just discovering a city, but also its soul. In the process, not just was I learning more about the city but I was also beginning to feel more at home here!
Chapter 2, Shaniwarwada
Dear Diary,
I must have gone past the Shaniwarwada at least a few times in the past one year of being in the city, but was never interested in visiting the historical monument. So, when Mom suggested that Shaniwarwada was the first destination on our `Pune Darshan’ itinerary, I wasn’t very excited. “Why, Shaniwarwada?” I had said.
“Let’s begin at the very core,” she said, “Shaniwarwada was not just the political and cultural hub of the Peshwas, but also was and still is, the very heart of the city. Geographically too, it is located in Central Pune.”
Very soon we were navigating our way through the most crowed part of the city in a rickshaw. Our driver tried hard to dodge past the cyclist and, pedestrians, who seemed to jump in front our rickshaw, like pop up screens on my computer! Mom’s decision to not take our car through this chaotic traffic made complete sense.
“Not bad at all!” I thought as I stood in front of the impressive Delhi Gate or the main gate made of metal and wood with large spikes, so that even the enemies elephants will not succeed in forcing open the doors. For a structure that began as a residential mansion or `Wada’ to house the royal families of the Peshwas, Shaniwarwada was colossal. “That’s because, successive Peshwas added this stone fortification walls, bastions and gates” explained Mom. She had read about the monument before coming. “It took two years to build, from 10th January 1730 to 22nd January 1732. The entire complex spreads over an area of 150mx 200m (6.25 acres) and housed at least a 1000 people.”
“In all there are 5 gates,” the monument caretaker had chipped in, seeing me admiring the main gate. “The Dilli Darwaja was used by the Peshwas to set out for all their military campaigns. The others are Mastani or Alibahadur Darwaja, Khidki Darwaja, Ganesh Darwaja, and Narayan Darwaja,” he concluded. When I smiled, he wanted to engage me further with the many interesting and mysterious `stories’ about the Wada. I said “some other time” and continued with my exploration. Actually, I had heard of a few `stories’ from my classmates. But facts, like the name Shaniwarwada, for the largest Wada in Pune, was because construction began on a Shaniwar or Saturday, were really unique!!
For a monument which was destroyed by many calamities, like the fire in 1828, there is a lot to see within Shaniwarwada. The surviving foundations of minor mansions, regal halls, stables, kitchens and toilets are all so interesting. From our readings we knew that the layout of the entire Wada was spread out around two central courtyards. The much talked about Hazare Karanje or the `thousand’ spouted fountain, in the shape of a 196 petal lotus not just spoke of the decorative style of the times, but also of the intricate water works of those days. I didn’t know, until the caretaker informed me, that the water source for the fountain was an underground conduit that came from a lake in Katraj, 18kms away!
It was good fun climbing up the steps and walking along the fort walls. The view of the bustling city from the Nagarkahana, the special music gallery, set above the main gate transported me to the Peshwa era! For a moment I was Peshwa Bajirao I, addressing his people from his citadel!! Whatever the case, I was getting more and more intrigued by this city of Wadas’…..
Showing posts with label Maharashtra Herald Young Buzz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Maharashtra Herald Young Buzz. Show all posts
Friday, May 14, 2010
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Monsoon Magic
Monsoon Magic
Mihika was bored. It was only a month and half since school started and she already wanted a break! She was waiting to get out of the school-home-school routine and do something exciting. So when Aunty Anchal suggested a trip to Tamhini Ghat, located a little beyond Mulshi, near Pune, Mihika was delighted. Aunty Anchal was a lecturer and mom’s good friend. She was an avid trekker and never missed the opportunity to explore the countryside. Besides, she was good fun to be with.
As planned, Aunty and Mihika set off in a car on a Saturday morning. It was a clear day with a hint of impending rain. Once out of the city, the drive was beginning to get interesting! Mihika could not imagine that the rains had transformed the landscape to such an extant. Every leaf and pebble sparkled. She was totally entranced by the sheer beauty of the streams, waterfalls, fields, mountains and valleys which sped past her.
They finally stopped near a rivulet at Tamhini. Mihika rushed out of the car and stood motionless, sensing the freshness in the air, the vastness of the sky, and the brilliance of Mother Earth. She removed her shoes and felt the grass on her feet. Aunty was happy to see Mihika so excited. She suggested a short trek across the hill.
As they trekked along Mihika noticed that Aunty was inspecting the plants and streamlets very closely. Mihika wondered why! On asking, Aunty pointed out an insect in the stream.
“Its walking on water!”, Mihika said in amazement, looking at the spider like insect with long legs.
