Getting Away from It All: India’s Top 10 Great Escapes

ANURAG MALLICK and PRIYA GANAPATHY showcase India’s ‘coolest’ destinations, from Himalayan retreats, beach holidays to legendary hill stations

There are many things for which we blame the British – cricket, bureaucracy, railways, tea and anglicized spellings – but the quaint ‘hill-station’ has to be their most charming contribution. From Snooty Ooty in the Neilgherries where the rules of snooker were laid down, to Simla in the Himalayas, where imperial plans were drawn every summer, most hill retreats were ‘discovered’ by British collectors to escape the scorching heat of the plains. Complete with lakes, botanical gardens, pony trails, golf courses, racetracks, bakeries, the ubiquitous Mall Road and scenic viewpoints and waterfalls named after Company officials and British memsahibs, these Little Englands were hailed as ‘Scotland of the East’, ‘Switzerland of India’, ‘Queen of Hill-Stations’ and other grand epithets.

Some of these hill retreats were developed into sanatoriums and cantonments of the British Empire, where homesick soldiers found rest and respite. The term Doolaly, Brit slang for ‘gone crazy’, originated in the hill town of Deolali in Maharashtra where recuperating soldiers often feigned madness to avoid being redrafted! Netarhat in Jharkhand, considered the Queen of Chhotanagpur, is supposedly a corruption of ‘Near the Heart’! The cool climes drew European planters to set up vast estates of coffee, tea, fruits and spices while missionaries established educational institutions. With time, these outposts became summer retreats for a vast Indian populace.

However, not all hill stations were British finds. Kodaikanal is credited to the Americans while Indian rulers developed their own summer capitals – Almora and Binsar by the Chand Rajas of Kumaon, Kemmangundi by Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV, while Chail was created by Bhupinder Singh, the swashbuckling Maharaja of Patiala to peeve the British after he was banished from Simla for eloping with a British lady! From Horsley Hills in Andhra Pradesh to Pachmarhi in Madhya Pradesh or Saputara in Gujarat to Mount Abu in Rajasthan, the state’s only hill station, India’s cool hideaways stretch from the Western Ghats to the Himalayas. Here are 10 great picks…

1. Nilgiris (Tamil Nadu)
Lured by the irresistible charm of the swirling mist and eucalyptus-scented air wafting above the sweeping acres of manicured tea plantations, for decades tourists have wound their way up the hairpin bends towards the Blue Mountains. Sprawling bungalows with sloping roofs, monkeytops and vibrant gardens hark back to the colonial legacy of the region while the looming hills cloaked by dense forests are still home to herds of elephant and gaur. If Ooty seems too commercial and Kotagiri somewhat warm, Coonoor is indeed the perfect balance! One of the newest retreats is Tea Nest, run by The Kurumba Village Resort. Surrounded by 1,800 acres of the Singara Tea Estate, the charming colonial bungalow is perched in the shadow of Tiger Hill with its lofty manager’s bungalow and Pakkasuran Hill where Tipu Sultan had an outpost. Relish tea-themed cuisine like tea-mushroom soup and smoked chicken or fish infused in tea, wake up to grazing herds of gaur among the tea bushes or birdwatch from the comfort of your lofty lair. Drop by at Needlecraft in the century old Erin Villa to browse through exclusive petit point embroidery, cutwork and tapestry. Try tea-tasting at the Tranquilitea lounge and buy organic hill produce, Toda shawls and Kota stone pottery at the Green Shop. For complete pampering, surrender yourself to Kurumba’s brand new Jacuzzi suites.

2. Wayanad (Kerala)
With a sweltering coastline, Kerala’s highlands are the ideal refuge – plantation bungalows in Nilambur and Nelliyampathy to Neelambari, the luxurious Ayurvedic hideaway in a pristine corner of Ranipuram. Yet, Wayanad with its rolling hills and profusion of homestays and resorts is a clear winner. Enjoy solitude in a 500-acre plantation left to grow wild at Fringe Ford near Mananthavady. Stay in luxurious tree houses at Vythiri Resort and Tranquil Plantation Getaway, where you wake up to the carefree whistles of the Malabar Whistling Thrush or choose from 14 nature trails within the property. Rekindle romance in a cave restaurant lit in the warm glow of a hundred candles at Edakkal Hermitage and marvel at Stone Age cave drawings nearby. The newest entrant My Garden of Eden, is a premium plantation retreat set in the hilly tracts of Valathoor near Meppady. Don’t forget to drop by at Uravu near the district headquarters of Kalpetta for an astonishing range of bamboo instruments like binsi (a hollow reed that whistles when swung), rainmaker (cascading seeds that emit sounds of the rain) and other innovative products.

3. Coorg (Karnataka)
Blessed with nature’s bounty of hills, waterfalls and brooks, Coorg or Kodagu is a paradise that boasts dense forests teeming with wildlife, lush coffee and pepper plantations grown in the shade of rainforest trees, unmatched culture, unique cuisine and the genuine warmth of Kodava hospitality. From rustic and organic homestays overlooking estates and paddy fields to palatial plantation bungalows of the colonial era, Karnataka’s smallest and most mountainous region is also the fountainhead of the Cauvery, South India’s greatest river. Stay at Neemrana’s Green Hills Estate in Virajpet, a town formed after King Virarajendra met Lord Abercrombie to form a historic pact against Tipu, their common enemy. Straddle the Kerala border at Kabbe Holidays and walk along historic trade routes or base yourself at Palace Estate near Kakkabe and trek to Thadiyendamol, the highest peak in Coorg. Discover organic farming at the Rainforest Retreat or stay at exclusive heritage homestays like School Estate in Siddapur, Gowri Nivas in Madikeri and Java Mane near Madapur. For a cool splash in streams, choose from a new clutch of homestays like Silver Brook Estate or Bird of Paradise around Kushalnagar or resorts like Amanvana, Tamara and Kadkani River Resort. Or immerse yourself in colonial comfort at Tata Coffee’s Plantation Trail bungalows around Pollibetta.

4. Spiti (Himachal)
If Shimla, Manali, Dharamsala and Dalhousie sound too familiar and you’ve been to Ladakh already, head to the Himalayan realm of Spiti for a change. Abutting the Tibetan highlands in eastern Himachal Pradesh, the region is dotted by some of the loftiest homestays in the Himalayas. Perched above the left bank of the Spiti river are the high altitude villages of Langza, Komic (the highest in Asia), Demul, Lhalung and Dhankar, the site of a crumbling monastery that was the first to be built in Spiti and as per legend will be the last to fall. Plan a tour with Spiti Ecosphere to uncover a mystical world of gompas (Buddhist monasteries), amchis (traditional medicine men), Bon traditions (animist religion preceding Buddhism) and unique experiences like the Tibetan Wolf Trail, protecting fossil sanctuaries, Yak Safaris and River Rafting. For a more inclusive experience, participate in rural development projects in this remote and rugged region as you watch locals involved in eco livelihoods like hand-woven handicrafts and organic products available under the brand name Tsering (blessing in Tibetan).

5. Lake District (Uttarakhand)
Unobstructed views of the Himalayas often stretching across 300 km, stunning high altitude lakes and mythical tales of the divine infuse Uttarakhand with untold magic. The period when the mountains are awash with the fiery glow of rhododendrons leaves every visitor spellbound. Explore the Lake District of Nainital, a reflection of the emerald green eyes of Sati, the majestic Bhimtal and Sat-Tal and the nine-cornered Naukuchiyatal that bestows everlasting bliss on the beholder. Follow the high mountain road to Ranikhet and Majkhali or hike from Nainital to Corbett through forests of broad-leafed sal, oak and deodar, while staying at jungle lodges or century old Forest Rest Houses. Beyond the hill town of Almora, lies the quaint hamlet of Kasar Devi, where spiritual masters, artists and beat poets sought inspiration while Binsar doubles up as a wildlife sanctuary and a hill station. Scenic homestays like Valley View Villa near Ranikhet, The Cottage at Jeolikot, Emily Lodge at Nainital, Emerald Trail at Bhimtal and a chain of resorts by Leisure Hotels across Kumaon and Garhwal offer an assorted bouquet of options. The signature jams, pickles, preserves and flavoured honey available under the Kumaoni label and warm woolens can be picked up at Umang, a local co-operative.

6. Meghalaya (North East)
A delicious nip in the air along undulating roads and strains of retro music emanating from cafés and mobile phones announces Shillong, touted as the Rock Capital of the East. Picture postcard images unfold in scenic churches, old schools and hill slopes swathed in green. Relive colonial grandeur in sprawling bungalows like Rosaville and the regal Tripura Castle or soak in the luxury of Ri Kynjai resort overlooking the shimmering Lake Umiam at Barapani. Watch locals wager on the age-old game of teer (archery) in the market area, marvel at the dazzling collection of beetles and butterflies at a private museum and savour delicious Khasi cuisine in homes and tiny hotels like Trattoria. Unfold the secrets of ancient root bridges, sacred stones and lonely waterfalls in Mawlynnong, the cleanest village in Asia and at the rain-drenched paradise of Cherrapunjee, track the Dark Rumped Swift swooping along the misty cliffs of Nohkalikai Falls. In this Abode of Clouds, there are other surprises – the surreal limestone contortions of Mawsmai Caves, the sacred groves of Mawflong, fish spas in natural pools and even a Double-Decker Root Bridge!

