Life & Style

Wild Tamil Nadu screened at The Hindu Lit for Life


Wildlife photographer and filmmaker Kalyan Varma directed Wild Tamil Nadu

Wildlife photographer and filmmaker Kalyan Varma directed Wild Tamil Nadu
| Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

Wild Tamil Nadu begins with the soothing bass voice of Arvind Swamy, who introduces the film’s concept to the audience. “More than 2000 years ago, scholars wrote poems about a land where the natural world intertwined with the human spirit,” he says in the film, which was screened at The Hindu Lit for Life 2026. These ancient writings, known as Sangam literature, classified land into five realms: kurinji (hills), mullai (forests), marutham (croplands), neithal (coastal areas) and palai (arid land), he adds. “This is the story of these realms,” we hear him explain in this documentary, produced by Sundram Fasteners and directed by wildlife photographer and filmmaker Kalyan Varma.

Over the course of a little under an hour, viewers are introduced to a variety of animals, both great and small, who inhabit this land. Using breathtaking footage of the Great Hornbill whirring through endless skies, scattering seeds far and wide, herds of elephants cavorting through tea estates, an energetic family of dholes, scuttering ants, the mating flight of winged termites, and duelling rock agama lizards, Wild Tamil Nadu offers a peek into an incredibly diverse landscape.

In an earlier interview with The Hindu, filmmaker Kalyan Varma noted that the state has a staggering diversity of landscapes, ranging from mountain peaks as high as 2700 metres to marine ecosystems that support an incredibly rich and productive underwater life.

In that same interview, he also spoke about the film’s origin, his process as a film maker, the creative choices he made and why actor Arvind Swamy was chosen to do the voiceover “Tamil Nadu is proud of its language and heritage, which go back thousands of years. So, we wanted a voice that would do justice to it,” he said.

But Wild Tamil Nadu is far more than stunning shots of wildlife in various landscapes. It also offers insights into the interconnectedness of various ecosystems, discusses human-wildlife coexistence and conflict, and serves as a rallying cry for conservation. More than anything, however, it is “a story of resilience and hope..a delicate balance that has survived since the Sangam era,” as Swamy says in the film. “Now the future of this land rests in our hands.”



Source link

Movement is medicine: Priti Chawla


Are Your Gadgets Bringing You Down?: Priti Chawla discusses 'Back Health in the Workspace' at the The Hindu Showplace on Sunday.

Are Your Gadgets Bringing You Down?: Priti Chawla discusses ‘Back Health in the Workspace’ at the The Hindu Showplace on Sunday.
| Photo Credit: M. Srinath

Technology has become an inseparable part of everyday life, and avoiding it is no longer possible. As dependence on screens increases, it has repercussions for health, on both the body and mind, said fitness coach Priti Chawla at the Lit for Life 2026 on Sunday.

At a session on ‘Are Your Gadgets Bringing You Down?: Back Health in the Workplace’, Ms. Chawla said that sitting in front of a screen for long periods significantly reduces muscle activation, by nearly 90% compared to standing or walking. Prolonged sitting also causes joints to become stiff due to lack of movement, while slower blood circulation can lead to swelling in the ankles. Reduced circulation may affect concentration and energy levels, she said. 

Click here to read the live updates of Day 2 of The Hindu Lit for Life

Ms. Chawla said that when the head is tilted forward while using phones or laptops, extra pressure is placed on the neck muscles and nerves, disrupting the natural cervical curve. The lumbar spine, which carries much of the body’s weight and absorbs impact, becomes vulnerable when people remain seated for long periods without movement.

Demonstrating the right sitting postures, Ms. Chawla explained that it begins with simple adjustments: feet planted flat on the floor, hips and knees at right angles, and proper support for the lower back using a cushion or rolled towel. Screens should be positioned closer to eye level to prevent the neck from bending forward. Maintaining a neutral spine during sleep is also important, with pillows placed under or between the knees for support.

Even people who exercise daily are not immune if they remain seated for long hours. Building regular movement into the workday, Ms. Chawla said, is important to preventing long-term pain and spinal strain.

Closing the session, Ms. Chawla said, “Movement is medicine. Small changes matter, and the body adapts quickly and positively when given the chance. Bring the screen up to eye level, do not bring your head down to the screen.”

The Hindu Lit For Life is presented by The all-new Kia Seltos. In association with: Christ University and NITTE, Associate Partners: Orchids- The International School, Hindustan Group of Institutions, State Bank of India, IndianOil, Indian Overseas Bank, New India Assurance, Akshayakalpa, United India Insurance, ICFAI Group, Chennai Port Authority and Kamarajar Port Limited, Vajiram & Sons, Life Insurance Corporation of India, Mahindra University, Realty Partner: Casagrand, Education Partner: SSVM Institutions, State Partner: Government of Sikkim & Uttarakhand Government

Official Timekeeping Partner: Citizen, Regional Partner: DBS Bank India Ltd, Tourism Partner: Bihar Tourism, Bookstore Partner: Crossword and Water Partner: Repute Radio partner: Big FM



Source link

What is Point Nemo, the most isolated place on Earth?


Point Nemo lies in the South Pacific Ocean, at 48°52.6′ south latitude and 123°23.6′ west longitude to be exact. It is about 2,700 kilometres away from the nearest land in all directions. Also known as ‘pole of inaccessibility’ which is used to describe locations that are harder to reach than any other point on Earth and Point Nemo is the most extreme example of this.

Interestingly, Point Nemo wasn’t discovered by a sailor or an explorer. In 1992, it was identified by Hrvoje Lukatela, a Croatian-Canadian survey engineer—using a computer. Lukatela ran a specialised program to calculate the exact point in the ocean that was farthest from any landmass. The result was a location surrounded by emptiness in every direction.

The name “Nemo” comes from Latin, meaning “no one”, and also references Captain Nemo, the fictional explorer from Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea—a fitting name for a place no one truly reaches.

Why the ocean here Is almost lifeless

Point Nemo lies within the South Pacific Gyre, a massive system of slow-moving, rotating ocean currents formed by the Antarctic Circumpolar Current, the Humboldt Current, and the West Wind Drift. The gyre is enormous—twice the size of North America—and is often described as the most barren part of the world’s oceans.

But why is it so empty?

The region is so far from land that winds carry almost no nutrients or organic matter into the water. At the same time, the circular currents act like a barrier, preventing nutrient-rich deep water from rising to the surface. With no food supply to support plankton, very little marine life can survive here. As a result, Point Nemo sits in what scientists call a biological desert.