“That’s called a Water Skater” Aunty explained. She also pointed out to a water beetle, which looked like a chikoo seed floating on the water and a toad near the stream. She explained how toads have spots on their back and were different from frogs, which are generally smooth skinned.
Sensing Mihika’s interest, Aunty went on to show her bug hoppers and grass hoppers on bushes. Some grass hoppers, she said, look green during the rains and brown during the summer months. Mihika had studied about `camouflage’ wherein animals change their color so as to blend with the surrounding environment and cannot be noticed easily and thus protect themselves from any harm! Aunty also showed her different kinds of centipedes and millipedes. Although exaggerated, centipedes are supposed to have a hundred legs and millipedes, a million!
Aunty explained how trekking becomes even more exciting when one tries to see, hear, and appreciate life forms like, insects, reptiles, butterflies, birds and such within or on the trees, plants and water bodies. On the short trek that followed Mihika learnt how to recognise the loud call of the Malabar Giant Squirrel, to identify male and female minivets and the Malabar Whistling Thrush, birds so common around Pune.
Mihika was so happy to learn about these little creatures. Back at home she wrote a small essay on her trip; the memories of which she knew would remain with her forever.
Bina Thomas
Mihika was bored. It was only a month and half since school started and she already wanted a break! She was waiting to get out of the school-home-school routine and do something exciting. So when Aunty Anchal suggested a trip to Tamhini Ghat, located a little beyond Mulshi, near Pune, Mihika was delighted. Aunty Anchal was a lecturer and mom’s good friend. She was an avid trekker and never missed the opportunity to explore the countryside. Besides, she was good fun to be with.
As planned, Aunty and Mihika set off in a car on a Saturday morning. It was a clear day with a hint of impending rain. Once out of the city, the drive was beginning to get interesting! Mihika could not imagine that the rains had transformed the landscape to such an extant. Every leaf and pebble sparkled. She was totally entranced by the sheer beauty of the streams, waterfalls, fields, mountains and valleys which sped past her.
They finally stopped near a rivulet at Tamhini. Mihika rushed out of the car and stood motionless, sensing the freshness in the air, the vastness of the sky, and the brilliance of Mother Earth. She removed her shoes and felt the grass on her feet. Aunty was happy to see Mihika so excited. She suggested a short trek across the hill.
As they trekked along Mihika noticed that Aunty was inspecting the plants and streamlets very closely. Mihika wondered why! On asking, Aunty pointed out an insect in the stream.
“Its walking on water!”, Mihika said in amazement, looking at the spider like insect with long legs.
“That’s called a Water Skater” Aunty explained. She also pointed out to a water beetle, which looked like a chikoo seed floating on the water and a toad near the stream. She explained how toads have spots on their back and were different from frogs, which are generally smooth skinned.
Sensing Mihika’s interest, Aunty went on to show her bug hoppers and grass hoppers on bushes. Some grass hoppers, she said, look green during the rains and brown during the summer months. Mihika had studied about `camouflage’ wherein animals change their color so as to blend with the surrounding environment and cannot be noticed easily and thus protect themselves from any harm! Aunty also showed her different kinds of centipedes and millipedes. Although exaggerated, centipedes are supposed to have a hundred legs and millipedes, a million!
Aunty explained how trekking becomes even more exciting when one tries to see, hear, and appreciate life forms like, insects, reptiles, butterflies, birds and such within or on the trees, plants and water bodies. On the short trek that followed Mihika learnt how to recognise the loud call of the Malabar Giant Squirrel, to identify male and female minivets and the Malabar Whistling Thrush, birds so common around Pune.
Mihika was so happy to learn about these little creatures. Back at home she wrote a small essay on her trip; the memories of which she knew would remain with her forever.
Bina Thomas
Be the change!!
The words kept churning in his mind. “Be the change you want to see in the world”.
“He is right. It makes sense to work towards change, rather than sit and crib about every system in the country,” thought Siddharth. Although the old man, had not gone into great lengths to explain what he meant by those words, the more Siddhart thought about it, the more grown up and responsible he felt.
It all began one morning when Siddhart and his friends were waiting for their Junior college admission forms. The queue was so long that it seemed to snake through the entire college campus! Siddhart and his friends were still far away from the counter and the queue was moving at a snails pace!! By noon they were most certain that they would miss the afternoon show at the multiplex. That one thought got them agitated. Their cool attitude in the morning was replaced by anger. Their irritation showed and their frustration took a voice.
“The system is all in a mess. It’s so faulty and slow” complained Siddhart. “Why can’t they have a couple of more counters to process freshers’ application?”