7. Konkan Coast (Maharashtra)
The Konkan coast of Maharashtra can rejuvenate your senses in a delicate fusion of nature, peace, solitude and simple pastoral life. From the irrepressible joy of eating luscious Ratnagiri mangoes to golden sunsets along the sea-kissed beaches of Kashid and the historic sea fort of Murud-Janjira to the north and Ganpatipule, Devgad, Sindhudurg, Tarkarli and Sangameshwar stretching to the south. Just off the coast, choose from a host of homestays like Atithi Parinay, Nandan Farms and Dwarka Farmhouse that offer special experiences of farm life. Relish flavours that range from the subtle sattvik fare of Saraswat Brahmins to the spicy indulgence of seafood and Malvani cuisine. Pick up hand-painted pieces of Ganjifa Art at the Sawantwadi Palace or lacquerware toys from Chitaar Ali (Artisans Lane) before driving up to Amboli Ghat. If this is not enough, head north to the high hills of Lonavla, Matheran, Mahabaleshwar and Panchgani for breathtaking views and local specialties like chikkis, sweet corn, homemade chocolates and fudge.

8. Canacona/Palolem (South Goa)
Far from the psychedelic beach scene of North Goa, serpentine roads lead south to the quieter shores of Canacona and Palolem. Just beyond the main bus stand lies a 12,000 sq ft oasis called Turiya where you can experience a legit mode of mind expansion! Inspired by the fourth state of consciousness, the newly opened 100-year-old yellow Portuguese villa draped by bougainvillea creepers houses a spa offering authentic Ayurvedic and western therapies. Renovated by a well-known architect, the impeccably furnished Turiya exudes a sensual lazy charm with delicious home-cooked food and a cozy verandah overlooking a garden twittering with birds. Personalized visits to the local market for fresh fish and nearby farms to hand pick your choice of vegetables make the holiday unique. If you can drag yourself out of the armchair, there’s Palolem beach just 2km away with bistros and boutiques or the serene Agonda Beach 10 km north, boat trips to Butterfly Island and the promise of dolphin sightings, day trips to Cotigao Wildlife Sanctuary and Karwar (Karnataka), besides some of the most scenic trekking trails in South Goa.

9. Darjeeling/Sikkim (North East)
Surrounded by tea plantations and cradled in the lap of the mighty Kangchenjunga mountain, Darjeeling’s allure has always inspired poets, writers and filmmakers besides scores of tourists to roost upon its cool slopes. Visit local factories to taste the eponymous Darjeeling tea or take a ride in the UNESCO World Heritage train, the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway (DHR) up the Batasia Loops to Ghoom. Apart from a slew of resorts and plantation bungalows, you can check in at the unique Beatles theme lodge, The Revolver, with rooms named after John, Paul, Ringo and George! A more plush option is Mayfair Darjeeling, the erstwhile palace of the Maharaja of Nazargunj. Their newest offering, the ritzy Mayfair Spa Resort in Gangtok fuses a monastic theme with colonial architecture and has raised the bar for luxury in the North East. While in Sikkim, the land of prayer flags and chortens, visit Buddhist monasteries at Pemayangstse, Rumtek and Tashiding and experience the warm hospitality of heritage homestays like Yangsum Farm at Rinchepong, Mayal Lyang at Dzongu and Bon Farmhouse, a birding haven at Kewzing.

10. Andamans
It is hard to imagine that a notorious penal settlement of yesteryears is today a tropical isle of pleasure. While the remoteness of the Andaman Islands has worked in its favour, its sparse population and laid back charm accentuates the privacy one seeks on a holiday. Located 1000km east of the Indian coastline and fringed by coral reefs and a palette of crystal clear blue waters, the islands are among the finest beach getaways and diving destinations in the world. Take a trip into history in the triad of Port Blair, described as India’s only ‘warm hill station’, Viper Island and the ruins of Ross Island once praised as the Paris of the East. Sunsets at Chidiya Tapu and Mount Hariett, snorkeling above iridescent coral reefs at North Bay and Wandoor, deep sea diving and sport fishing around Ritchie’s Archipelago are not to be missed. Havelock, the main tourist hub bristles with resorts and diving experts like Barefoot Scuba, Dive India, Laccadives etc. Visit during April-May as the waters become murky once the monsoons set in. Grab a tan at Radhanagar Beach, ranked by Time magazine as the best beach in Asia. Scenic Neil Island nearby has a subdued ambience and rustic stay options, making it an offbeat outpost. Besides regular boat access between the main islands, the swanky Makruzz cruise zips across 50km from Port Blair to Havelock in just 1½ hours!

Authors: Anurag Mallick & Priya Ganapathy. This article appeared on 8 April, 2012 in Deccan Herald (Sunday edition). 

Jodhpur: Jewel of Marwar

ANURAG MALLICK and PRIYA GANAPATHY visit the Rathore capitals of Mandore and Jodhpur in Rajasthan to find out what makes Mehrangarh Fort so invincible and other secrets of the walled city

No matter where you are in Jodhpur, you cannot escape the looming presence of the citadel of Mehrangarh, which dominates the city’s skyline. Perched at 400 ft on a rocky hill, the intricacy of its jharokhas (windows) and architectural grandeur moved Rudyard Kipling to call it ‘the work of angels and giants’. From Indique, the rooftop restaurant at Pal Haveli, a stunning 18^th century heritage hotel, the red sandstone fort gleamed like a ruby in the early morning sun. By night, halogen lights transformed it into a bejeweled tiara resting upon Jodhpur’s proud forehead. But under all its glitter, Mehrangarh hides a grim tale of sacrifice.

When Rao Jodha chose to move the Rathore citadel from nearby Mandore in 1459, he selected the hillock of Bhaurcheeria (Mountain of Birds), the dwelling of an ascetic called Mehran Baba or Cheeria Nathji. The moment the king’s men evicted the sage, the constructed walls collapsed. Though a temple was built at his dhuni (place of penance), the sage cursed that the place would be drought-ridden and to make the fort unassailable, a man had to be buried alive in its foundations!

A humble skinner Rajaram Meghwal (or Rajiya Bhambi) volunteered on the condition that his family would be looked after till perpetuity by the king. True to his wish, even today, his descendants live in Raj Bagh and a stone tablet opposite Rao Jodha ji’s Phalsa (the original fort entrance) commemorates the incident. Every year on Jodhpur’s founding day (May 12), the Maharaja worships the skinner’s tools and felicitates Rajiya’s kin.

A guided tour or an audio guide, available in 7 languages, is the best way to explore the marvelous fort, which spills onto many levels. Legend has it that after a foreign dignitary grumbled about the effort required to see the fort, the Maharaja promptly installed an elevator, making Mehrangarh one of the rare forts in India with a lift! Tourists usually buy a 1-way ticket to reach the seventh floor and then amble down its wide cobbled pathways through a series of pols (gateways).

Cheeky signs like ‘Lungs at Work, Please Don’t Smoke’ caution visitors while the gold filigree ceiling at Phool Mahal, the wall-to-wall paintings at Takhat Vilas and view of the famed Blue City behind the fort are sure to leave one breathless. Contrary to popular belief, the houses were painted blue not to ward off mosquitoes but given a fresh coat of paint every time a family member returned from a pilgrimage. Since most inhabitants of the old city were Vaishnavites, the colour represented their blue-skinned god.

With well-displayed exhibits showcased by the Mehrangarh Museum Trust, a library of rare manuscripts, an art conservation centre, museum shop and café, it’s easy to understand why Time Magazine chose Mehrangarh as the Best Fortress in Asia in 2007. No trip would be complete without a royal dinner at Chokelao Bagh, a restored 200-year-old garden at the base of the fort. At night, the white chandni flowers and the sweet-smelling kamini infuse the Mehtab Bagh or Moonlight Garden in the lower terrace with heavenly perfumes while the restaurant on the upper terrace comes alive with folk performances. Nearby, the royal cenotaph at Jaswant Thada, built in memory of Maharaja Jaswant Singh II in 1899, is a beautiful structure in white marble where the kings were laid to rest. The distinct silhouette of Ajit Bhavan can also be seen in the distance.

But there are other ways to experience the fort – take a zipline with Flying Fox or do a heritage Mehrangarh walk with Virasat Journeys, down Jodhpur’s historic galis (streets) dotted with temples and shops. Within the precincts of the walled city in the shadow of the Clock Tower built by Maharaja Sardar Singh are antique stores and legendary shops selling sweets, itar (perfumes), grains and garments. Mishrilal at Ghanta Ghar have been churning out their signature ‘Makhaniya lassi’, special rabdi and doodh-jalebi for over five generations. Under the Sardar Market arch is Vicky’s famous ‘Amalate (omelette) Shop – Recommended by Lonely Planet’! And when you’ve had your fill of Jodhpur, head to Mandore, the old battle-scarred capital of Marwar, which most visitors tend to overlook.