The nearest land is still very far away

If you were somehow floating at Point Nemo, the nearest landmasses would still be around 2,700 km away. These include Ducie Island in the Pitcairn Islands, Maher Island near Antarctica, and Motu Nui, a small rocky islet off Easter Island. To find inhabited land, you would need to travel thousands of kilometres west to New Zealand’s Chatham Islands, or east toward Chile.

Closer to space than to people

Here’s a surprising fact: the closest humans to Point Nemo are often astronauts aboard the International Space Station. Orbiting roughly 400 km above Earth, astronauts can be physically closer to this point than any person standing on land.

Earth’s space cemetery

Because of its extreme isolation, Point Nemo serves another unusual purpose. Space agencies use it as a controlled “space cemetery”, officially called an orbital graveyard. Decommissioned spacecraft are guided to crash into this part of the ocean to minimise risk to populated areas.

More than 300 spacecraft have ended their journey here, including the Soviet space station Mir, which was deliberately de-orbited in 2001. NASA and its partners currently plan to de-orbit the International Space Station around 2031, with Point Nemo designated as its final resting place.

Mystery of “The Bloop”

Point Nemo is also linked to one of the ocean’s most famous mysteries. In 1997, underwater microphones called hydrophones detected an extremely loud, ultra-low-frequency sound near this region. The signal, nicknamed “The Bloop,” was so powerful that it was recorded by sensors thousands of kilometres apart.

For years, speculation ran wild. Some even joked it was the call of a giant sea creature—drawing comparisons to H.P. Lovecraft’s fictional monster Cthulhu, which was imagined to dwell near similar coordinates. Scientists later solved the mystery: the sound was caused by a massive icequake, produced when a huge Antarctic iceberg cracked and melted.

Even here, plastic finds a way

Even Point Nemo is not free from plastic pollution. During the 2017–18 Volvo Ocean Race, two yachts—Turn the Tide on Plastic and Team AkzoNobel — collected water samples near Point Nemo using advanced sensors. The samples revealed the presence of microplastics, with scientists finding between 9 and 26 plastic particles per cubic metre of seawater, showing that human pollution has reached even the most isolated place on Earth.

Fun Fact: A Human Finally Reached Point Nemo
For decades, Point Nemo existed only as a set of coordinates on a map. That changed on March 20, 2024, when British explorer and tech entrepreneur Chris Brown (L), along with his son Mika (R), made history. After an arduous 10-day voyage aboard an expedition ship from Chile, they reached the exact “pole of inaccessibility.” To celebrate, they jumped into the freezing, 4-kilometer-deep water, becoming the first recorded people to ever swim at Point Nemo.

Fun Fact: A Human Finally Reached Point Nemo
For decades, Point Nemo existed only as a set of coordinates on a map. That changed on March 20, 2024, when British explorer and tech entrepreneur Chris Brown (L), along with his son Mika (R), made history. After an arduous 10-day voyage aboard an expedition ship from Chile, they reached the exact “pole of inaccessibility.” To celebrate, they jumped into the freezing, 4-kilometer-deep water, becoming the first recorded people to ever swim at Point Nemo.
| Photo Credit:
Photo: Wikimedia Commons

A place almost untouched

No regular ships pass through Point Nemo. No flight paths cross overhead. Life struggles to exist in its waters. Yet this silent spot plays a role in both ocean science and space exploration. Point Nemo remains a reminder that even on an increasingly crowded planet, there are still places where Earth feels completely empty.

Published – January 18, 2026 11:54 am IST



Source link

Amphibian Aesthetics, an art show parallel to the Kochi Muziris Biennale, inspires new ways of seeing


‘The Free Space’, which occupies the central hall at Ishara House (Kashi Hallegua House), is an imposing steel cage with no doors or openings. It is likely to stop you in your tracks, and make you wonder a little about the work and the artist, perhaps. 

Michelangelo Pistoletto, the artist, was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 2025, and this work was realised in 1999 through a collaboration with the inmates of San Vittore prison in Milan, Italy. Over his lifetime in art, the 93-year-old Italian artist has been seeking to break down the walls between art and common things. 

The placement of Pistoletto’s work at Amphibian Aesthetics, an exhibition at Kashi Hallegua House, is significant. The work juxtaposes ideas of containment and freedom while situated in a heritage building, a Jewish synagogue to be precise, which has lived through times of conflict, migration, and coexistence. Built in 1568, by the Paradesi Jewish community of Kochi, the building and the art work interact on multiple levels, egging viewers to try different ways of viewing, different ways of thinking.  

Amphibian Aesthetics is the inaugural show of Ishara House, which made its debut as a centre for contemporary art. Launched by the Ishara Art Foundation (located in Dubai), the Ishara House showcases the works of 12 artists and collectives from South Asia, West Asia and Europe. 

The show Amphibian Aesthetics

The show Amphibian Aesthetics
| Photo Credit:
Anuj Daga

Amphibian Aesthetics runs parallel to the Kochi Muziris Biennale and is held in collaboration with Aazhi Archives, a collective of artists, writers, scholars and thinkers doing collaborative research on Kerala’s maritime history and evolving artistic practices. This is an extension of its multidisciplinary project, Sea A Boiling Vessel, which used the ocean as a metaphor to trace Kerala’s history. 

Riyas Komu, artistic director of Ishara House and co-founder of Aazhi Archives

Riyas Komu, artistic director of Ishara House and co-founder of Aazhi Archives
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Amphibian Aesthetics considers multiple realities — climate and humanitarian crisis, geopolitical shifts, and the fluid nature of human existence. “A world where binaries no longer work. Where the amphibian works better,” says Riyas Komu, artistic director of Ishara House and co-founder of Aazhi Archives. “Art has to provide a space to contemplate and evolve. We are looking at multiple things here, and among them is how Kochi is emerging as an art production site. There is an art ecosystem here now and an important part of the discourse is also about how art came here and started working with the history of the space. What does art give back to the space?” asks Riyas. 

Inside one of the gallery rooms is a giant hull (of a ship), a work that treads the space between art and commerce. Shanvin Sixtous, proprietor of Vinton Engineering, an architectural metalworks firm based in Kochi, presents a mixed-media installation, using steel and multiscreen videos to explore the hull as both material and metaphor. ‘In Between’, analyses the hull that is constantly negotiating between land and water. 

‘In Between’ by Shanvin Sixtous at Ishara House

‘In Between’ by Shanvin Sixtous at Ishara House
| Photo Credit:
Biju Ibrahim

Visual artist and graphic novelist Appuppen’s satirical wit shines through in ‘The World of Amfy BN’, a series of print, online and graffiti interventions.

The unpainted walls of Ishara House and the minimal use of lighting, except for the open corridor that lets lavish sunlight in, add depth and drama to the works.