“Such inefficiency,” growled Udhav, “its either tea break or lunch time. When will all this change?” Udhav sounded exasperated.
“Nothing will change,” concluded Anand.
“Why don’t you make an effort?” said a voice from behind them.
The startled boys turned around and saw an old man standing behind them in the same queue. The boys were so immersed in themselves that they hadn’t noticed the old man or anyone around them. Suddenly they became aware of the crowd, the noise, the heat, the restlessness written on everyone’s face.
“I have been listening to your endless complains,” said the old man, “why don’t you do something about your misery?”
“What can we do, if the staff and authorities are not doing anything about it,” Siddhart defended himself.
“Be the change you want to see in the world,” said the old man prophetically.
“I too had a lot of complaints at your age,” he continued, “of a different kind though. We were being treated as a second class citizen in our country. We were restricted entry into certain clubs and theaters. We wanted our situation to change. And, that’s when the words of the Mahatma “Be the change you want to see in the world” made an impression on me and my friends. If you are not happy with the way things are, go ahead and try to make it better,” the old man concluded.
“And then did you ring in the change,” Udhav was curious.
“Yes, we did,” he said with pride. “Today our country is our own. We are free from bondage. Initially, we disagreed with Gandhiji’s ideas of non-violence, non-cooperation, or Satyagraha. But slowly the meaning and value of his teachings dawned on us. We joined the youth movement of those times. Yes, it was a struggle. But when I see young people like you, free and happy, I know the effort was worth it,” he smiled.
The boys were very impressed. As they headed back home, each one was thinking aloud on how to go about requesting the authorities to allow for few more counters at the admission form collection centre.
“The old man has done his bit by shaking us up, and now, I just can’t seem to sleep thinking about how to proceed to bring about change,” Siddhart smiled to himself as he tossed and turned in bed.
Bina Thomas
The words kept churning in his mind. “Be the change you want to see in the world”.
“He is right. It makes sense to work towards change, rather than sit and crib about every system in the country,” thought Siddharth. Although the old man, had not gone into great lengths to explain what he meant by those words, the more Siddhart thought about it, the more grown up and responsible he felt.
It all began one morning when Siddhart and his friends were waiting for their Junior college admission forms. The queue was so long that it seemed to snake through the entire college campus! Siddhart and his friends were still far away from the counter and the queue was moving at a snails pace!! By noon they were most certain that they would miss the afternoon show at the multiplex. That one thought got them agitated. Their cool attitude in the morning was replaced by anger. Their irritation showed and their frustration took a voice.
“The system is all in a mess. It’s so faulty and slow” complained Siddhart. “Why can’t they have a couple of more counters to process freshers’ application?”
“Such inefficiency,” growled Udhav, “its either tea break or lunch time. When will all this change?” Udhav sounded exasperated.
“Nothing will change,” concluded Anand.
“Why don’t you make an effort?” said a voice from behind them.
The startled boys turned around and saw an old man standing behind them in the same queue. The boys were so immersed in themselves that they hadn’t noticed the old man or anyone around them. Suddenly they became aware of the crowd, the noise, the heat, the restlessness written on everyone’s face.
“I have been listening to your endless complains,” said the old man, “why don’t you do something about your misery?”
“What can we do, if the staff and authorities are not doing anything about it,” Siddhart defended himself.
“Be the change you want to see in the world,” said the old man prophetically.
“I too had a lot of complaints at your age,” he continued, “of a different kind though. We were being treated as a second class citizen in our country. We were restricted entry into certain clubs and theaters. We wanted our situation to change. And, that’s when the words of the Mahatma “Be the change you want to see in the world” made an impression on me and my friends. If you are not happy with the way things are, go ahead and try to make it better,” the old man concluded.
“And then did you ring in the change,” Udhav was curious.
“Yes, we did,” he said with pride. “Today our country is our own. We are free from bondage. Initially, we disagreed with Gandhiji’s ideas of non-violence, non-cooperation, or Satyagraha. But slowly the meaning and value of his teachings dawned on us. We joined the youth movement of those times. Yes, it was a struggle. But when I see young people like you, free and happy, I know the effort was worth it,” he smiled.
The boys were very impressed. As they headed back home, each one was thinking aloud on how to go about requesting the authorities to allow for few more counters at the admission form collection centre.
“The old man has done his bit by shaking us up, and now, I just can’t seem to sleep thinking about how to proceed to bring about change,” Siddhart smiled to himself as he tossed and turned in bed.
Bina Thomas
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Raja Ravi Verma at Malavli!
Raja Ravi Verma at Malavli!