Popularly believed to be the birthplace of Ravana’s wife Mandodari, though no historical evidence supports the theory, Mandore was once the ancient Mandavyapura, an important centre of art and architecture. The old fort that caps the hill was acquired by the Gurjar Pratiharas, captured repeatedly by the sultans of Delhi and eventually received as a gift in marriage by the Rathore ruler Rao Chunda. Fine monuments like the cenotaphs dedicated to the members of the royal family, the Janana Mahal built as a summer palace for the royal ladies during the reign of Maharaja Ajit Singh ji (1707-1724) and the Government Museum are definitely worth a look.

South of Jodhpur, just off the busy NH-65 lie the Bishnoi villages of Khejarli, Guda Bishnoiya and Rohet where centuries-old tradition still survives. After the customary opium ceremony, the local equivalent of smoking a peace pipe, our host, Jodha Ram Bishnoi elaborated on the Bishnois. In late 15th century Guru Jambhoji laid down 29 (bish-noi) conservation principles as per which all life forms were considered sacred. Bishnois revere the blackbuck and protect it with their life, as a leading Bollywood star found out.

At Tal Chhapar, every Bishnoi family donates a kilo of bajra (pearl millet) each month to a community store. After wandering the plains all day, herds of blackbuck assemble around Bishnoi hamlets, to be lovingly fed at dusk. At Khejarli village a sacred grove of khejri trees is another living reminder of the inextricable link between Bishnois and nature. In 1730, a Bishnoi lady called Amrita Devi clung to a khejri tree, which was being cut to provide fuel for the lime kilns to build the Maharaja’s palace. Following her example, her two daughters, husband and 359 other villagers clung to the trees and gave up their lives.

The very land of Rajasthan was soaked in the blood and toil of its proud, fearless people. After hearing fantastic tales and visiting strange temples (like the Deshnok Temple where locals worship rats as their reincarnated ancestors), we thought we had seen it all, until we discovered a shrine dedicated to the Bullet motorcycle!

The roadside temple of Motorcycle Baba or Bullet Banna near Rohet is easy to miss. Dedicated to Om Singh Rathore of Chotilla village, who died here in a accident in 1988, the 350 cc Bullet is enshrined alongside Om Banna’s garlanded photo. Local folklore contends that after the cops impounded the bike, it disappeared from the police station and was found parked at the crash site the next morning. Each time the bike was seized, it magically returned to the accident-prone spot.

Recognizing it as divine will, a temple was built at the site where travelers stop to pray for a safe passage. We joined a small group of worshippers lighting incense. There was no prayer on their lips, nor any incredulity in their eyes; just a brief ritual, before they drove off into the dead of the night…

Where to Stay:

Pal Haveli
Gulab Sagar, Near Clock Tower, Jodhpur 342001
Ph 0291-3293328, 2638344, 93504 08034
E-mail info@palhaveli.com http://www.palhaveli.com
Tariff Rs.3,000-8,000

Where to Eat:

Shri Mishrilal Hotel
Clock Tower, Jodhpur
Ph 0291-2540049

Author: Anurag Mallick & Priya Ganapathy. This article appeared on 8 January, 2012 in Deccan Herald (Sunday edition). 

Trunk Call: 10 Unusual Ganesha shrines of India

In celebration of Ganesh Chaturthi ANURAG MALLICK and PRIYA GANAPATHY criss-cross the country in search of extraordinary shrines dedicated to Ganesha, the Elephant God 

Ganpatipule, Konkan Coast (Maharashtra)
According to legend a local cowherd’s cow had stopped giving milk but would spontaneously offer milk only at a particular spot on the reef, leading to the discovery of the swayambhu (self-manifest) stone image of Lord Ganesha. Since it was found by the pula (sandy dune), the place was called Ganpatipule. Once a year the surf comes up to Lord Ganesha’s shore temple as if to touch the feet of the idol in reverence. The unique west-facing temple is built in such a way that in the months of February and November the sunrays fall directly on Lord Ganesha’s idol. Devotees whisper entreaties into the ears of the large brass mouse before offering their prayers inside. The temple is located at the base of a hill believed to be shaped like Lord Ganesha, so pilgrims do a pradakshina (circumambulation) of the entire hill along a paved path.

Siddhi Vinayak Temple, Mumbai (Maharashtra)
What used to be a small 3.6 m x 3.6 m shrine is today the richest Temple Trust in Mumbai. The filmy rags to riches story of Siddhi Vinayak in Prabhadevi is quite like the meteoric rise of a street kid to superstar. Consecrated in 1801, the original square brick structure with a domed shikhara (spire) was built by contractor Laxman Vithu Patil for Deubai Patil, a rich childless woman who thought it would benefit other barren women. Over the years, news of its siddhi (wish-fulfilling powers) spread like wildfire and patronage from politicians and film stars catapulted it to fame. The temple grosses nearly Rs.50 crore every year. The inner roof of the sanctum is covered in gold while the wooden doors donning a silver carved mantle are carved with intricate images of Ashtavinayak or eight manifestations of Ganesha across Maharashtra – Moreshwar (Morgaon), Siddhivinayak (Siddhatek), Ballaleshwar (Pali), Varadavinayak (Mahad), Chintamani (Theur), Girijatmaj (Lenyadri), Vighnahar (Ozar) and Mahaganapati (Ranjangaon).

Ranthambhore Ganesh ji (Rajasthan)
Atop Ranthambhore’s historic 1000-year-old fort is a unique temple of Trinetra Ganesha, the three-eyed god in a slab of bright orange. Every day, the Lord receives 10kg of mail from across India and the globe. Traditionally people send the first wedding invitation card here for the Lord’s blessings. As per folklore, the first wedding invite sent here was Lord Krishna and Rukmini’s marriage, roughly dating the temple to 6500 years! So what happens to all the wedding cards? The envelopes are recycled for giving prasad and the cards are cleared periodically! The annual Ganesh Mela wreaks havoc on the ecology of the tiger park when over 1 million pilgrims visit the Ganesh Temple over 3-4 days. Located in the heart of the park, it makes a mockery of the recent ruling on making core areas no-tourism zones. According to tiger expert and wildlife photographer Aditya Singh of Ranthambhore Bagh ‘This number far exceeds the total number of tourists that have visited the park since it was declared a national park in 1980.’

Karpaga Vinayakar Temple, Pillaiyarpatti (Tamil Nadu)
One of the most popular Ganesha shrines in Tamil Nadu, this rock cut temple is dedicated to Valampuri Vinayakar, a large Ganesha seated in padmasana (lotus position) with a gold-fronted trunk bent to the right. Carved from the rocks against which the temple is set, it is the idol’s black appearance that gives the shrine its popular name Karpaga Vinayakar. Believed to be 1600 years old, the temple’s northern tower was erected by the Pandya kings while the Nagarathar community, who renovated it in 1284, added the eastern tower and an adjoining mandapam. The ceiling of the hall is painted in vegetable dyes and bears old inscriptions while ornate sculptures adorn the pillars. The place itself is called Pillaiyarpatti after Pillaiyar or Lord Ganesha.

Rockfort Ucchi Pillayar Temple, Tiruchirappalli (Tamil Nadu)
Though Vibhishana and Ravana were on opposite sides of the Ramayana war, their failed quest to take the Lord’s supreme form back to Lanka is almost identical. After killing Ravana, Lord Rama gifted Vibhishana an idol of Lord Ranganatha, cautioning him that it would take root wherever it was placed. Though an ardent devotee of Rama, Vibhishana was Ravana’s brother and an asura (demon), so the gods entreated Lord Vinayaka to stop him. On his return to Lanka Vibhishana passed through Trichy and seeing the beautiful Kaveri River, wished to take a holy dip and perform his daily rituals. Lord Ganesha appeared as a young cowherd and offered to hold the idol while he bathed. The moment Vibhishana stepped into the water Vinayaka put the idol on the sandy banks. A livid Vibhishana chased after him, but the nimble cowherd ran up a hill by the riverside. Vibhishana finally caught up with the boy and hit him on the forehead. When the boy revealed his divine form, Vibhishana apologized and left empty-handed to Lanka. Thus the rock where Lord Ganesh escaped became the Ucchi Pillayar temple or ‘Lord Vinayaga on the hilltop’ and the place where the idol took root became the Sri Ranganatha Swamy temple at Srirangam. Steps tunneled through the rock lead to the Ganesha temple on the hill, accessible by another steep flight of steps carved on the rock face, offering panoramic views of the Kaveri and Kollidam rivers.