The doors to a few rooms are shut, intentionally, keeping them as intimate spaces for video and site-specific installations. Shilpa Gupta’s ‘When the Stone Sang to the Glass’, is one such, which invites viewers into two small darkened rooms, where found furniture pieces have been combined with drinking glasses collected from the neighbourhood, to create musical resonances. The installation came together, when Shilpa, on a site visit was reminded of Pakistani poet Faiz Ahmad Faiz’s song of resistance, ‘Hum Dekhenge’, while tapping the surfaces of these objects. 

Ishara House

Ishara House
| Photo Credit:
Anuj Daga

Since its very first edition in 2012, the Kochi Muziris Biennale has aimed to take art to the masses, break down the walls and engage with the local ecosystem. Five editions later, it is fascinating to see how the biennale season weaves itself into the fabric of the city, especially in Fort Kochi and Mattancherry, where residents, shop owners, visitors and tourists turn into artists themselves. Parallel shows and satellite events, pop ups and performances are all part of this vibrant art climate. It is an example of what art can do as a soft power and generate more interesting offshoots, says Riyas. “This place has residue of colonial histories; we are repurposing these ancient warehouses. The site provides to the art…half the work is done by the location,” he adds. Amphibian Aesthetics, in that sense, adds Riyas, “is opening conversations about ecology, migration, culture and infratructure … a very fluid state of being.”

Amphibian Aesthetics is on at Ishara House till March 31.

Aazhi Archives is organizing two more shows at Uru Art Harbour in Mattancherry and Kara in Fort Kochi.

Figure, Field and Fact

Shilpi Rajan

Shilpi Rajan
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Self-taught sculptor and artist Shilpi Rajan’s retrospective, ‘Figure, Field and Fact’, encapsulates over 40 years of his life in art. Sculptures in varying sizes, in clay, cement, wood, bamboo and laterite fill up the gallery spaces at Uru Art Harbour, in Mattancherry. Rajan, who began his journey as a mechanic in Thrissur, was driven by his instinctive flair for art. Not bound by academic constraints, Rajan’s creative oeuvre reflects his distinctive style shaped by life’s experiences. 

At Uru Art Harbour

On till March 31. 

Archeo Logical Camera

A series of photographs and samples from archeological sites from across Kerala opens a window to the prehistoric period. Mohamed A in his Archeological photography explores the cultural dynamics of the past. From the rock engravings at Edakkal and Towari to the microlithic artifacts at Anakkara and the excavations at Muziris-Pattanam, Mohamed history into a compelling visual experience. At Kara, the photographs, in varying shades of ochre and specimen take you on a journey you least expect.

At Kara, Fort Kochi. 

On till January 30.

 

Published – January 17, 2026 05:53 pm IST



Source link

The alter universe of a housewife


Kalpana Karunakaran’s grandmother, Pankajam, was, by her own definition, ‘a woman of no consequence’. Not allowed to complete schooling—she had just six years of formal education before being pulled out—and confined to domestic duties within a marriage marked by little love, she nevertheless cultivated a ‘kingdom of the mind’, an alter universe that she built through extensive reading, friendships that defied boundaries and an ability to see the world through the eyes of others, even as she remained conscious that, consequential or not, she was still a subject of the history that was unfolding around her.

Her life and her story formed the subject of discussion between Ms. Karunakaran, who teaches in the Humanities and Social Sciences Department at IIT Madras, and Sreemathi Ramnath, a polyglot consultant and writer, at The Hindu Lit for Life on Saturday (January 17, 2026). Ms. Karunakaran’s book, A Woman of No Consequence: Memory, Letters and Resistance in Madras, was published in 2025.

How much to reveal was one issue, Ms. Karunakaran says, she grappled with. Pankajam, she says, had written her life story in bits and pieces from 1939 to 1995 in the “school essay notebooks of her children and grandchildren”, but she had also turned to autofiction—fictionalised autobiographies—using three characters, Kamala, Lakshmi and Meena, to portray the unsavoury, unsayable parts of conjugal life. These raw, intense stories were perhaps a way of distancing herself, Ms. Karunakaran reflects, and wonders, “Do I really reveal the skeletons in the family closet?” How much should be revealed? And then, she says, she realised that through the autofiction, Pankajam had herself said everything and then some. “If she dared, how could I not?” Ms. Karunakaran says.

On the subject of marriage and the ways men treated the women in their lives and the many ways of looking at this, including through the lens of gender and community, Ms. Karunkaran says that nobody is a villain in the story. The same men who wanted to crush their wives under their feet, she points out, also wanted their daughters to soar. Pankajam, however, wanted her daughter Mythili Sivaraman— a well-known social activist, trade unionist and Communist leader— to find a man very different from the one she had landed, Ms. Karunakaran says.

Pankajam’s story plays out in the backdrop of India’s freedom struggle, and though she referred to herself as a ‘mere housewife’, her writings, Ms. Karunakaran says, were self-reflexive; she witnessed the anti-colonial freedom movement, she witnessed changes in the city of Madras. Ms. Karunakaran says she herself was conscious to pull all of these elements into her story and this is seen in her writing of the book: the idealism and optimism of the Nehru (India’s first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru) years, for instance, seems to evaporate in the 1960s, amid many movements that defined the country: workers’, peasants’ and women’s. Pankajam’s household was not untouched by these events, as witnessed by Mythili’s ‘explosion’.

Ms. Karunakaran stressed that she could not claim that this was the entire truth about her grandmother — she’d relied on different sources alongside Pankajam’s writing, including her memories as well as letters Pankajam had written to Mythili — she says she had attempted to provide an interpretation but gave an open invitation to readers to agree or disagree. 

There are many such stories out there to be written, she says — stories of ‘housewives only’ who were much more. “That resurrection, recovery of their voices and agency is a project that is still waiting to happen in many cases,” she says, adding that if readers felt inspired to write about one of their female ancestors after reading her book, it would be well worth it.  

The Hindu Lit For Life is presented by The all-new Kia Seltos. In association with: Christ University and NITTE, Associate Partners: Orchids- The International School, Hindustan Group of Institutions, State Bank of India, IndianOil, Indian Overseas Bank, New India Assurance, Akshayakalpa, United India Insurance, ICFAI Group, Chennai Port Authority and Kamarajar Port Limited, Vajiram & Sons, Life Insurance Corporation of India, Mahindra University, Realty Partner: Casagrand, Education Partner: SSVM Institutions, State Partner: Government of Sikkim & Uttarakhand Government

Official Timekeeping Partner: Citizen, Regional Partner: DBS Bank India Ltd, Tourism Partner: Bihar Tourism, Bookstore Partner: Crossword and Water Partner: Repute Radio partner: Big FM

Published – January 17, 2026 05:18 pm IST



Source link

Delhi’s iconic Bahrisons Booksellers arrives in Hyderabad


Bahrisons Booksellers, the now-iconic bookstore that first opened in New Delhi’s Khan Market in 1953, has marked its entry into the south with its first store in Hyderabad. Aashna Malhotra, a third generation member of the founding family, takes in the sight of nearly five lakh books at the store in Jubilee Hills that opened on January 14, and says, “More books will be arriving soon.”

