Poppins...

How many times did my uncle, tell me the story of how the universe was formed. With his index finger he would draw the line of a rainbow through the air and tell tales about it's formation in the aftermath of light rainfall, with the sun still shining bright. I still remember, I was in standard two or three then and whenever my uncle realized that concepts were not settling distinctly in my mind, he would pull an edition of Britannica encyclopedia from the book rack and show me the details.

Well, he was to me, my Poppins uncle. I used to visit his house on Saturdays after school, (we used to have half day school on Saturdays) and return back on Sunday night, so that the regular school routine from Monday was not neglected. Every time when I used to leave his place, on a Sunday night, it was a sad faced me, tears rolling down my eyes and a tantrum-filled goodbye. This man, in his late 50s then was a member of the teaching faculty in one of well known technical institutes in India, National Institute of Technology, Rourkela.

I always felt the separation anxiety while leaving on Sunday nights for a number of reasons. First and foremost was, Monday means back to school, getting streamlined for the regular monotonous life again. Other than that, those two days spent in the college campus were literally doses of middle class pampered treatment. Those who have seen any of the IITs or National Institute of Technology or IISc campus, can appreciate better, when I saw the campus is vast, open, lush green, widespread and Brobdingnagian. These are mini townships in themselves and the staff quarters are generally situated in one corner of the unit. Staff quarters have open space and the garden within each quarter's boundary provided the perfect pitch for a game of cricket, cycling, and just run around among the guava, mango and litchi trees playing hide and seek. At evenings, rush to the college campus open-air theater and watch a movie, (am sure this is sort of a ritual in every good campus, of screening movies on weekends at night) and fall asleep in my uncle’s lap half way through the movie.

More than all these, he was one who taught me to write perfectly within the four lines in my notebook to master cursive writing. He was never a teacher to me, just that I felt it more fun and interesting to do something when he asked me to do so. He was the one who instilled in me the pleasure of reading since I was a kid, grew up with Enid Blyton, Hardy Boys books, Tintin and Amar Chitra Katha comics, National Geographic Society magazines, etc.

My downhearted and blue departure from his place on a Sunday night was always buoyed up by a simple gift from my uncle every time. Yes, it's every time. A pack of Poppins and a bar of 5-Star chocolate. So don't you feel, it was pampering, when I had to request my parents many a times to get this share of candies during a 5 day week's time. Fullto masti, reading comics, encyclopedia and no school books, cycling, watching movie in the college campus (cable TV by then was not popular), visiting engineering labs full of boilers and machines such as lathes, drilling machine, etc and last but not the least a pack containing 10 differently colored, button shaped candies. What more do you need?

So that was Poppins uncle to me and to this day, I call him by the same name, though both of us have grown in the past 19 years or so. A couple of weeks back when I saw him at a family function after a long long gap, found that he had grown old, could see wrinkles on his face, hair gone white and he had adorned all the symbols of aging. That's natural, but what I liked about him is that still he is youthful at heart.

True to his keen appreciation for books and keeping in mind the childhood days, he had gifted my elder brother, a book on the eve of his marriage. I even overheard what he transpired to my brother when he handed over the gift in the crowd of guests who had gathered for the reception party.

'I am really proud of you and the kind of individual you have grown up to. Work hard, be smart and make sure that you have a nice life ahead with your partner for life. I also recommend you to open this pack and there is something special inside this. Make sure to read 'this' when you settle back at Chicago'.

Later on, when my brother opened the pack, it was this, a book. Just shows how thoughtful someone can be. Perfect cursive writing.



And there was another small pack, and it had 20 packs of Poppins. A small note was there saying that it was for us brothers. It said 'Even today, the taste of orange, lemon, strawberry, black currant or the pineapple flavored sugary buttons of Poppins is the same, what it was when you were kids.'

Still the words keep resonating in my mind.

Because we live in an age of gross accumulation, flash and displayism. Anything big and showy when it comes to gifting draws more attention. Think 'Bada Hai Toh Behtar Hai', it's the size, the bigness that matters AD from Videocon. But still there are things that generate more compassion and warm sensitivity when it comes to gifting. All it needs to select one of those are attitude, an attitude to embrace the good things of life and in a wordless way of telling someone how much they mean to you or what you think of him/her/them.

This brings to my mind, an unforgettable gift, that one of my friends, a retired newsman and reporter, GV Krishnan had given his friend, Kini. Can you make a wild guess what was that? It was a B2B gift. I know your mind would have thought Business-2-Business for the word B2B, but it stands for Blog-2-Blog. It's the tale of two friends who are now in two different corners of the world but started their career in reporting decades back traveling round the globe.

Kini and I had lost touch with each other when we were still young, wild and experimenting in London. When reconnected, we found ourselves wizened by age, hassles of living, and, in Kini's case, by an incurable ailment. Our re-connect dates back to a mail from him well over a year back, informing me of a change of address. He had shifted base from London (where he had spent four decades) to a chalet bungalow in Herne Bay, Kent - "a geriatric land where one is more likely to see dear old ones scooting around on electric-scooters than young lads on noisy motorbikes". The real message was in Kini's sign-off line that read - 'Uncertainty and hope fills my life at present'.

The complete B2B series is here. Check those, perfect tapestry with words.

Now since this is the time of the year, when people exchange gifts, what gift are you giving me? A pack of Poppins, 'Doooin kya'



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Want to be a part of it? M.I.L.K. ....

Yesterday, while reading on the internet, I read about a contest that would excite many people who often wish to capture the best moments of life and otherwise in their lenses.

The contest titled M.I.L.K.(Moments of Intimacy, Laughter and Kinship) is open to any photographer and that’s the best part of it.