Manakula Vinayagar Temple (Pondicherry)
This is the epic tale of a shrine that defied the might of the French in their own backyard. Dedicated to Lord Ganesha venerated as Vellakaran Pillai, the temple was constructed five centuries ago, long before the French arrived at Pondicherry. The name is derived from the old kulam (pond) on the western side of the temple that used to be full of manal (sand) blown in from the shores. On several occasions, French missionaries attempted to raze the shrine, but ardent worshippers saved it from destruction. Each time the idol was hurled into the sea, it would magically return. Today, the temple stands defiantly rooted at the same spot in the heart of the French Quarter. Various manifestations of Lord Ganesha adorn the inside walls. The 18-day Brahmotsavam and Ganesh Chaturthi are grand celebrations. Be sure to give a coin to the temple elephant Lakshmi in exchange for a friendly pat on your head from her trunk as blessing!

Madhur Maha Ganapathi Temple, Kasaragod (Kerala)
Located on the banks of the Madhuvahini River 8km northeast of Kasaragod, the spectacular Madhur temple was built in 10th century by the Mypadi Rajas of Kumbla. Though Lord Shiva is the presiding deity, it is his son who draws the crowds. Lord Ganesha’s idol is not made of stone or soil but some unknown material; hence all abhishekas (oblations) are done for Ishwara. The temple has an imposing structure with its gables, copper plate roofing and wooden statues. During his invasion of Malabar, after conquering Kumbla, Tipu reached this shrine intent on destroying it. Overcome by fatigue, he quenched his thirst from the temple well and underwent a divine change of heart. He left the shrine unharmed, except a mark left by his dagger on the intricate woodwork. The temple well’s water has no frogs or fish, tastes good and is said to possess medicinal and curative properties. Another highlight is the Moodappa Seva, a special festival where Maha Ganapathi’s large figure is covered with moodappam (sweet rice ghee cakes) but no matter how much you stack up, it’s never enough. A very costly affair, the festival was last held in April 1992, and earlier in 1962 and 1802.

Sasive Kalu & Kadale kalu Ganeshas, Hampi (Karnataka)
Hampi, the glorious capital of the Vijayanagar Empire is home to many shrines and unusual sculptures, including two unique Ganesha idols. The 18-ft monolith Kadale Kalu Ganesha is the largest Ganesha statue in Karnataka. It dates back to 1440AD and a 24-pillared temple was built around the idol later. In 1565, invading troops of the Deccan Sultanate broke the stomach and trunk of the idol, suspecting that it contained hidden jewels. As a result, the split stomach bore a resemblance to the two halves of a gram seed, lending the name by which the statue is known today. Nearby is the Sasive Kalu Ganesha that gets its name from the likeness of the rounded toes to mustard seeds. This 9-ft high, richly carved Ganesha was built in 1516. Behind the image is an outline of a woman as if she is strapped to Ganesha’s back, symbolizing Parvati as the eternal protector of her son.

Idagunji, Honnavar taluka (Karnataka)
At the end of Dwapara yuga, Sage Valakhilya and other rishis were performing a yagna at Badrikashram for the removal of doshas (sins or malefic effects) in Kaliyug, but faced many hindrances. Sage Narada then instructed them to go to Kunjavana on the banks of the Sharavathi where the divine trinity had once prayed to vanquish the asuras. Later the trinity and Lord Ganesha visited the site to bless the sages and the elephant-headed god asked all the divinities to leave behind a portion of their goodness for the benefit of mankind, which were deposited in the sacred tanks Chakratirtha and Brahmatirtha. Since the sacred kunj (garden) was located on the left bank of the river (eda means left), the place was called Idagunji. The panchakhadya or special prasad of this temple is quite famous, as are the Ganesha masks made out of vetiver (khus).

Ganesh Tok, Gangtok (Sikkim)
In a land synonymous with Buddhism, a shrine to the elephant God is rare. Located 7km from town on the Gangtok-Nathula Road and perched at 6,500 ft on a hill near the TV tower, Sikkim’s Ganesh Tok temple is fascinating. Like the Hanuman Tok shrine but much smaller, Ganesh Tok offers a scenic view of Raj Bhavan, Gangtok town and Mount Khangchendzonga. Space inside the temple is so cramped that devotees have to creep in on all fours to have darshan of Lord Ganesha. 

Pen Ganesha: From clay to commerce

ANURAG MALLICK and PRIYA GANAPATHY visit the tiny town of Pen in Maharashtra’s Konkan region to unravel the colourful world of Ganpati idol manufacture 

A torrential downpour lashed across the tiny hamlet of Pen. In every lane, the elephant-headed god peeped over blue plastic sheet enclosures. In a dimly lit shack on Kasar Ali, Rajendra Moreshwar Samel gently tapped on a mould and prised it open to reveal a serene Ganesha. The grey shadu (clay) was still damp as he carefully attached the trunk and hands and left it on a shelf to dry. This third generation artisan single-handedly churns out 3,000 idols a year and is one of the thousands of craftsmen who have turned Pen into a world-renowned manufacturing hub for Ganpati idols.

With Ganeshotsav (Ganesh Chaturthi) around the corner, the pace of activity at Pen’s Kala Kendras and karkhanas (makeshift factories) was frenetic. Paint-spattered artists were engrossed with brushes and spray guns, some statuettes awaited the finishing touches for the eyes, endless rows of grey and white idols were left to dry while those arranged on the shelves had been tagged with the buyer’s name. Some bought kachcha (raw) idols to be painted later in desired colours while most carted away readymade statues. Members of Ganpati Mandal Samitis knocked on doors in search of 8 feet high Ganeshas. Retailers from Mumbai, Pune and Kolhapur ticked away at checklists and furiously punched figures on their calculators.

What seemed like an unassuming roadside shop from the outside was a labyrinthine complex of halls and passageways set on multiple levels. Any available space was stacked with Ganeshas of every size, shape and hue. Rattling out names like items off a menu, Deepak Samal of Deepak Kala Kendra explained how the idols had been named. “The nomenclature is for convenience and usually depends on aspects of style like costume, headgear, seating posture or choice of pedestal. There’s Peshwa (reclining on a couch), Kamal (on a lotus), Shankh (on a conch), Undish (on a mouse), Bajirao (with pagdi), Furniture Ganesh (elaborate seat) or Shivaji (seated on a throne like the Raigad statue). Seeing the popularity of the Chimboli wala Ganesha (seated on a crab) among the Hindu Kolis, Pen’s artists developed a new variant – a fisherwoman carrying a basket with Lord Ganesha emerging from the belly of a fish!”

Sunil Hazare of Mangesh Kala Kendra, a 4^th generation artisan lamented, “Popular figures like Siddhivinayak, Lalbagh cha Raja, Chinchpokli cha Raja, Dagduseth Halwayi of Pune (with coiled trunk laden with gold) are all-time favourites. However, artisans have now started adapting Ganpati in the likeness of other gods – Vithoba, Tirupati Balaji, Sheshnag, Shiva Parvati, Bansuri Sri Krishna or Sai Baba. We prefer to stick to traditional themes, but if you walk down the ali (street), you’ll discover atrocious designs and gaudy colours. How can one pray to such idols?”

The young twins Amol and Amit Waskar of Sheetal Kala Kendra at Parit Ali, who opted for Plaster of Paris over clay few years ago, had a different opinion. “Doing the same thing year after year can get monotonous. To showcase our creativity, we try and innovate with more contemporary themes. People too have quirky tastes. The popularity of the 3-D animation film spawned the Bal Ganesh series. Last year, the Auto Ganesha sold like hot cakes; but this year it’s Cycle Ganesha and World Cup Gan…” Before the Waskars could complete their sentence, our eyes traveled to Lord Ganesha poised mid-delivery, sporting an India jersey with a Kookaburra ball in his hand, ready to bowl the perfect googly. His trusted vahana, the mouse had folded its hands in devotion, but clutched a ball instead of a modak (sweet dumpling)!

The idol’s evolution from a minimalist clay figure to ostentatious pop art has been quite a journey. The tradition of this century-old craft dates back to the 1880s when Pen used to be a typical farming village. Bombay’s emergence as an industrial centre drew people from afar for employment. Several Brahmin communities from Konkan left for Bombay on bullock carts and often settled at various places along the way. Being a priestly class, their work centered around festivities and rituals – crafting pagdis (headgear) ­and making decorations, paper idols and stuffed parrots. They bartered these items for rice and shelter. Since Lord Ganesha was Maharashtra’s paramount deity, the Brahmins would often dig up some clay and fashion an idol for worship. Although there was no money in idol-making, it was considered very respectable. The landlords of Pen and other customers offered paan-bida (betel leaf and nut) and dakshina (token fee) in exchange for these statues.

The credit for converting a pastime into commerce goes to Ganesh Bhikaji Devdhar or Bhiku Tikli, who emigrated from Wade Padel near Vijaydurg to Pen around 1885. He went to Bombay to learn the art of mould making and introduced it in Pen, forever changing the manufacturing process. However, it took a historic event to propel this art into a full-fledged cottage industry.