An extensive curation of popular titles across categories — crime thrillers, literary fiction, non-fiction and poetry greets visitors. Aashna explains that these titles have been curated with an understanding of customers’ preferences in their stores in other cities. The curation is likely to change as the founders and the staff gauge the reading preferences of Hyderabad.

The history of this bookstore has its roots in India’s Partition in 1947. Balraj Bahri Malhotra, a 19-year-old, fled Malakwal with his family and found refuge in a camp in New Delhi. A few years later, in 1953, he founded Bahrisons Booksellers. Chronicle of a Bookstore, written by his son Anuj Bahri and granddaughter Aanchal Malhotra, offers curious readers a brief history of the store and how the family built the legacy one book at a time.

A glimpse of the Hyderabad store of Bahrisons Booksellers

A glimpse of the Hyderabad store of Bahrisons Booksellers
| Photo Credit:
Sangeetha Devi

Aashna, Anuj Bahri’s daughter and Aanchal’s sister, recalls, “My grandfather was at the bookstore until his final days. Since the initial years, he followed the practice of noting down titles requested by customers in a book. During the lunch break, he would venture out to buy these books for customers. In all our stores, we maintain a book to keep track of customer requests. A keen engagement with customers helps us retain the ethos of a family-run independent bookstore even as the business grows.”

Bahrisons has stores in New Delhi, Noida, Gurgaon, Kolkata, Dehradun, and Indore and is eyeing expansion in the near future. Shelfeebooks, their partner brand of bookstores, caters to school and college-going readers.

Over the years, independent bookstores such as AA Husain & Co, Gangarams and more recently Walden closed down in Hyderabad. Post pandemic, new bookstores such as Luna Books and Off The Shelf attract readers alongside seasoned players such as Akshara Books and M.R. Book Centre, among others.

Aashna is pleased with the warm reception to the store by eager customers who have been visiting the store. At Bahrisons, she says the intent is to neither remain too old school nor be an experiential luxury bookstore: “The design of our store is non-flashy. My father, with the help of an architect, planned the layouts for all our stores such that the books are in focus.” Arched wooden shelves are designed such that despite the large collection of books, the store does not appear cluttered.

A room stocks classics for those who seek collector’s editions, another is dedicated to coffee table books, and a large room stocks books on spirituality, philosophy, business, economics and a range of titles for children and young adults. The store has a limited selection of Hindi and Telugu titles to begin with, and hopes to expand this section soon.

Of late, despite the increased conversation about diminishing attention spans and addiction to digital screens, literary festivals and the annual Hyderabad book fair have consistently drawn enviable footfalls. For a bookstore, Aashna says it’s pivotal to keep the curation dynamic to offer something new for frequent visitors. “Around 10 to 15 years ago, we wondered if reading habits were going to go completely digital. However, we noticed how different formats co-exist. When people like something they have read on an e-reader or listened to as an audio book, they want to own a physical copy.”

She adds that the curation changes according to the customer profile in each of their stores. Their oldest store in Khan Market leans towards history, politics and international relations given its proximity to several foreign embassies. The Gurgaon store stocks Indian and international fiction and classics, aligning with readers’ preferences. “This is possible because members of our staff interact with customers and not mere managers,” says Aashna. She mentions how her parents are at the Khan Market store on a daily basis and glad to interact with customers.

This hands-on approach and value additions in the form of hosting conversations with authors at the stores and stocking copies signed by the authors, she says, gives bookstores an edge over online sellers. Bahrisons Hyderabad shares its space with Blue Tokai Coffee Roasters cafe at the Bungalow, making it feasible to host author meets in the near future. 

Bahrisons also hosts podcasts with authors in video and audio format, available on YouTube and on popular audio podcast platforms.

(Bahrisons Booksellers is at the Bungalow, Plot no. 521, Road no.27, Aditya Enclave, Venkatagiri, Jubilee Hills, Hyderabad)

Published – January 17, 2026 03:00 pm IST



Source link

New year resolution for 2026: save India’s bees


Those small, misshapen apples you hate seeing at the supermarket? Turns out, you can blame bees — or the lack of the tiny, buzzy creatures — for them. New research from the U.S. and Europe has found that the number and variety of bees affect the quality, size, and flavour of apples.

Of course, apple farmers have suspected as much for years. In Himachal Pradesh, Davinder Thakur, 34, an organic apple farmer from Kullu Valley, remembers his grandfather talking about a time when the region only had the local bee species (Apis cerana or Asian honey bee). Their hives were kept in the hollowed-out trunks of old trees and custom-built areas within the walls of houses; the bees were loved and treated like a part of the family. And the apple crop was bountiful every year.

Davinder Thakur’s grandfather taught him the local ways of rearing bees

Davinder Thakur’s grandfather taught him the local ways of rearing bees
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Then, a large-scale viral colony collapse in the 1960s prompted the European bee (Apis mellifera or western honey bee) to be introduced to India. This meant the local bees had a tough time re-establishing themselves. Besides competition from the western import, deforestation, an increased use of pesticides, and climate change impacted the bee population. So much so that many farmers now have to rent bee boxes to pollinate their orchards and farms. (The Apis mellifera isn’t always easy to maintain, as it succumbs easily to local predators and parasites, and also needs a lot of flora to feed from — something the region’s seasonal availability cannot provide.)

Thakur was eight when his grandfather taught him the local ways of rearing bees. Today, he has more than 100 colonies of the Asian honey bee in boxes. And he is trying to improve his region’s lack. “I have been training Himachali farmers for the past 10 years on how to rear the local bee because of its resilience and resistance to climate change [and parasites], which is a major problem in the mountains,” he says.

Bee boxes at Davinder Thakur’s orchard

Bee boxes at Davinder Thakur’s orchard
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

His organisation, Mountain Honey Bee, offers 25-day workshops that are free of charge (the next is in April). “Having trained almost 200 farmers, it is obvious how badly the area is in need of pollinator species,” he states, adding that farmers have noticed how, within just a few years of improving the local bee population, apple produce always doubles.

The unlikely bee champion

Bees are critical wildlife. Both honey bees and wild bees (think bumble bees, mason bees) are key pollinators. And when over three-quarters of all crop plants in India rely on insects and animals for pollination, it should worry us that bee conservation isn’t making the headlines as much as tigers and rhinos.

