Sunday, September 28, 2025

Why me? But why would it not be me?

Reading books have never been an escape for me. Books instead give me a company - during a flight, in a waiting lounge and in the privacy of a clean toilet. I never feel lonely in the company of a book, however, it encourages solitude for me to attain personal space and tranquility. Books have helped me visit new places, meet unknown people, and travel to bygone era in history. Books should be valued as much because each book, each story, and each character has something to teach its reader. Each book is unique, and each book has something different to offer you and something different to teach the reader. 

Collecting books has been a habit for long, however, reading them got value-addition to the collection during the past two decades only. It has continued ever since, resulting in serious space constraint for housing books. Bookshelves have continued to expand at the cost of shrinking wardrobe. Simply put, books are proud possession, and a new book is added to my personal library every week. It is a typical middle-class home in which books can be found in every room. The only condition being that the books found in one room do not get replaced, as space is not easy to be found elsewhere. 

The first thing I noticed as I got back to my senses after being hit by a paralytic attack was a book titled One Medicine. The author of the book Dr, Matt Morgan concluded that the most time we spend with animals is when they are in our plate and suggested that learning how animals survive and thrive be brought into our circle of concerns. My cognitive ability to comprehend more than a printed page was grossly restricted. Luckily, the book took a fascinating dive into the physiology of the animal kingdom which let me know that the female kangaroos have three vaginas for different purposes – two for having sex and one for giving birth. It came to me as a surprise.  

It has been a year of recovery for me during which I got to meet many relatives and numerous friends. The relatives and friends continued visiting me, but towards later part of the year their numbers shrunk. Rightfully so, as much of it was replaced by convenient phone calls and video chats. It worked no less. But books maintained their incoming regularity – a book once every week. Since virtual books were neither my choice nor compulsion, I got a chance to get as many as 55 new books in little more than 10 genres. Books have been comforting and transformative.   

A devastating accident in Rome in 2022, did leave the noted writer Hanif Kureishi paralyzed but not without any dent on his creative zeal. In Shattered, he records his daily ordeal with rare insights from hospital beds in different hospitals, and questions: Why me? Rarely it ever gets a credible answer. Why it would not be you? Though we would like to be acknowledged for our exceptional qualities, it is our ordinariness that comes to the surface most of the times. And this is what leaves us wondering ‘who else but not me’. Though we may be important to one another, according to Kafka, we are not much more than nothing in the universe. 

The self, howsoever exceptional, is as best an illusion. Didn’t the Buddha, argued thousands of years ago, that our belief in self is the root cause of most of our sufferings? Poring over ancient Buddhist texts, Jay L. Garfield, Maria Heim and Robert H. Sharf teamed together to dismantle notion of the self in their book How To Lose Yourself. Such books listen and make us forget our trouble. Need it be said that books smell great, they are reliable, they are informative, and they’re always there when you need them. 

As one gets exposed to books one learns so much that is both distinctive and fascinating, as well as enriching and exhaustive. If nothing, it helps reflect upon new perspectives and ideas. Once considered an indulgence befitting only the elite, this Italian invention has evolved into one of the most popular mass-market food products ever developed. In Ice Cream: A Global History, journalist Laura B. Weiss takes the reader on a fascinating journey through the ages to tell the lively story of how this delicious dessert became a global sensation. With artificial intelligence occupying center-stage in all that we speculate, The Co-Intelligence Revolution envisions a future in which human ingenuity and artificial intelligence work as powerful allies to co-create ground-breaking innovations and transformed institutions. Citing the case of beauty giant L’Oreal, Venkat Ramaswamy and Krishnan Narayanan provide insights on how artificial intelligence engages as co-worker and coach in generating new processes and products. 

The books on diverse topics become an essential fodder (for me) to keep the cognitive faculty meaningfully engaged. It has been a quarter century of collecting, reading and generating book reviews. As many as 26 books out 55 were reviewed during the year and published in reputed newspapers. The yearly assessment by the neurosurgeon revealed that the progress has been overtly satisfactory. Even in the medical exigency the positive approach towards life has worked its way forward, according to the doctor. Books have played a major role in keeping the cognitive aspect pepped up. 

First published in the Hindustan Times.

Saturday, September 20, 2025

An icon who evolved as an institution

Legends are born once in lifetime and so was Dilip Kumar, an icon who evolved as an institution. Vaijantimala, his co-star in seven hugely successful films, had once remarked, ‘The icon’s influence on each generation has been such that there is a Dilip Kumar in every successful actor in Indian cinema’. In the world of cinematic artistry there exists the trail-blazing legacy called ‘method acting’, pioneered by none other than the man who became cinema.  