In 1893, in response to the British ban on political gatherings, nationalist leader Bal Gangadhar Tilak transformed Ganesh Chaturthi from a private affair to a sarvajanik utsav (public celebration) as part of his larger campaign to unify India. With its epicenter in Pune, various Ganpati mandals (associations) were formed to promote cultural programs. The 10-day festival became a rallying point for all communities and the festive wave spread to Mumbai and other places. A matrimonial alliance between the Peshwas and the Kolhatkars, a landlord family from Pen came as another shot in the arm. Ganesh Chaturthi, already a grand celebration for the Peshwas of Pune since the 1700’s, became equally popular in the Brahmin cluster of Pen. To cater to this sudden surge, many of Pen’s artisans took on idol making for Ganeshotsav (Aug-Sep) as a full time occupation.

For Kumbhars (potters), who remained partially idle in the rainy season, it was the perfect alternative. With the advent of steel, Kasars (bangle-makers and copper smiths) were elbowed out of manufacturing utensils and took to making Ganesha idols. Slowly members of other communities switched to this booming trade. Many of these streets, named after its original settlers, like Kasar Ali, Kumbhar Ali and Parit Ali became key centres of idol making. They soon faced a small crisis.

The red clay available in the nearby hills was of inferior quality and less pliant. But Pen’s proximity to Bombay worked in its favour. Cargo ships ferrying Mangalore tiles and other cargo to upper India often docked at Bombay. Sacks of chikni mitti (refined white clay) from Gujarat were often loaded to add weight for the ship’s stability at sea. Merchants sold these sacks at throwaway prices at Mumbai, from where it was ferried by boat to Antora Port, 1½ miles from Pen. Thus, Pen’s sculptors got their hands on shadu (clay), the best material to make Ganpati idols. Equidistant from Pune and Bombay, Pen had a ready market.

In the old days, there was no road network and people had to carry the idols on their heads from Pen to Antora or transport them by bullock-cart to Dharamtar, 12 km away. From there, Ganapati idols were loaded onto boats and finally made a dramatic entry into Mumbai by sea! Clay idols being fragile had to be packed carefully with banana leaves in boxes, yet breakage in transit was as high as forty percent. A revolution was in the offing and it was another Devdhar, Bhiku Tikli’s grandson, who triggered it.

Narayan Ganesh Devdhar or Rajabhau introduced Plaster of Paris (PoP) as a substitute to clay for preparing decorative idols that were sturdier, lighter and bigger. Around the same time, the Prabhat Film Company placed an order at Pen for 500 busts for their epic film Sant Dnyaneshwar (1940). The busts were mass-produced using rubber moulds, another pioneering innovation by Rajabhau. Subsequently, the Ganapati idols too were crafted using this technique. With the opening up of the Thane Creek Bridge in the 1970s, improved road networks and easy bank loans, Pen’s Ganpati industry began to flourish.

JJ School of Art alumni, Shrikant Vamanrao Devdhar, a fourth generation artist of the legendary Devdhar family shed more light on the process. “Every Ganesha nearly goes through 25 specialized departments. From kneading the clay, which comes in powder form in gonis (sacks), to sculpting a masterpiece, casting a mould from it, carefully unlocking its pieces, painting the idol, spraying for effects, polishing the idol to the most important aspect – doing the eyes!” Ganesha’s hands and trunk have separate moulds, which are fixed later. The masterpiece is kept aside so that once mould is used up (after 250-300 idols), another one can be made from it. For clay idols, a PoP mould is used and for PoP idols, a rubber mould is used.

“The beauty of clay is that it comes from earth and goes back to earth.” Shrikant sighs, “Initially, all the colors were procured from natural sources – black soot, lime, turmeric and flowers of the Palas tree (Butea frondosea); today we use Camlin fabric paint. Once upon a time, the leaves of Sag (teakwood) and Karate tree (source of Shea butter) were used for polishing idols; now we put glossy primer or rub mica with a cloth for glow. Earlier it was an art; now it’s a commercial business” he rues. “It’s not as if Pen didn’t make other idols. Artists created busts of Jhalaram Baba and Vivekananda, but the demand was low. Plus, they needed to look exactly like them. With Ganpati, one can churn out hundreds and there’s room for abstraction – an elephant head on a human body!”

“Until the 80’s, both the Prabhat and Kalpana Kala Mandirs used to make 8-12,000 Ganesha idols a year, employing 80-100 people, many of whom run their own enterprises today. But there are very few genuine artists left. Most are just printers, replicating others’ work. The tragedy is that artists cannot register their models, because plagiarists tweak the design slightly and you can’t raise an objection!” Although Shrikant has closed down his manufacturing unit to explore other avenues as an artist and sculptor, he remains connected to Pen’s Ganpati legacy. As President of the Lord Ganesha Statue Maker and Businessmen Association for the past decade, he sees many challenges ahead.

“The Government should provide land, infrastructure and basic facilities for unloading shadu and loading idols. We don’t need big machinery or marketing. Instead, we need to provide water and electricity, educate and empower the people and channelize them into a collective force. An attitudinal shift is required. Here, people think that if you don’t have an education or degree or are physically challenged, you can still join the Ganpati industry. The few skilled artisans can earn up to Rs.1,000 a day but an unskilled labourer takes home only Rs.150-200 a day. It’s the agents who take away the cream – buying an idol for Rs.300 at Pen and selling it in cities for Rs.3000! Whatever said, Ganpati manufacture is not like majdoori (menial job), you sit in one place and work. There’s some dignity in it.”

Witnessing the onslaught of mass-production, drop in skilled artisans and gradual decline in art, Shrikant’s cousin Anand Narayan Devdhar, also a JJ alumni, has scaled down his operations to focus on sculpture. “Different communities have different aesthetic sensibilities. Brahmins like ‘pujan ka ganpati’, the orthodox, small-sized idol with traditional, muted colours. But what is classy for me, might be too plain for others. Kolis and business communities like ‘bhadak ganpatis’, with chakmak (glitter). Some believe if Ganpati is laden with gold, more gold will come home”, he chuckles softly.

The manufacture of Ganpati idols is a Rs.10-15 crore industry, employing about 25,000 people in Pen taluka alone. Nearly 500 factories dot Pen, Hamrapur and adjoining areas with all members of the family employed in the trade. Over the years, the market has expanded to neighbouring states like Gujarat, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka and Goa. Joint families that used to have one common Ganpati have now splintered into nuclear units. With a large Marathi diaspora settled overseas, idols from Pen travel to places as far as UK, US, Australia and Mauritius. As long as Ganesha has devotees, Pen will always be in business. The rain has calmed to a gentle drizzle and the sun is out. A massive white Ganapati smiles in benign contentment.

Fact File

Location:
Pen is 80 km from Mumbai

Getting there:
By Road: Accessible from NH-17/Mumbai-Goa Highway (30 km from Panvel) or via the Mumbai-Pune Expressway by the Khopoli-Pen State Highway (25 km from Khopoli).
By Rail: Ratnagiri Passenger (50103) leaves Dadar at 3:35 pm and reaches Pen at 5:55 pm while the Diva-Sawantwadi Passenger (50105) leaves Panvel at 7:05 am and reaches Pen at 7:59 am.

Where to Stay:
Marquis Manthan, Mumbai Goa Highway
www.marquismanthan.com

Authors: Anurag Mallick & Priya Ganapathy. This article appeared as a Ganesh Chaturthi special feature in the August, 2011 issue of Rail Bandhu, the Indian Railways’ in-train magazine. 

We did start the Fire: Sivakasi’s fireworks industry

ANURAG MALLICK & PRIYA GANAPATHY visit Tamil Nadu’s legendary Pyro Town Sivakasi to see how fireworks are made and why a tiny village became the largest firecracker hub in India

The distinct smell of crackers clings to the night air as we drive in. ‘Welcome to Pyro Town’, proclaims a wayside board. We are in gandhaka bhoomi or the sulphurous land of Sivakasi, which accounts for 90% of India’s total fireworks production, 80% of all safety matches and 60% of total offset printing solutions. In a roadside shop, the list of luminaries on the fireworks boxes is mind-boggling. In remote Sivakasi, blissfully unaware of copyright infringements, everyone from Asin, Britney Spears, Marilyn Monroe, Harry Potter, Superman, Spiderman and WWF wrestlers hawk the wares. Baby bump or not, Aishwarya Rai was still the universal favourite.

In the lobby of Bell Hotels, the only decent hotel in town, we bump into Mr. ASP Arumugaselvan of Kaliswari Fireworks, who gives us a brief overview on how this nondescript town became a booming centre for fireworks. Earlier, Calcutta was the main hub as chemicals and metals unloaded at its port from European countries encouraged a small-scale industry of Bengal lights and fireworks for festive and religious occasions. The first tubris (flowerpots) were fashioned out of mud and inter-street tubri competitions are held in Bengal even today! But production of fireworks was restricted by the British due to fear of anarchist activities. In early 20^th century, Mr. Dasgupta started a match factory in Calcutta with small, semi-automatic machines imported from Japan to develop coloured matches, crackers and fountains.