Honey bee on the way side in Bhubaneswar.

Honey bee on the way side in Bhubaneswar.
| Photo Credit:
Biswaranjan Rout

It’s still not too late. As we refine our new year resolutions, we can also take the time to think about biodiversity. Unlike the passive role many of us take in helping 300-kg tigers and 2,000-kg rhinos — signing online petitions, for one — you can save these tiny 0.1 gram ‘buzzers’ from wherever you are. You just need a box and some know-how. Or a few native flowering plants on your balcony.

Speaking to Bengaluru-based Apoorva B.V., 40, the proclaimed ‘Bee Man of India’, you get the feeling one might even be able to build relationships with them. “Bees are special creatures. They have a very developed sense of smell as well as memory, and can recognise human faces,” he says. There is a famous story of the Kondha tribe from Odisha using tamed bees to fight against the British in 1842.

Apoorva B.V. started with two beehives in his bedroom

Apoorva B.V. started with two beehives in his bedroom
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Apoorva gave up engineering 18 years ago to turn beekeeper. He started with two beehives in his bedroom, which he kept beside his open window, and now keeps 600 colonies and runs a multi-crore honey business — besides training aspiring urban beekeepers and tribal communities on ethical beekeeping, and saving hundreds of colonies a day, all for free. “I get around 200 phone calls a day from people wanting a beehive removed. I spend up to 8 minutes per call explaining to them how we can live peacefully with bees,” he says, explaining that in countries such as Australia, you can be jailed for killing a bee colony. “Comparatively, up to 500 colonies are exterminated in urban Bengaluru every day. It is high time bees, and all insect pollinators, are put either under the Environmental Protection Act or the Wildlife Act and be protected.”

A local farmer shows a bee hive frame in his honey farm in central Kashmir.

A local farmer shows a bee hive frame in his honey farm in central Kashmir.
| Photo Credit:
Imran Nissar

His workshops are always full, and the next one is scheduled for February 8, at his farm on Magudi Road in Bettahalli. “The workshops mostly have 30-somethings, and parents who want to introduce their children to nature. Many schools, especially alternative ones, are participating too, like The Valley School and Vidyakshetra,” he says. “Post the COVID-19 pandemic, there’s been a spike with people looking at it as a stressbuster. Beekeeping needs mindfulness; you have to be calm when interacting with bees. They also get a dopamine hit, watching combs being built, and when they harvest honey. I’m seeing people setting up bee boxes on their balconies, and asking apartment complex societies to do it in their common areas.”

“Bees scare people, just like snakes [or street dogs]. Until we educate them, or people like me sensitise them, they will not be able to overcome it. Children are the best to teach this kind of empathy to. They do not come with any prior ‘fear programming’.”Apoorva B.V.Bengaluru’s Bee Man

Apoorva B.V. introducing bees to children at one of his workshops

Apoorva B.V. introducing bees to children at one of his workshops
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Bee trails and more

Another bee champion is Under The Mango Tree (UTMT). Founded in 2009, the organisation helps marginal farmers increase yield through sustainable practices such as beekeeping. At a time when States such as Karnataka have farmers hand-pollinating tomato and chilli plants, hiring local labour to do a job that a few bees can do in just one morning, such initiatives are key.

“Over the last decade, UTMT Society has collected field-level data on how putting bees on farms can increase yields of vegetables such as gourds and tomatoes, most cash crops like cashew and mango, besides oilseeds, by anywhere from 30% to 60%,” says Sujana Krishnamoorthy, executive director of UTMT. “There is anecdotal evidence in [States such as] Madhya Pradesh on increased yields of mahua and chironji seeds from forests due to increased pollinator populations.”

Sujana Krishnamoorthy of UTMT

Sujana Krishnamoorthy of UTMT
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Krishnamoorthy has also discovered through her own research (still a work in progress, which will be published soon) that India’s native bees show high floral constancy — consistently foraging from the same flower species — which was earlier seen as a trait only present in the western honey bee. “This finding means that our native bees are better adapted to the needs of our farmers than non-natives [which are being supplied by the government],” she states.

Education can be pivotal. Despite India being home to four native species of honey bees — Apis cerana indicaApis dorsataApis florea and Trigona — public understanding of their importance is limited. Krishnamoorthy is a supporter of beekeeping being taught in schools, especially rural schools where there is space and an inclination to take the training home. “It is an opportunity for children to learn where their food comes from, and get involved in [discussions on] ecology and biodiversity,” she says. “An example I know of an institution doing this is Bhopal’s Barkatullah University, with its bee trail.” Launched last year, on March 3, World Wildlife Day, it features stingless bee (Tetragonula iridipennis) colonies and educational displays. “Initiatives like this can help to create awareness about bees and get the public sensitive to them in their environment, instead of killing them with pesticides,” she says.

Kerala and Karnataka’s stingless campaign

According to data from UTMT, Ahmedabad has the highest number of urban beekeepers, primarily because most homes there have gardens. There has also been a large spike in the number of beekeeping workshops in New Delhi with the advent of Sunder Nursery.

A beekeeper in Cumbum, in Theni district.

A beekeeper in Cumbum, in Theni district.
| Photo Credit:
Karthikeyan G.

Many State governments, too, are doing their bit to promote apiculture. In Kerala, attempts are being made with stingless bees. These highly social insects thrive in the State’s Western Ghat biodiversity, rubber plantations (a constant source of food) and humid climate. “They are one of the most diverse groups, quiet, with small nests, and often go unnoticed,” says Vinita Gowda from the Indian Institutes of Science Education and Research (IISER), who researches indigenous bee species. “Planting pollen and nectar-rich flowers around you is a good start to support stingless and solitary bees, as is building bee hotels [structures that mimic natural cavities and hollows in wood]. Nesting sites of most bees are under threat, and the exercise of building a bee hotel meets multiple purposes — it spreads awareness in the community while supporting biodiversity.”

‘Planting pollen and nectar-rich flowers is a good start to support stingless and solitary bees’ says ,Vinita Gowda

‘Planting pollen and nectar-rich flowers is a good start to support stingless and solitary bees’ says ,Vinita Gowda
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

In Karnataka, too, meliponiculture (stingless bee keeping) is picking up. In Dakshina Kannada, the Gramajanya Farmers’ Producer Company (FPC) has launched a ‘honey at every home’ initiative to promote it in urban areas — selling bee boxes with colonies, and also helping maintain them if bee enthusiasts need help. Mangaluru is the main focus, among other urban areas.