Bina Thomas ( binatho@gmail.com )
Dear Diary,
Mom and I were driving towards Pune after visiting the amazing rock cut prayer halls at Karle and Bhaja. Suddenly Mom asked me if we could stop by at Malavli, a village by the expressway. I was a little tired after our morning trek and was longing to reach home and rest. But when I heard Mom say “Raja Ravi Verma’s press” I was interested.
Earlier on Mom had told me about Raja Ravi Verma, a 19th century prince and painter from Kerala. He belonged to the royal family of Travancore (South Kerala). He began painting at a young age and his works are world renowned. I have seen them on the internet. Ravi Verma’s real life portrayal of human figures, especially in scenes from Indian mythology and ancient literature are very beautiful. Various palaces hosted him as a special guest and he created enchanting portraits of its royal residents. He is even credited to have `dressed’ our Hindu goddesses and gods in sarees and dhotis!! “And what did the Prince have to do in this remote village in Pune? Isn’t that what you are wondering about?” Mom’s question shook me out of my reverie, and I agreed.
She explained that printing technology was advancing at that time. German printing machines for oleographs or prints of paintings were gaining popularity. A press was started in Bombay for the same purpose. Prints of Raja Ravi Verma's paintings of Hindu gods and goddesses were made available to public and it gained acceptability among the ordinary people. This was the beginning of `calendar art’ in India. Today, can one imagine an Indian household without pictures or calendars of gods and goddesses? But the press had to be shut down due to various reasons. Raja Ravi Verma shifted out the press from Bombay and in 1896 set it up in Malavli; a quite and peaceful village not too far from Bombay and close to Peshwai Pune. Later the press was sold to one of his German technicians, and sometime later was shut down. Descendents of the German owner now own the property.
With permission from the guards, we entered the 100 acres of private property. We strolled around the press building, and surveyed its dilapidated condition. The guard informed us that apart from a couple of printing machines and perhaps a few oleographs strewn around the few rooms that housed the press there was nothing in the locked building.
Our visit was like homage to the great painter. As we continued our journey home, Mom and I discussed the possibility of converting the building and premises of the Raja Ravi Verma Press into a museum or an institute for Fine Arts. Is someone listening?
Bina Thomas ( binatho@gmail.com )
Dear Diary,
Mom and I were driving towards Pune after visiting the amazing rock cut prayer halls at Karle and Bhaja. Suddenly Mom asked me if we could stop by at Malavli, a village by the expressway. I was a little tired after our morning trek and was longing to reach home and rest. But when I heard Mom say “Raja Ravi Verma’s press” I was interested.
Earlier on Mom had told me about Raja Ravi Verma, a 19th century prince and painter from Kerala. He belonged to the royal family of Travancore (South Kerala). He began painting at a young age and his works are world renowned. I have seen them on the internet. Ravi Verma’s real life portrayal of human figures, especially in scenes from Indian mythology and ancient literature are very beautiful. Various palaces hosted him as a special guest and he created enchanting portraits of its royal residents. He is even credited to have `dressed’ our Hindu goddesses and gods in sarees and dhotis!! “And what did the Prince have to do in this remote village in Pune? Isn’t that what you are wondering about?” Mom’s question shook me out of my reverie, and I agreed.
She explained that printing technology was advancing at that time. German printing machines for oleographs or prints of paintings were gaining popularity. A press was started in Bombay for the same purpose. Prints of Raja Ravi Verma's paintings of Hindu gods and goddesses were made available to public and it gained acceptability among the ordinary people. This was the beginning of `calendar art’ in India. Today, can one imagine an Indian household without pictures or calendars of gods and goddesses? But the press had to be shut down due to various reasons. Raja Ravi Verma shifted out the press from Bombay and in 1896 set it up in Malavli; a quite and peaceful village not too far from Bombay and close to Peshwai Pune. Later the press was sold to one of his German technicians, and sometime later was shut down. Descendents of the German owner now own the property.
With permission from the guards, we entered the 100 acres of private property. We strolled around the press building, and surveyed its dilapidated condition. The guard informed us that apart from a couple of printing machines and perhaps a few oleographs strewn around the few rooms that housed the press there was nothing in the locked building.
Our visit was like homage to the great painter. As we continued our journey home, Mom and I discussed the possibility of converting the building and premises of the Raja Ravi Verma Press into a museum or an institute for Fine Arts. Is someone listening?
Anaconda in my backyard!!!
Anaconda in my backyard!!!