Around the same time, Sivakasi was reeling under drought and famine, forcing two enterprising cousins, A Shanmuga Nadar and P Ayya Nadar, to head for Calcutta in search of better prospects. There, they stumbled upon the Japanese match factory next to their lodge. After learning the craft for eight months, they returned to Sivakasi and established a factory with raw material and machines imported from Germany. When mechanized production proved costly, they adopted Gandhiji’s swadeshi mantra and call for cottage industries. The brothers switched to manual production using cheap local labour and set up individual factories in 1926 – Kaka Match Industries and Anil Match Factory, with crow and squirrel as their symbols.

In those days, plain phosphorus sticks were used to strike a light and Swedish Match had just established WIMCO (Western India Match Company). Through experiments and books on chemistry, the brothers developed safety matches and colour matches, which were being imported from Europe and Asia. In due course, other entrepreneurs applied match-making techniques to produce fireworks, thereby triggering the birth of a second industry. Since labels were sourced from Mumbai and Chennai, KSA Arunagiri Nadar established a litho-printing unit in Sivakasi in the 30s. The introduction of offset was the genesis of a third industry.

Sivakasi had a clear advantage over other places. Its all-year-round dry and sunny weather made it ideal for these industries to flourish. Damp weather and moisture not only affected the crucial drying process of fireworks, but also crinkled the paper, making it difficult for printing. Today Sivakasi has a matches, firework or printing unit in every nook and corner, thus earning the sobriquet Kutty (Little) Japan. Little do people know that Sivakasi also provides customized solutions like practice bombs, smoke screens, powders and fuses to the Indian Army and its Ammunition and Ordnance factories. The local fireworks industry is estimated to be Rs.2,000-3,000 crore. But it was a chain of unconnected events that led to Sivakasi’s rise as India’s fireworks capital.

When a Central Excise Duty was levied on matches in 1934, people diverted their energies towards fireworks. Until the outbreak of World War II in 1939, there were only a few units in Sivakasi, but the obstruction of firework imports during wartime boosted the indigenous industry. In 1940, the Indian Explosives Rule introduced a new system of licensing for the manufacture, possession and sale of fireworks, paving the way for the first organized factory. By 1942, other companies like National, Kaliswari and Standard Fireworks set up shop. With the end of World War II in 1944, the renewed import of raw materials helped expand the market. People who worked under the two Nadar brothers – be it a typist, worker or accountant – eventually set up their own units with their blessings.

Mr. Arumugaselvan elaborates ‘Kaliswari, one of Sivakasi’s oldest companies, was started by A Shanmuga Nadar with the famous Cock brand. The first bomb produced at Sivakasi was the ‘Atom bomb’ and everything evolved slowly through trial and error. Now R&D has come in and major companies have pyrotechnicians or chemical experts and permanent mixers. In smaller factories, an outsourced person visits between 8-10 am to prepare the chemical mix while others do the filling and packaging. A person may join as a clerk, move to a desk job, graduate to a computer and if he has the aptitude, go on to handle sales. Though people have stuck to the industry for long, the loyalty factor has changed. Earlier, if someone had three children, all would join the fireworks industry. Now, two go out for better opportunities, while the one who looks after the parents, joins the industry.’

‘Earlier, usage was centered only around Diwali, but now it has spread to other festivals like Holi, Dussehra and occasions like marriages, birthdays, deaths, new year’s, events, politics and cricket. The overall hike in usage has led to a year-round season catering mainly to the domestic market. With enough local demand, there’s no fear of globalization,’ he quips. ‘Though China and Italy are world leaders in fireworks with a machinery-driven approach, India is labour-intensive. If a worker has small palms and another has bigger palms, the way they roll the explosive will be different. How a pinch of salt affects the flavour of food, the manual nature of the job affects the colour, sound and bursting capacity of the explosive. This manual element has been eliminated in overseas industries. People prefer the precision of machines and have specific demands. Every bomb or cracker promises certain intensity or duration; if an aerial display is supposed to last 10 minutes, people expect 10 minutes.’

‘Consumption patterns are different too. Abroad, people don’t burst crackers individually, but witness community firework displays held over bay areas. It’s a spectator sport. But in India, it is participative. The average guy wants more bang for his buck. Only if there’s a loud noise, there’s mazaa in it. In comparison, a cracker emits less sound than a train or flight. During Diwali, it’s winter in North India. Due to the thick mist, the smoke from fireworks gets trapped, so pollution charges levied against us are exaggerated. However, we’re trying to address both issues of noise and air pollution. Of course, it’s a risky industry. Over the years errors have come down drastically. But a small slip from unlicensed units is enough for the media to raise a hue and cry about the whole industry. If you go by the number of road accidents every day, the PWD minister ought to be arrested daily!’

On the challenges and problems faced by the industry, Mr. Arumugaselvan laments, ‘Sadly we don’t have a hub. Restrictions on transportation and explosive rules on shipping and aircrafts have hampered the industry’s growth overseas. There’s no electricity supply in manufacturing units out of fear of a short circuit. Despite 99% literacy in Viruddhnagar, unlicensed set-ups employ uneducated people and their carelessness leads to mishaps. Licenses for up to 12 sheds are granted from Madras, but for more than 12 sheds, one has to go to the central office at Nagpur. Officers from the Explosives Department and Factory Act people come for regular checks.

Often, suspensions are imposed and due to harassment, we lose many days of production, leading to shortages. There’s also a dearth of skilled and unskilled labour. Since all the units in Sivakasi are essentially offshoots of two or three original companies, people are highly egotistic. There’s no co-operative society, hence no representation at the state or central level. That’s our biggest drawback.’

At Lakshmi Agencies, an exclusive showroom for Vinayaga/Sony Fireworks, T Ganeshan is candid, ‘When we started this shop in 2002, we made only Rs.4 lakh in the first year. The demand was only for sparklers, chakras, anars, but the increase in living standards has led to flashier fireworks. Sky outs (colourful designs and explosions in the sky) are in great demand. Today, this little outlet does Rs.80-90 lakh annually. I’ve seen an abnormal growth in the industry. Now, we receive orders from Chennai, Madurai, Tanjore, Nagercoil and Hosur on the phone! Though Standard, Kalishwari and Ayyan are pioneers in Sivakasi, we’ve tied up with China and learnt new things from the West.’

‘Today, Sony Fireworks has a turnover of Rs.70-80 crore and is Number 1 in Sky Outs. Our Rainbow Smoke and Confetti explosions are used in films and Bollywood shows. Each year, new products and designs are introduced based on latest trends. Our young MDs, Mr. Karvanan and Mr. Ganeshan, with strong chemistry and marketing backgrounds, have brought in fresh thinking and new technologies. After KBC caught on, we introduced ‘Magic Show’, with fake Rs.500 and Rs.1000 notes bursting with each explosion. Now that’s called literally blowing up money’, Ganeshan chuckles.

Firework factories are divided into specialized units that manufacture Paper Caps, Ring Caps, Serpent Eggs, Bombs, Rockets, Sparklers or Fancy Items. The compound wall is usually 100 m away for reasons of safety. Due to lack of space inside town, explosives factories have spread across a 20 km radius around Sivakasi – Tiruthangal, Servaikaranbatti, Kumaralingapuram, Vellur, Kavalur, Ammathur, GN Petti, etc. The only company located inside town is Bharat Fireworks started in 1923. But we are off on a factory visit to Standard Fireworks, India’s largest fireworks company, with 47 factories, a fleet of 200 buses, a massive godown, offset printing units and a Mega Store.

At Unit A in Mela Amathur, Manager OP Mummurthy greets us warmly. ‘This unit started two years before I came from Palayamkottai in 1981. It’s hard to imagine this 60-acre patch shaded by neem trees was once an arid, undulating field covered by veli karvalai (scrub)’, he shakes his head. Has anything changed since then, we ask? ‘Earlier, we made small items like sorsa-vedi, kurvi-vedi, bullet-vedi, giant-vedi, lakshmi-pataki, krishna-pataki, tukda, yali; all improvised with gunpowder, newspaper, cardboard and string. But now it’s only fancy items.’

Today, this single unit employs 340 people, of which 280 are women. Women make roughly Rs.100 a day, while men get Rs.150 because of heavier workload. Chemical mixers, who work lesser hours, also make Rs.150 as it’s a high-risk, specialized job. Four buses ply daily and work starts at 8 am. In a mixing shed behind mounted walls, a stipulated amount of masala is prepared, enough to be used in a day, otherwise the chemical decomposes and becomes unstable. With 55 sheds, each having four workers, this unit churns out 26 varieties including sparklers, flowerpots and fancy items. The unit works at a brisk pace to meet its daily target of 250 assorted boxes. Each firework is unique with its own chemical formula and shell.

