A humming word

Migration. Climate Change. Colonialism. War. Mass hysteria. They are peas of the same pod in the context of immigration. Suketu Mehta, author of the Pulitzer-shortlisted Maximum City, writes this book out of anger and wishes he plants a seed of hope. He borrows the title from the folk song “This Land is Our Land” written by   an Okie named Woody Gurthie. Mehta divides the book into three sections and eighteen tiny chapters that elucidate on Immigration. He touches upon: Why is immigration seen as a problem? Why are immigrants often feared? Why do people emigrate? And Why they should be welcomed? Walking into the book, the first section is The Migrants are Coming followed by Why They’re Coming and and Why They’re Feared. The book starts with the unabashed response of Mehta’s grandfather to an elderly suburban man who asks him why he is in London. Mehta’s grandfather says: “Because we are the creditors.[..] You took all our wealth, our diamonds. Now we have c...

/for the gore called 26/11/ The skullcaps hosted brains with misanthropic beliefs and misdirected ideologies. They would have been happier hosting the activists crossing bridges and thresholds and lighting candles--where they belonged. The guns in the rough fingers scared them. The intricately designed caps wanted to plop into the Arabian sea and swim towards the Mediterranean sea. But they couldn't. They did not want a parade of eyes to follow them as they opened the glass doors for a parade of massacre -- a first date, a family holiday.. rummaging sheets and tables and chairs and spraying hate and blood. Their caps were white like a dove. They wept and wept as the police horns and the ambulance wailed. For they belonged to a far off island and it was their silence that murdered the soul of a city and a country. The placid waters turned into a typhoon of rage and wet the city of dreams. Only if the skull caps had limbs to sprint and lend its shoulder.

Ayushmann has mastered the art of finding humour and poetry in the mundanity of life and its problems. Be it in a movie where women are trying hard to conceive and he, becoming the superhero to help them with his superpower called the sperm donation (Vicky Donor) or he is having a hard time to perform the act of making love (Shubh Mangal Savdhaan) or he, having a harder time, accepting that his parents can become parents again (Badhaai ho). He has nailed every role with his acting, singing and mainly, his dialect. It would come as no surprise that he has done it again with Bala.   The good old ingredients: a middle class family, a dominating leading lady and mashed with a problem that plagues us. In this case, hairfall. His life that alters after his hairfall problem begins (his transfer to another department, his breakup, and his rejection at proposals). The strands hugging the comb, tufts of hair in the gutter and the 100s of tips and tricks that he tries ( many with a bald pa...

Much like the city of Ontario, the Royal Ontario Museum on George st, is a center for multi culture. The museum spans over four floors and five hours if you walk at a medium pace (not too brisk). The place is so huge that it could fit a ship. People of all ages were seated on the couches at the entrance to relax their legs after a tiring tour. Taking the mandatory entrance picture, I entered the First Peoples and the Museum of Canada on the first floor. The indigenous people of the Iroquoian Tribe and their lifestyle, their struggles, the war against colonizers in their kayaks, household items and a representation of their summer house, along with the paintings and accompanying pictures, will row you into another century. The museum of Canada hosts objects, paintings and illustrations of life in Canada since the British colonization. With modern tools - representing that they are around us and must not be ignored. If the First peoples was a peek of the indigenous ...

Ruskin Bond is an invertebrate diarist, says the blurb of Landour days. Open the faded brown pages and the scent of various flowers, anecdotes about writers, poetry, recipes, will fill your mind and soul. A skilled writer, Ruskin Bond also offers a list of skills a writer must posses. Here are a few: Have any? By the way, I did not know a Sparrow Hawk either. For those of you who love walking, here's a tidbit: Did you know that many herbs were discovered by long walks into the forests and the ailments were cured by the walks itself? The diary is 140-pages and divided into seasons. Monsoon. Autumn. Summer. Winter. The weather in Mussorie (named after a herb) is conducive to art and no wonder, Bond loves living there. Many a writers have houses there and even in the 1850s, Irishmen built mansions,now unattended. The illustrations of plants and flowers that occupy the margins are like hand and glove. Pick this up for a leisure read and for a quick spa to the aching soul...

Art is a semicolon for our life; on either side, the independent clause is related but a breathing connector, helps us ease our routine. You will still get irritated with the bump holes, changing government policies, changing socio-economics among other labyrinthine problems of life, but knowing that each of us go through the same and when captured on an easel, it relieves you. Look back, after five years, and you’ll realise your worries were in vain. Meanwhile, take a glance at the everyday trance. Aptly named as Trance Everyday, Moshe Sayan, a self-taught Hyderabadi artist, uses vivid colors to capture the rainbow of colours in the sky. You may have captured from your cubicle at work, while sipping some chai or from your pantry or from your balcony but the watercolors carry their own charm. While oleographs, serigraphs are like nymphs and gods in heaven—beautiful but unattainable, watercolors and sketches are the shiny pebbles on earth—natural and attainable. A woman da...

The Indian Photo Fest claims to be the largest photo festival in South Asia. And rightly so. The fest that’s being held from September 20, 2019, to October 19, 2019, chose the right venue as well.   The State Art Gallery is a haven for art lovers. Nestled surreptitiously beside D Mart, the gate leads you to an uphill, dotted by metallic structures of crocodile, deities, and birds; the parapet wells are painted red with Worli art.   Enter the mammoth gallery of three floors and you’ll realize what a beautiful art space is hidden in the concrete jungle of Cyberabad. And you’d thank yourself for dragging yourself through the boisterous traffic to view the annual Indian Photo Festival, that boasts of an illustrious exhibition, book launches, work shops and a dedicated bunch of volunteers and participants. The sprawling exhibition that narrate emotional stories need space and time and what better than this gallery where time pauses for you. With adequate seating arrangemen...