“We must see native bees as pets, not pests. Even in dense cities, people living in houses with balconies can keep bee boxes [stingless bees are ideal, after some training]. The bees will collect nectar from trees within a two-to-three-kilometre radius and return to your house. You’ll have a hobby, and they’ll help in pollination”Amit GodseBee Man of Pune

Amit Godse during a beehive relocation

Amit Godse during a beehive relocation
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Government needs to buck up

With climate change becoming more pronounced, “being a farmer today is one of the most difficult livelihoods in our country — and yet, the most necessary”, says Peter Fernandes, a Goa-based beekeeper and pioneer of permaculture. Bees can’t be separated from this discussion. “We must make it clear to our leaders that we care about the environment and, more importantly, our food. Farmer groups and citizen movements, along with private research organisations like ATREE [Ashoka Trust for Research in Ecology and the Environment], need to come together to make their voices heard.”

Peter Fernandes with his bee hives in Goa

Peter Fernandes with his bee hives in Goa
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Government attempts, at the moment, are lacking. Yes, the Khadi and Village Industries Commission (KVIC) distributes a large number of bee boxes across India, facilitates honey production, and helps rural households benefit economically.

But, as Krishnamoorthy shared with the Magazine some time ago, “Which farmer can spend ₹3 lakh to buy 50 boxes [a few years ago, a bee box cost ₹3,500 and the Mellifera cost another ₹3,000; prices have changed since]? Instead, give a small farmer ₹2,000 of support for boxes [UTMT’s cost ₹1,000] and training to transfer local bees from the wild and rear them, and you give them a low-cost way of adding to their yields through pollination and to produce honey.”

Apoorva tells me a story about the government sending the Apis mellifera to tribal regions in Chhattisgarh, where the people couldn’t take care of the bees because they are migratory. Medha Monteiro, a beekeeper of almost a decade and president of the Bardez Beekeepers Society (BBS) in Goa, says, “There wouldn’t be a need for our society if the KVIC or the National Bee Board did a competent job of teaching and equipping citizens with proper equipment.” Before joining BBS, she says farmers and urban beekeepers alike have reported issues with sub-standard bee boxes (made with poor-quality wood, and gaps between boards), missing queen bees, or insufficient combs.

Medha Monteiro, a beekeeper of almost a decade

Medha Monteiro, a beekeeper of almost a decade
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Genetically modified insects?

Though bees contribute to approximately 20% of total crop yield (according to a 2023 paper), we don’t have numbers for bee population loss. Gowda from IISER says, “There is unfortunately no long-term data in India on any insect, let alone bees. This is not a fault of funding, but a lack of interest and understanding of the importance of these creatures within the scientific community. However, we know from studies outside of India that chemicals have affected bees’ navigation, nesting and survival. It is the same as habitat loss.”

A new study by researchers at the University of Sussex and Rothamsted Research in the U.K. found that sites sprayed with NPKS (Nitrogen, Phosphorus, Potash, Sulphur)-based fertilisers halve bee populations. Strikingly, the research also found 95% greater pollinator abundance and 84% greater pollinator species richness in untreated plots.

So, it’s ironic that last October, the Union Cabinet, headed by Prime Minister Narendra Modi, approved ₹37,952.29 crore for farmer subsidies on Di Ammonium Phosphate (DAP) and NPKS-based fertilisers. Pushing the irony further is the Government of India’s initiative for beekeeping in 2025-2026 — a total outlay of ₹500 crore. This is a systemic problem and shows the inherent contradiction within the broader agricultural policy of the country.

Keenan D’Costa, has been keeping bees as a hobby at his home in Goa

Keenan D’Costa, has been keeping bees as a hobby at his home in Goa
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Meanwhile, another initiative could also cause equal damage. In the 2025-26 budget, the Department of Biotechnology (DBT) received an overall allocation of ₹3,446 crore (a 50% increase from the previous year) to support biotechnology startups, including genetically modified insects. Yes, you read that right.

India has guidelines for these insects, but the potential for unforeseen ecological consequences from their release is a major concern. “Even the effect of non-native insects is unpredictable and has been known to go rogue [like the cane toads introduced in Australia that killed native predators]. We have no idea how a genetically modified one will affect its environment,” says Gowda. They could lead to irreversible ecological disruptions by altering populations of pollinators, pests, and decomposers, which can have cascading effects on entire food webs.

What you can do

Support eco-friendly farming: Whenever possible, choose food grown with fewer chemicals and less plastic packaging. Organic or agroecological systems tend to be better for pollinators, and the planet.

Plant with purpose: Whether it is a balcony box, school garden, rooftop, or community field, every flowering space counts. Try to grow a mix of native plants that bloom throughout the year, such as hibiscus, tulsi, marigold, to support a variety of pollinators. Those who have lawns, keep some pollinator-friendly spaces without mowing everything.

Go pesticide-free: Avoid using pesticides, herbicides, or fungicides where possible.

Reduce night lighting: Install outdoor lights on timers or motion sensors. Nights are crucial for many pollinators, particularly moths, which are also vital to pollination.

Speak up in your community: Encourage local leaders to support pollinator-friendly practices, such as planting along roadsides, creating urban gardens, and regulating plastic waste.

Support pollinator-friendly habitats: Energy and climate solutions can also benefit pollinators, if designed wisely. Solar farms planted with wildflowers such as goat weed (Ageratum) and tridax daisies (Tridax procumbens), or reforestation that includes flowering species, offer multiple wins.

Protect wild pollinators: Managed honey bees are just one part of the story. Support efforts that conserve native wild bee species.

Share your knowledge: Host a workshop, write a blog, record a video, or simply talk about it to build pollinator protection culture.

A shift in perspective

One of the fundamental problems today is that India’s beekeeping policy is treated as a standalone livelihood sector, divorced from agricultural and environmental policy. Until the country integrates pollinator health into its core agricultural framework — by drastically reducing harmful pesticides, promoting ecological farming, and conserving natural habitats — other efforts will remain a palliative measure.

The most powerful action now is a shift in perspective, from seeing bees as just honey producers to recognising them as essential, vulnerable wildlife that sustain our food systems. By creating pockets of safety, food, and habitat, citizens can build a resilient network of sanctuaries that no single policy can achieve alone.

The writer is a permaculture farmer who believes eating right can save the planet.



Source link

Column by Devdutt Pattanaik | Is the hamsa an Indian goose or a European swan?


Every winter, a small miracle takes place across the Indian sky. High above the snow peaks of the Himalayas, at altitudes where even planes struggle to breathe, flocks of bar-headed geese glide southward from the frozen lakes of Central Asia. They descend into the wetlands of India (the Ganga plains) honking softly as they rest on the waters that have awaited them since Vedic times. This is the hamsa of Indian imagination, the bird of Saraswati, the emblem of wisdom, purity, and transcendence.