As per safety guidelines, not more than 25 kg of explosive masala can be prepared at a time. At a drying platform, masala is dried on 3 mm thick rubber mats till noon everyday; doing it directly on the ground poses a danger of explosion. Only brass implements are used as iron may cause combustion. Each worker handling gunpowder and firework mix wears a rubber apron and headscarf for protection. All must customarily wear cotton. Peppered through the premises are sand buckets, water troughs and first aid boxes. Safety showers are installed in case of fire accidents, besides a siren and a wind balloon to indicate the direction of wind. While fire engines are stationed 5 km away, a water tanker is on standby for dousing larger flames.

At the sparkler section, ladies deftly stack and tighten 10½ inch long copper-coated wires in a 17X18 wooden grid. 600 such frames are churned out each day. A human chain passes the frames to and fro as they are dipped into a grey chemical paste, before being sun-dried for an hour, until the next two coats are applied. Some frames are taken to a man seated with a pile of shiny powder who flings magnesium alloy to create the crackling variety. At 2 pm, the sparklers are picked out of the frames and women swiftly pack them into sets of 10, which are further bundled into sets of five. 40 such bundles are put into cardboard cartons, punch-stapled and loaded onto bullock carts for transportation.

In the flowerpot section, women busy churn out ‘Happiness’, a pink-wrapped cylinder that creates a whistling sound. The chemical mixture is spooned into the outer tube – black gunpowder at the bottom to provide lift and colour pellets on top for show. The inner whistling tube is filled with whistling chemical and a wick, and the tube is packed with sawdust. Both ‘Happiness’ and ‘Splendour’, a violet-coloured tube that produces a crackling sound, are manufactured with Chinese technical collaboration.

In the Tower Pot section, large pyramidal flowerpots are being pierced with a brass needle as another worker fixes the wick with black chemical goo. On an outdoor table, a lady pours fasting solution into a bowl of dry powder and gently stirs it as if preparing batter for a brownie. In another shed, ladies pack Mini Fountains in plastic packets like assorted candies. Elsewhere, the deodorant-sized Jade Flower is being packed into cartons of five and three 18” long cylinders are twirled together to create a Magic Tree. A lady supervisor oversees the operations of five sheds and 15 watchmen guard the facility at night.

At 12:30 pm, the gong is struck, announcing lunch. Women slowly pour out of their sheds and unhurriedly clean their hands with industrial soap and coconut oil. With foreman S Kannan in tow, Mr. Mummurthy cajoles the workers as he leads us to the office for tea and biscuits. ‘You have to be strict, yet keep them in good humour. Not only must we look after employees, we also decide on the mix and what has to be made everyday. The chemicals used are more or less the same – Potassium Chlorate, Sodium Nitrate, Barium Nitrate, Strontium Nitrate, Sulphur, PVC Resin, Charcoal, Metal powder and Aluminum powder. But every company has its trade secrets and only years of experience leads to unique mixes. All our raw material comes from sister concerns like MEPCO (Metal Powder Company) at Tiruthangal.

When asked how it feels to be in this industry, Mr. Mumurthy beams, ‘While all my friends work in Government jobs, I am proud to be in this exciting line. The management looks after me well and there’s career growth.’ What about the risks? ‘Every industry has risks. 20 major mishaps have occurred in Sivakasi in the past 10 years and they happen mostly in unlicensed factories and units that flout safety and child labour norms. But all of Sivakasi gets a bad name. A safety officer is permanently stationed on our premises and there’s ESI (Employee State Insurance), PF and medical cover for everybody, besides a monthly health check-up. Due to stringent guidelines, 45 out of Sivakasi’s 600 units were shut down recently and their licenses revoked.’

And what about the bananas? ‘Bananas?’ His eyes follow our gaze to the big clump in the corner. ‘Oh that!’ he laughs uproariously. ‘We give bananas to our employees at lunch time and after the day’s work as it is believed to cleanse all impurities in the system.’ We return to the comfort of Bell Hotel, opened to cater to buyers from North India who would come thrice a year to Sivakasi and find no good place to stay or eat! We meet the Singh brothers, sons of the legendary A Chelladhurai, who started Standard in 1942 with NRK Rajaratnam. ‘Standard has taken strident steps on the global stage. We did a JV with Phoenix in 2001 to set up three units in China and won top honours at an Intercontinental Competition in 2008. Yet, our real achievements lie elsewhere – we provide employment to over 8000 local women and give opportunities to the disabled. Our father considered opening a women’s college in Sivakasi as his greatest achievement.’

As we drive out of town, we notice the number of educational institutions established by fireworks companies. Sivakasi has moved on and good work is being done, but people don’t look beyond the stereotype of child labour. In a fitting goodbye, fireworks light up the night sky. It’s 7 pm and factories were testing the day’s production for defects. We realize in Sivakasi, it’s Diwali everyday…

Authors: Anurag Mallick & Priya Ganapathy. This article appeared as a Diwali special feature in the November, 2011 issue of Rail Bandhu, the Indian Railways’ in-train magazine.

Coorg: Coffee Blossoms in My Hair

PRIYA GANAPATHY shares her socio-geo-apolitical-eco-cultural Kodava guide, with a whiff of coffee-scented nostalgia

It’s hard to remain unbiased while writing about something that defines your identity (a distinct one at that). Though Coorg forms part of Karnataka, its people have a culture that bears little resemblance to the surrounding areas. Tomes have been written on the origins of Coorgs. We can argue about whether we are natives of the land, children of Goddess Cauvery,descendents of Greeks or Aryans, an Indo-Scythian race, Arab traders who got acculturised or Georgian gypsies who danced right into India! We can draw connections based on sharp features, language, religious practices, costumes or accessories and piece jigsaws till we’re blue in the face. Befuddling as it may seem, there is nothing to confirm where exactly, this warrior community with a legacy of distinguished soldiers, came from.

Being a Coorg is a reality I’m reminded of with every sip of morning coffee. Going by the volume consumed, I should have caffeine in my veins and wear coffee blossoms in my hair! And coffee isn’t the only brew we enjoy. It’s no secret that the majority of Kodavas love to knock-back the ol’ firewater and have a voracious appetite for meat – especially the ones that oink. Be it birth, marriage or death – meat, alcohol and music are a must. Some swear that our wildlife got eliminated thanks to our forefathers’ love for game. So don’t be alarmed when men, women and twenty-somethings quaff together at ceremonial gatherings. In fact, elders mock at the recent trend of youngsters becoming teetotalling grass-eaters! However, there are other things synonymous with Coorgs – good looks, loyalty and an innate pride that forbids a Coorg to curry favour with anyone are characteristics that exude from the entire clan, so excuse us if we preen.

A love for creature comforts is another. No matter how much elbow grease goes into running an estate, visiting a planter’s home gives the impression of a life of luxury in a ruggedly romantic county. The omnipresent wicker-backed planter’s chair in the verandah is testimony to that. Though the style harks back to the British years, the props remind me of an Old Western flick – khaki-hued jungle hats and P-caps on horned hat-racks, knee-length boots stashed in a corner, hunting trophies adorning the walls – heads and skins of big cats killed by great-great grandfathers, beautifully varnished deer antlers, glinting criss-crossing swords, rifles, guns and daggers. Phew. You’d think some cool cowboy gunslinger would slam out that double-door and swing into action!

Despite a flamboyant and broadminded façade, Coorgs are fiercely traditional. Discipline, respect for elders and adherence to customs is a given. Kodavas don’t hesitate to touch the feet of elders anytime, anywhere. They do it with alacrity… thrice. Another habit, supposedly like the Greeks, is to offer food and drink to ancestors before wetting your whistle. We don’t forget to dip a finger into our grog and tap out three drops for them. Also, the ritual of althith porrduva (sitting before leaving the house) is a pause that spells success in any venture. Ok, maybe we are superstitious.

Although most Coorgs migrated to prove their worth in all walks of life, the defense services, agriculture and sports remain pet choices. Hockey is to Coorg what cricket is to India, so the ubiquitous hockey stick exists in every home. Strangely, I’ve never seen an untidy Coorg dwelling. Even the most humble traditional cottage is clean and inviting. Lush lawns with colourful flowerbeds and pots brimming with fuschia, exotic anthuriums, poinsettia or bougainvillae greet you. Architecturally, homes blend Kerala and colonial styles with sloping red-roofed tiles and monkey tops. Often, gleaming thookbolchas (hanging lamps) dangle from wooden ceilings.

Most Kodava names end predictably with ‘aiah’, ‘appa’, ‘anna’, ‘amma’ or ‘avva’. All Coorgs are identified by family names, so the first thing you ask another Coorg after preliminary introductions is “Daada?” or ‘which family?’ This instant password unlocks the matrix… Immediately thereafter, the person computes your identity and you realise how you’re closely related to a virtual stranger!