To give a small background about this contest, it goes like this. In 1999, British publisher Hodder Headline (now Hachette Livre) held a global photographic competition called M.I.L.K., inspired by the 1950s landmark photographic exhibition, 'The Family of Man'. The main motive behind this event was to offer an open platform for photographers and search for unique and geographically diverse images on the themes of friendship, family and love.

The results were praise worthy as it turned out to be not only one of the richest photographic collections in history, but also one of the most significant, drawing participation from 17,000 professional and amateur photographers in 164 countries. In total over 40,000 images were received by M.I.L.K., including at least four Pulitzer Prize winners. The 300 winning images were chosen by the Chief Judge, Magnum photographer Elliott Erwitt, and were the basis for three books entitled Family, Friendship and Love and an international touring exhibition launched at New York's Grand Central Terminal in 2001.

To celebrate the 10th anniversary of the original M.I.L.K. competition, M.I.L.K. Licensing (now a subsidiary of PQ Blackwell), again in association with Elliott Erwitt, is conducting a new competition, this year. It is based on the on the themes of friends, families, lovers and laughter to create a new collection of 150 images from across the world.

The photographers would be judged on the basis of these simple requirements.

• The Images that celebrate friendship, family and love.
• Images that tell stories and convey real emotion.
• Images that evoke a humorous response.
• Technical quality.

The contest is open till the 31st Dec'08. Ah ha that's a long way to go. And with the season of festivities and togetherness just starting, think Dusshera, think Diwali, think Thanksgiving, think Christmas, the canvas is just open to paint each one's own composition on the themes that celebrate friendship, family and love.

The contest offers $125,000 as prize money, with the winner getting $50,000 as cash prize. In the end the top 150 pictures would be included in the coming up publication of 'Fresh M.I.L.K.: Friends, Families, Lovers & Laugher', which is scheduled to be printed in autumn 2009. All featured photographers will retain copyright on their images in exchange for granting M.I.L.K. a non-exclusive license.

For more information, regarding how/where to submit the images online, FAQs and other details check the site here.



Does this pic, celebrate friendship, family and love? You decide. But let me try out some other compositions using my frames for this contest and wish you do too. All the best.

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(This pic was taken when the mother had left the puppies for a while in search of some food and I made sure to click this without disturbing their natural moods.)

Get a life...

When I saw the book, 'Get a Life' at a bookstore, the name itself admonished me, whether to buy a copy, because the title sounded like one of the regular self help books. But then when my eyes read the author as Nadine Gordimer, I thought let me give it a try. This was my first read of any work by Nadine Gordimer. I liked the book because contemporary issues formed the framework of the plot, the author modishly jogged towards a wavering climax. No answers are provided and I felt the author has been seeking different interpretations to the various webs we encounter in our lives. In short a provocative book throwing questions at each layer.

The central character, Paul is the child of well-to-do white South Africans, who is forced into a temporary state of in-action and isolation as he is diagnosed of suffering from thyroid cancer. The medical treatment that he undergoes leaves him radioactive, thus being a source of danger to others for some weeks. Sensing the harmful effects of the radioactive radiations, he leaves his wife and only child to return to his childhood family home. His parents, both of whom are nearing retirement, along with a care taker are more than happy to care for their child who is now a 35 year old man. Even though 35, so what. For any parents, their child is always a child, and age is just a number.

This is a novel of inner lives, described emotions not conveyed ones, about human relationships, etc. It's an intricate matrix in which each of the characters is interacting with one's own self.

Paul, an ecologist is fighting for environmental concerns to save the world on one side. On the other side of the fence is Berenice, his wife who works in an advertising agency that facilitates few business firms’ colossal plans for development in the form of constructing highways and resorts, destroying her husband’s beloved wilderness. At a personal level, they share a perfect relationship, make love, have a kid, go out for dinners, and manage the responsibilities at home well but there is contradiction between the values of their work.

How do they manage this?

Paul's mother, Lyndsay, is also a successful professional in the field of law and justice. As a mother, she leaves no stone un-turned when it comes to taking care of her son who has acquired the status of a leper. As the plot develops, she unfolds her past of her heydays, about 15 years ago. A time when she had a four-year affair with a fellow lawyer out of mere desire for gratification. A gross mistake, a lie, and the irreparable damage, are today dark patches of the past for Lyndsay. But some clouds are heavy and don’t get carried away whatsoever. The end result, guilt suffocates Lyndsay.

As the story gains momentum, there is an air of positivity. Paul recovers fast from the radioactive treatment and by the time he is fully cured, both families have changed. Later his parents go to Mexico to fulfill the archaeological vocation Adrian, Paul's dad had sacrificed to support his family. The outcome of this trip is the final surprise in this highly unusual exploration of passionate individual existences.

I found that Gordimer's style is to use less but powerful words. But few sentences were too elliptical and brumous for me to comprehend. Either that's the author bizarre way of writing or my pea sized head didn’t get those Einsteinish format of sentence construction.

Parents are responsible for bringing into the world their progeniture whether deliberately or carelessly and theirs is an unwritten covenant that the life of the child, and by descent the child's child, is to be valued above that of the original progenitors.

But then there are pages, where one would think twice why the author wrote it as fluid prose, though it tastes as good as poetry.

'Where the company of jacaranda fronds finger the same breeze that brushed the boy's soft cheek'.

A slim volume, but the author's literary epithelial ducts convey many things which people won’t like to hear or things people like to share but somehow keep those suppressed.

Hey 'Get a Life'. Nah nah am not giving gyan, here just saying, read the book if that strikes your interest.

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