Bina Thomas ( binatho@gmail.com )
Nandini was very happy. Her dear friend, Meghna, was visiting her during the holidays. For friends who had grown up together in the same city and school, Nandini’s shift to a new city had been heartbreaking for both. So, when Nandini heard of Meghna's visit during the holidays, she was delighted. Finally they would be chatting away like old times. In person, and not on email!!
And there was so much that Nandini wanted to show Meghna. Her brand new pink room, her new computer and study table, the smart glass cupboard which displayed all her precious curio collection, and the old trunk that Nandini was nostalgic about, chock-a-block with stuff toys that they shared when they were younger.
However there was one silent prayer on her mind. May Meghna never open the window overlooking the backyard of her building!! The Anaconda would strike her and she would be smitten with disapproval of her room, house, building, and perhaps even the posh locality they lived in!! Nandini couldn’t bear the though of it.
Actually what Nandini called an `Anaconda’ was a dirty, smelly nalla flowing behind the building. Till just a few months ago, this dirty, smelly nalla was a stream. A gently flowing tributary of the river the city was located by. But things had changed so rapidly in the last few months. Many new construction activities were sprouting in the vicinity. Initially, it was the construction debris from these sites that was very conveniently dumped by the edge of the stream. The workers were instructed by the contractors to do so. Slowly, the heap of debris became a curtain for the workers to use the stream as a common toilet!! And when residents came in to occupy these buildings, it became a common dump yard for all kinds of domestic waste!!! To the extent, that the once gurgling stream turned into an unbearably smelly nalla that snaked the area, like a dark and dense Anaconda!!!. Post monsoons it had even stopped flowing. The stagnant nalla not only looked ugly, it also posed a threat to the resident's health.
“But why don’t you do something about it?” asked Meghna, when she did open the window and saw the dirty nalla. Nandini was clueless. “At least begin by asking friends and neighbors to suggest what we could do to prevent further pollution of the nalla,” Meghna clarified. “I am sure we will find somebody who will help in this matter”.
And sure they did. Not one. Many residents. Seniors were soon writing letters and talking to people in authority like the Area Ward officers, and Corporators. They were geared up to even meet the Municipal Commissioner if needed. The two friends were very happy that things were moving. The fact was, the residents were equally concerned about the matter, but were perhaps waiting for `coordinators’ like Nandini and Meghna to bring them together and `push’ them forward.
Bina Thomas ( binatho@gmail.com )
Nandini was very happy. Her dear friend, Meghna, was visiting her during the holidays. For friends who had grown up together in the same city and school, Nandini’s shift to a new city had been heartbreaking for both. So, when Nandini heard of Meghna's visit during the holidays, she was delighted. Finally they would be chatting away like old times. In person, and not on email!!
And there was so much that Nandini wanted to show Meghna. Her brand new pink room, her new computer and study table, the smart glass cupboard which displayed all her precious curio collection, and the old trunk that Nandini was nostalgic about, chock-a-block with stuff toys that they shared when they were younger.
However there was one silent prayer on her mind. May Meghna never open the window overlooking the backyard of her building!! The Anaconda would strike her and she would be smitten with disapproval of her room, house, building, and perhaps even the posh locality they lived in!! Nandini couldn’t bear the though of it.
Actually what Nandini called an `Anaconda’ was a dirty, smelly nalla flowing behind the building. Till just a few months ago, this dirty, smelly nalla was a stream. A gently flowing tributary of the river the city was located by. But things had changed so rapidly in the last few months. Many new construction activities were sprouting in the vicinity. Initially, it was the construction debris from these sites that was very conveniently dumped by the edge of the stream. The workers were instructed by the contractors to do so. Slowly, the heap of debris became a curtain for the workers to use the stream as a common toilet!! And when residents came in to occupy these buildings, it became a common dump yard for all kinds of domestic waste!!! To the extent, that the once gurgling stream turned into an unbearably smelly nalla that snaked the area, like a dark and dense Anaconda!!!. Post monsoons it had even stopped flowing. The stagnant nalla not only looked ugly, it also posed a threat to the resident's health.
“But why don’t you do something about it?” asked Meghna, when she did open the window and saw the dirty nalla. Nandini was clueless. “At least begin by asking friends and neighbors to suggest what we could do to prevent further pollution of the nalla,” Meghna clarified. “I am sure we will find somebody who will help in this matter”.
And sure they did. Not one. Many residents. Seniors were soon writing letters and talking to people in authority like the Area Ward officers, and Corporators. They were geared up to even meet the Municipal Commissioner if needed. The two friends were very happy that things were moving. The fact was, the residents were equally concerned about the matter, but were perhaps waiting for `coordinators’ like Nandini and Meghna to bring them together and `push’ them forward.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)