The bar-headed goose (hansa) is a key cultural symbol of India, along with other waterfowl such as the sarus crane (krauncha), ruddy shelduck (chakravaka) and crane (baga, bagula). This list excludes the swan (raj-hansa), which is European, not Indian. But somewhere in the last two centuries, the Indian goose was eclipsed.

In colonial translations, it was transformed into a European swan, a bird that never flew over the Himalayas, never nested in Ladakh, never knew our monsoons. The goose carved in stone on temple walls was ignored and everyone paid attention to swans appearing next to Shakuntala, transforming her into the Greek Leda.

Europeanising the sun bird

The hansa is the Anser indicus. It was a hardy, intelligent migratory bird that embodied the rhythm of India’s seasons. It bred in Central Asia in the summer and through the monsoon, returning to India in winter, in time to eat the lotus fruit, following the same paths that traders, monks and, perhaps, even the Indo-Aryans once followed thousands of years ago. The Vedas speak of the hamsa as the “sun-bird”, the messenger of dawn, the soul that moves between the mortal and immortal realms. In the Upanishads, it becomes a metaphor for the liberated soul — the paramahamsa, one who rises above worldly waters.

In art and sculpture, friezes of 12th-century temples at Belur, Khajuraho, and Konark show the bird carved beside Saraswati, with a blunt beak, rounded body, and webbed feet. This was India’s own sacred bird — born of her rivers, not borrowed from Europe’s ponds.

When Europeans began translating Sanskrit in the 18th and 19th centuries, they encountered the word hansa. To them, it resembled the swan of their myths — the pure white bird form taken by Zeus to seduce Leda, or the swans of German folktales. So Saraswati’s companion was Europeanised and deemed more elegant than the ugly goose. The swan was like a ballet dancer; the goose was the squat Indian nautch girl.

A painting showing Brahma, the four-headed deity, with Saraswati in his lap, riding on his vahana, the hamsa.

A painting showing Brahma, the four-headed deity, with Saraswati in his lap, riding on his vahana, the hamsa.
| Photo Credit:
WikiCommons

The change seemed innocent, even poetic. But this mistranslation was not without consequence. Once the swan entered our art books and textbooks, the Indian goose vanished. Painters in British India, raised on European imagery, began to draw long-necked swans on temple posters. School books described Saraswati riding a swan. Even modern temples began installing swan imagery on signboards and calendars.

Over time, the bar-headed goose — once the bird of the Himalayas — was exiled from its own mythology. This was colonisation of imagination. We rejected the bird that actually flew over our skies in favour of one imported through colonial eyes. The swan became Sanskritised, while the goose was forgotten.

Erasing geography from faith

In the Sanskrit poem Hansa-sandesha (The Goose Messenger), Rama sends a hamsa to carry his message to Sita across the sky. She is equated with the lotus flower blooming through the monsoon waiting for the goose to arrive. By the time it does, the rains are over. It is autumn (śarad). The lotus has shed its petals and the fruit is ready for consumption. Saraswati is worshipped, and the season of knowledge begins. In poems such as these the rhythm of nature and the rhythm of myth were once one.

Modern education separates zoology from literature. Children are not told that Saraswati’s goose is among the most extraordinary creatures on earth. It flies over the Himalayas at heights above 25,000ft, where oxygen is one-third of normal levels. Scientists still marvel at its lungs and blood chemistry. It flies at night, in formation, gliding on thin air, carrying no luggage except memory. Its annual journey, from the salt lakes of Tibet to the flooded plains of India, has continued unbroken for millennia. To call the hansa a swan is to erase geography from faith.

The orthodox Hindu who insists on painting Saraswati on a swan repeats a colonial error, mistaking imported iconography for authenticity. But the temples tell a different story. On their 800-year-old walls, the hamsa looks like what it truly is — a goose, not a swan.

Devdutt Pattanaik is the author of 50 books on mythology, art and culture.

Published – January 17, 2026 02:08 pm IST



Source link

Through an Arab lens | Zayed National Museum in Abu Dhabi tells the unfolding story of the UAE


Museums are not merely places; they are stories woven across time and land. The newly inaugurated Zayed National Museum in Abu Dhabi proves this as its five tapering falcon wings rise dramatically above the skyline. Anchored inside is a 60-foot boat with a prow rising to 11 feet — the very vessel I once encountered in a school textbook on the Indus Valley Civilisation. Reconstructed with help from university scholars, researchers and boatmen from Kerala, using wood, coir and bitumen, the Magan boat is a Bronze Age marvel. It links this desert nation to Meluhha, the maritime trading port of the Indus Valley Civilisation.

Boats like these once carried copper across the Arabian Sea to ports on India’s western coast 3,000-4,000 years ago. Without a nail, bolt or screw, revived from engraved drawings and materials described in cuneiform writing on ancient tablets, the boat did a two-day sea trial in the Arabian Gulf, sailing 50 nautical miles, before being anchored at the museum.

The Magan boat

The Magan boat

More than a land of petroleum

The museum positions itself as a place where the world and civilisation are interpreted through an Arab lens. “The history here is from the perspective of the United Arab Emirates. It is not the other way around. It is not from a British perspective,” says Mohamed Khalifa Al Mubarak, Chairman of the Department of Culture and Tourism, Abu Dhabi.

The open air gallery leading to the museum

The open air gallery leading to the museum

With a massive 30-metre faceted mound, tipping the hat to the desert topography, the museum has been designed by British architect Norman Foster. The wingtips function as thermal chimneys, creating cooling air currents that pull out warm air from the building. The architects call them ‘Canadian vents’; Khalifa Al Mubarak calls them ‘barjeel’, an ancient wind-tower design that has long kept homes and public spaces cool across the region.

“The Zayed National Museum tells the unfolding story of the land and its people. It demonstrates the unifying power of our history and culture, providing a space where citizens, residents and visitors can see themselves reflected in the story of our people and our land. Bridging past, present and future, it will help shape how we understand the UAE’s evolving cultural narrative.”Mohamed Khalifa Al MubarakChairman of the Department of Culture and Tourism, Abu Dhabi

Walking through the space, I realise that museums are not just about contested objects; they are a culture speaking to itself, a collective memory that interprets the world and repositions our place within it. Here, an old notion dissolves — the idea of the UAE as merely a land of petroleum, sand dunes, date palms, sea and shopping malls, stripped of history. Instead, it evokes awe as it lays out a tapestry linking oasis, horses, coffee pots, dates, water infrastructure, and falcons, tracing the land’s story from the palaeolithical, pre-Islamic era to the modern one. “One of the surprises for me was finding a Bronze Era sword inside a burial mound in Al Ain. It was oxidised, but we learnt that people were buried with their personal goods. The restored sword showed the warrior mentality of the people,” Khalifa Al Mubarak says during the tour. It is this command of narrative that shapes the visitor experience.