When Coorg women are on the phone, notice how often they use the word oui. It’s not French for ‘yes’. Here it’s an ever-changing exclamation form, which means different things as conversation progresses. The stress and duration of ouuiii determines whether it’s a question, shock, chuckle or cautionary cry. And another Kodava stereotype: a Coorg guy is usually a handsome hunk who rides a noisy Yezdi or drives a jeep. His fashion statement includes blue jeans, a thick moustache and RayBan sunglasses (he’s been the unofficial brand ambassador for decades).

On a nostalgic note, for urban gypsies like me, holidays in Coorg meant a return to innocence. We hunted for bulbul and weaverbird nests in thickets, and shinned up trees laden with juicy oranges, mangoes, jackfruit, papaya, mulberries and guavas waiting to be plucked. We helped to milk the cows each morning, led cattle to grazing fields, fed the chickens and pranced to nearby streams with baskets and thin towels to catch schools of tiny fish and crabs. We skipped into the woods to pop wild berries and went mushroom picking in meadows carpeted by fungi. We knew our aalandi, koday and nuchchi-kummh (edible mushrooms) from our puchchi-kummh (toxic variety causing hallucinations). Tribal labourers would bring wild honey, venison, vannak yerachi (smoked meat) and bemble (bamboo-shoot) and we’d watch them transform into lipsmacking delicacies.

Our aunts served up dishes we’d only read about in Enid Blyton books: bakes and homemade preserves of raspberries, strawberries and blueberries. The pantry was a virtual lab with bottled jellies of guava and banana, jars of pickled mangoes, bitter lemon, dates, pork and fish. Perhaps, Coorg women believe anything can be pickled or fermented into wine! Check out the wine-list at any ethnic wedding. Grape is passé. For us, it has to be passion fruit, ginger, pineapple, mulberry, rice, jamun, orange, betel-leaf, flower extracts or coffee liqueurs. Meanwhile, our uncles created targets to hone our sharp-shooting skills and drummed out sounds of kodava-aat as we danced under starlight. Those wild days and bonfire nights seemed to go on forever.

Perhaps, things have changed, but traces of a life of Riley and a fancy for the finer things still remain. And every time I step on Coorg soil, rain-drenched and leech-ridden, I know this is the only place where I stop to smell the roses. My home, my land, my secret garden.

Author: Priya Ganapathy. This piece appeared in Impressions, a celebrity column in Bengaluru & Karnataka (2^nd Edition) a guide book by Stark World Publishing, Bangalore

Say Cheese, Ismail Please: Top 10 Photography tips for India

Ten years of being on the road has taught ANURAG MALLICK & PRIYA GANAPATHY some important things about shooting in India. Here’s a list of their Top 10 crazy yet extremely useful photography tips.

1. Use protection
Forget Delhi Belly, Malaria, Dengue and Chikungunya, if there’s anything that needs more protection in India than you, it’s your camera. Ask the millions of people who’ve emigrated from India and they’ll admit 2 things that have changed for them – a) quality of life and b) no dust. There’s a lot of suspended particulate matter in most metros and sudden dust storms are fairly common in North and Central India, especially Ladakh, Rajasthan, Gujarat, Delhi, MP, UP… actually everywhere! Be careful while changing lenses or you can get a lot of dust on your sensor. Keep a brush and blower handy to clean it after a day’s work. Remember what they say about your body being a temple, it applies to your camera too! (Festivals like Holi and Diwali are the equivalent of Hiroshima and Nagasaki for your camera so watch out.)

2. Keep the change… handy!
The sadhu in colourful attire you chanced upon in Rishikesh? The kid dressed up like Hanuman you found in Hampi? The beautiful gypsy woman in Rajasthan wearing a red veil, dancing in the dunes at sunset? It wasn’t serendipity or good fortune that they happened to be there. They were waiting for you, just as a tiger stalks its prey. You can tell them by their over-friendly approach and an attempt to catch your eye. Many such gods and godmen are opportunists in make-up trawling the streets for a quick buck. You got to pay more than a penny for your postcard, so keep enough 10s, 20s and the odd 50 handy. Reaching for your wallet and coming up with a 500 is a bad idea. (Once in Khajuraho, had to borrow a milkman’s cycle to get some change for Baba Gobind Singh who lifted a 50kg stone with his willy!)

3. Trespassers will be prosecuted
After 9/11, 7/11 and other terrorist attacks around the globe, security has become a big issue everywhere. Security guards and policemen are pretty edgy nowadays about major landmarks. Avoid dams, bridges, Government buildings, sensitive installations, even some high-profile temples and mosques or you’ll find a khaki-clad guy waving his stick at you. Stop when you hear a whistle. Often they’ll wait for you to trespass before moving in. Avoid using the words ‘shooting’ ‘recce’ or ‘we’re just having a blast’. Most monuments have ticket counters for photography and video. Entry tickets for foreign nationals are priced higher. (Remember, we’re a third world country, so do your bit for the economy. C’mon, it’s a better deal than paying $250 a day in Bhutan!)

4. Writing on the wall
India is one large outdoor canvas with bizarre road signs, graffiti, ‘miss-spelt‘ menu cards, strange stores selling stranger things, weird public service instructions and mind-boggling English. Hell, even English seems like a foreign language. In fact some road safety signs are so hilarious, you might go off the road, around the bend and die laughing. In Ladakh you’re told ‘Don’t be a Gama in the land of the Lama’, Goa advises ‘Safety on Road Safe Tea at Home’ while shops offer everything from bread-amblet, oil message-fechial to cycles for rant.

5. Sense and Sensitivity
Sensitivity is not just something to do with your camera, it applies to you too. Sure you’re seeing a funeral procession for the first time in your life and it must be unusual, but don’t go clicking away like a manic monkey. Be it the burning ghats of Varanasi or the bathing ghats of Pushkar, people don’t like their private moments to be captured. Show some restraint. Often, old women, religious figures or traditional people might get offended if you click without seeking permission. It helps to establish a rapport with your subject – a smile, nod or namaste (namaskaram if you’re in the South) often does the trick. When in doubt, ask. Showing people their photos on your digicam works as an excellent icebreaker. Tele lenses are a good alternative to shoving the camera in someone’s face.

6. Shooting wildlife
India is not Africa, here the wildlife is like a shy whimsical Indian village belle so you’ve got to be patient. Forget a tripod; monopods and beanbags are probably the most important accessories you’ll need as you’ll be shooting mostly from jeeps or elephant back. Light conditions vary with seasons and temperatures fluctuate from 4 to 45 degrees C. Hence, light is usually soft in winters and harsh in summers. Early mornings and evenings are best time to shoot, when wildlife is most active. The quality of your wildlife experience greatly depends on your team of naturalists, guides and drivers, so don’t keep forgetting their names, be nice and tip them well. It’s better to keep two camera bodies while shooting so you don’t waste time changing from tele-zoom to landscape. And remember, no flashing. The wildlife may find it rather disturbing!

7. If you wanna shoot, shoot, don’t talk
Saw that great photo-op from your car and thought you’ll click it on your way back or perhaps later? Na da. Ain’t happening. What’s gone will be gone unless you do something about it. If you have a gut feel about a shot, stop the vehicle immediately (no, not the train) and turn back if you’ve overshot. Even though it breaks the momentum of the journey and is a pain when you’re on the road, you’ll thank yourself for doing so. Holds true 99 out of 100 times. It helps to keep your eyes open so try not to doze off, yap on the phone or bury your nose in a book from point A to point B.

8. Liquid Damage
When shooting in cold weather or adverse conditions like rain or snow, it’s important not to change your lens outdoors, otherwise moisture or condensation can get inside your camera body. Rains in India can be torrential and unpredictable. In monsoons, make sure to carry an umbrella, plastic sheets and waterproof bags. Take care while crossing rivers or streams on foot. Beaches are another dangerous place and if you aren’t careful the salty surf and sand can ruin your equipment. Try not to doze off on the beach or you may find your camera bag floating in high tide.

9. Stay charged
They say whenever you get a chance to eat or sleep, you must. The same holds true for charging. Electricity in India can be erratic, especially in remote parts, wildlife areas and the rural outback, so charge whenever you can. The standard usage is 240 volts, 50-60 Hertz and circular/round pin plug points. Carry adapters for the chargers besides spare batteries and memory cards. Sourcing batteries may be difficult in remote areas. After a heavy meal, there’s less oxygen flow to the brain, so make sure to collect your charger and battery from hotels and restaurants.

10. Beware, be aware
Check beforehand on the time of sunset and sunrise the next day. Don’t hang around alone at isolated spots after dark. Make sure of the direction of light while shooting. Be aware of local events and festivals to capture a destination at its colourful best but be extra careful with your equipment. Animal fairs are exciting but don’t go walkabout in the dark (we nearly got hoofed by a horse). Never let your camera bag out of sight, especially on trains, buses, public transport and eateries. If you get it back, it’s only your good karma. And watch your step –open manholes, banana peels, a fresh cake of cowdung, oncoming vehicles… it’s a minefield out there! Don’t get so engrossed while shooting that you get run over on the street. And make sure to get yourself in some photos. Getting shot never felt so good!