Dilip Kumar’s method acting brought about a revolutionary change in the portrayal of characters on screen, and with it the very art of film acting. The unforgettable classics such as Devdas (1955), Gunga Jamuna (1961) and Mughal-e-Azam (1960) depict the layers of emotions he continues to evoke in the viewers. Even in the provocative Jab pyar kiya to darna kya number one learns that there could be immense power in silence by the stillness and composure of the character of Prince Salim. His silence was perceived to be more powerful, conveyed a lot more than words. Dilip Kumar’s magic on screen remains undeniable – a legacy that continues to enchant countless millions.

Although the discipline of method acting is attributed to the Russian visionary Konstantin Stainslavsky, Dilip Kumar developed his method as an antithesis to the widely followed classical acting. The method as well as the characters he portrayed carried a strong social bearing. His method was rooted in a kind of cultural rediscovery that helped the character acquire the ability to observe the peculiarities and happenings in society. Employing such cultural memory, Dilip Kumar was able to locate his character in a definite sociocultural milieu. 

Considered the ‘tragedy king’ on screen, Dilip Kumar’s profound commitment to his roles and his deep involvement with the character he portrayed led to serious psychological issues for which he had to consult a psychiatrist in England. The advice given to him was to switch to comic roles. And he did such switch-over with aplomb and poise. In Ram aur Shyam (1967) and Gopi (1970), to name only a few, he displayed his comic sense in well-designed structuring of emotions entirely on a different plane. 

Through the luminous prism of only fifty-seven films, film buff Ashok Chopra could construct Dilip Kumar’s cinematic reach that remains profound, timeless and unparalleled. The Man Who Became Cinema intricately observes the manner in which diverse cinematic characterization as the timeless legacy was interpreted and achieved. Exploring each of his cinematic characters intricately grouped in six different categories – film by film and frame by frame – the author develops an understanding on how Dilip Kumar exhibited his formidable capacity to innovate and improvise.   

Chopra could also unearth the innovative development referred to as the ‘visual verbal personality composite’, through the complex mechanism by which film dialogues were delivered. Dilip Kumar was the only actor to have integrated audio and visual in a scene. What finally gets conveyed to the viewer is not the words and their meanings, but a strange modulation of the sounds of these words by the emotions being conveyed. The author found that was an altogether new cinematic approach.

Such expressions are whispered by the actor when he teases the actress, plays with her and embraces her. In the romantic scene in Aadmi (1968), Dilip Kumar treated his beloved as the beauty and voice of nature. The nuances of this blending of verbal with visual was unique to his style of acting, There is so much to his method that each cinematic frame reveals only a part of it. In his mediation with the audience, Dilip Kumar becomes a memorable vehicle for an intense emotional experience. Such is his method and its range that he lets his co-actors and viewers get cinematic clarity in different roles. 

No wonder many of his films are considered masterpieces to be seen and studied. Before director Ramesh Sippy started work on his film Saagar (1985), actor Kamal Haasan was asked to see Dilip Kumar’s Gunga Jamuna. ‘There are several nuances that every actor should compulsorily watch to understand the meaning of subtlety,’ asserts Kamal Haasan. While it is not easy for every actor to achieve the brilliance that he could but is it what every actor should aspire. It comes as no surprise that Dilip Kumar has not been the most imitated actor, but his acting method is intensely examined and studied. The Man Who Became Cinema is a must-read for film buffs to celebrate the timeless legacy of the cinematic enigma Dilip Kumar.

The Man Who Became Cinema: Dilip Kumar 
by Ashok Chopra
Penguin Ebury Press, New Delhi. 
Extent: 334, Price: Rs. 799.

First published as Premium article in Hindustan Times on September 19, 2025.

Sunday, September 14, 2025

A language that refuses to be caged

Renu Behl, author of the story on gender discrimination Draupadi has woken up, reminds the reader that Urdu was and continues to be the language of the land of the five rivers. This is one of the sixteen short stories written by non-muslims in the volume Whose Urdu Is It Anyway, collated to support the argument that religion is not connected to language. And if language gets yoked to a religion, in this case Urdu with Muslim, it does no good to either the language or the religion. 