A child stands inside the Zayed National Museum in Abu Dhabi

A child stands inside the Zayed National Museum in Abu Dhabi
| Photo Credit:
AFP

Celebrating the UAE

The museum houses 1,500 objects, sourced from all seven emirates, within six permanent galleries, combining archaeological artefacts, historic objects, audiovisual and sensory experiences, and contemporary installations and reconstructions. It also pays tribute to the life and times of Shaikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, founding father of the UAE. The tour begins with the 600-metre outdoor Al Masar Garden, featuring a ghaf (Persian mesquite) tree from one of his residences. Inside, replicas of horses have been recreated from breeds descended from those he rode, and a replica of his 1966 Chrysler Newport and his camel stick accompany the exhibits.

Women walk inside the Zayed National Museum in Abu Dhabi.

Women walk inside the Zayed National Museum in Abu Dhabi.
| Photo Credit:
AFP

The narrative celebrates the nation’s enduring bond with falcons too. “Falcons were key to survival as they helped hunt during difficult times. They are our family,” says the curator of a gallery depicting a land that is part desert, part sea and part urban carnival. One diorama illustrates the ancient Tethys Sea and the formation of fossil fuels, represented through glass micro-organisms symbolising the country’s modern wealth. Another display presents one of the oldest known pearls, an 8,000-year-old find discovered in 2017 on Marawah Island, linking pearl-diving to the country’s long history.

Statuery featuring falcons

Statuery featuring falcons

The cultural district

Built on Saadiyat Island, the museum joins a constellation of institutions reshaping the UAE’s cultural landscape. It is at walking distance from the Louvre Abu Dhabi, on an artificial island crowned by a steel dome visible from space, which houses artefacts ranging from Renaissance paintings to bronzes from Tamil Nadu. The Guggenheim Abu Dhabi is under construction, while the Natural History Museum Abu Dhabi currently hosts Lucy, the 3.2-million-year-old skeleton considered the mother of humanity, on loan from Ethiopia.

A burial mound

A burial mound

By bringing these intertwined human narratives together, Abu Dhabi is forging a new visual history of the country — one in which the Zayed National Museum asserts its suzerainty over culture and our collective human heritage.

Published – January 17, 2026 02:01 pm IST



Source link

Author Prajwal Parajuly romanticises Chennai winter and rightfully so


Saai

Saai
| Photo Credit: Saai

New York may have its autumn, and Paris its spring, but no city can do December as well as Chennai. 

Sentimentalists — and my editor — will rhapsodise about a Calcutta Christmas, which, I’ll concede, is adequately charming. Haters will froth in their masked mouths about Delhi and peanuts in the sun until a catty quip about the smog shushes them. The pretentious will mumble hogwash about some place where The White Lotus is being filmed, but you will smack them with their well-stamped passport. That modest corridor between November-end and January-end, say what you will, entirely belongs to Chennai. 

No sooner will I switch off the AC than the NRIs descend on the city with their tedious nostalgia. When it is finally no-fan weather— yes, those days do come by — Christmas rolls around. By its lonesome self, I will admit, a Chennai Christmas isn’t extraordinary. It’s the Marghazi season coinciding with the festival and New Year’s and that sliver of balmy weather that makes a winter here so damn irresistible. What’s not to like about hurrying to a canteen lunch late in the morning so you can beat the lines, eating a wholesome vegetarian meal on a banana-leaf plate and sneaking in a quick concert — all before it’s even noon?  

My first winter here, I missed out on the uniquely Chennai phenomenon of sabha canteens. I did attend a couple of concerts, but the long lines for food, no matter how compelling the kalkandu bath, were a deterrent. Friends berated me for the sacrilege. Standing in line is part of the canteen charm, they said. When I finally made my way to the Music Academy canteen with a writer friend this season, I grumbled that there had to be a better method to access these meals. She declared she knew a loophole. The idea was to collect our tokens and hop over to the Savera next door for a drink.

The waiting time shrank; the city’s social calendar, of course, did not.

Like December wasn’t groaning with events already, the Madras Art Weekend decided it would happen in the first week. As the initial invites for events around it trickled in, I was sceptical. I was still recovering from the sheer scale of Art Mumbai — the talent, the monies exchanging hands, the over-the-top parties — like the small-town boy that I am. For a moment, I questioned if Bombay’s hunger for art acquisition translated to its having even more money than New York. There was no way Chennai would compare. But when I was given a walk-through of Udal: Reading the Body, from the Avtar Collection, in a spectacularly transformed Alliance Francaise venue, I concluded I was being cynical. The Madras Art Weekend, and other art events that the winter season incubates, is no Art Mumbai for the simple reason that it doesn’t aspire to be. It is no Kochi Biennale. It need not be. It is cosy, sincere and uniquely Chennai. 

Cosy is also how I’d describe the nascent trend of pop-up Carnatic gigs. The decision of gatekeepers of culture to unleash these concerts into seemingly unexpected venues from straitlaced, often-staid sabhas was inspired. As I took in the ragas of Rithvik Raja at Beachville Coffee Roasters in Alwarpet, I was struck by just how wonderfully incongruous, how intimate, the entire musical experience became. The performers weren’t sat on a stage. Some of us sat cross-legged on the floor. The effect was bizarrely democratising. Detractors will point out that Carnatic music and the whir of coffee makers make for an unhappy marriage, but café owners respect musicians enough to abort kitchen service for the duration of the performance. I am all for consumption of all art in all forms, art in all venues. Sometimes art needs to escape its constraints. Sometimes it just needs a new vessel. I want my Carnatic concerts at sabhas and at coffee shops. I want my music after a canteen lunch and as an accompaniment to my hot chocolate. 

Perhaps it’s fitting that this city of quietly endowed libraries and robust independent bookstores should end the season with a literature festival. The Hindu Lit for Life and I unfortunately continue to be star-crossed. The dates are clashing with the Jaipur Literature Festival, where I am as I write this. I am distraught about not being in Chennai because so many of my students are interns at Lit for Life. I am equally sad about missing my author friends, some of whom are valiantly juggling both the festivals. I seek solace in the fact that they, too, will, in their brief stay, discover the delights of a Chennai winter. 

Prajwal Parajuly is a novelist. Karma and Lola, his new book, is forthcoming in 2026. He teaches Creative Writing at Krea University and oscillates between New York City and Sri City.



Source link