Ever since Urdu got adopted the official language of Pakistan, it has been considered the language of muslims, or to be more precise, the language of Indian.muslims. But that seems erroneous because Urdu was born out of the cultural hybridization in the Indian subcontinent during 18th century. What we know as Urdu today can be traced back to Turkish, Arabic, and Persian influence, all of which arrived in the country through waves of trade and conquests. It became the preferred language by the masses. 

But identifying Urdu with muslims has political implications although there is no empirical evidence in favor of this relationship. Can language belong to a religion, or can a geographical claim be laid over a language?  Literary historian Rakhshanda Jalil explores the question through sixteen carefully selected Urdu short stories by non-muslim writers to help bust stereotypes and misconceptions. Any attempt at identifying a language with religion is fraught with a cruel denial of heritage.  

Stories by the well-known non-muslim writers, to name a few, like Krishan Chander, Rajinder Singh Bedi, Kanhaiyalal Kapoor, Devendar Issar, Ramanand Sagar, and Gulzar speak of glorious diversity of issues in different tones and tenors. The idea of objectively selecting these stories affirm the ‘idea of India’, showcasing that Urdu as a language is alive and that it does not belong to muslims only. Including these short stories, there is a vast treasure of Urdu literature that can still reach the nooks and crannies of popular imagination. 

Whose Urdu Is It Anyway? is a loaded query on a hybrid language that borrowed words from many languages - mostly from Persian – and became the elite lingua franca of medieval India. The evolution of ‘rekhta’ acknowledges Urdu as a hybrid language and seeks to popularize it. Interestingly, such is the trend that there are more people who intend pursuing it orally than those who may pursue it as written language. Urdu following is growing irrespective of its religious identity it locates in the heart of Hindustan.   

Do handful of stories address the question on so-called proprietorship over the language? Rakhshanda Jalil has tried to be objective in selecting stories that remain representative of the time and the people. Most narratives haven’t missed the small person who lived on the margins of public consciousness in eking out a living, and when gender indiscrimination was more of a norm than exception. While most stories are located in the early years after independence when a new kind of nativism was being talked about, and when the fledgling nation was grappling with issues of identity and nationhood. It reminds us starkly of the present times when a similar surge of hyper-nationalism is being witnessed. 

The collection of short stories by non-muslim writers represent the region to which they belong, and not their religion. That’s why muslims in Kerala speak malyalam whereas those in Bengal feel at home in bengali. Not without reason, Urdu is and continues to be language in Punjab. As a region and not as a state. That is why Urdu as a language is not confined to a religion. ‘It belongs to whoever is willing to embrace it and in their capable hands, it is willing to be molded like pliable clay.’

Rakhshanda Jalil leaves the reader take his/her time for the essence of these stories to sink in. After all, Urdu has evolved as a language by the people. It does not belong to any state or religion.  

Whose Urdu is it anyway?
by Rakhshanda Jalil
Simon&Schuster, New Delhi. 
Extent: 180, Price. Rs. 499.

First published in Deccan Herald on September 14, 2025

Thursday, September 11, 2025

Wood wide-web

It is easy to think of trees as passive entity with limited mobility, the essential green in the biodiversity of life. That irrespective of its limited specific feature it generates environmental benefits like air cleaning, flood moderation, and carbon dioxide sequestration. But there is a general tendency to take the trees for granted for their environmental and aesthetic values. It is so despite any of 73,000 tree species evolved over 400 million years carry common ecological narrative. Amongst many environmental services on offer, the amazing property of trees is that they can not only bring water down, from the sky, but can sent it back up as transpiration.  

But to assume that trees have only one role that too above ground is to belittle their existence. Conversely, it is amazing how trees have done more as blind explorers beneath the soil to communicate and cooperation not only with themselves but with other species too? It is only in recent times that this awesome creativity of nature is getting revealed. In the process trees have emerged themselves as the original terraformers, breaking down barren rock to create soil, channeling water into rivers, and releasing oxygen into an atmosphere previously inhospitable to complex life. Without trees, the earth would have literally been desert.

This hasn’t been a passive process in itself. Trees have, over millennia, exerted control over fundamental elements – water, air, fire, and the very ground beneath. Element by element, trees have learned to control water, air, fire and the ground beneath, as well as fungi, plants, animals, and even people, shaping them according to their ‘tree-ish’ agenda. According to tree researcher Harriet Rix (The Genius of Trees, 2025, Bodley Head) trees are not victims of change but agents of change in a grand ecological narrative. These are undoubtedly leading actors in the great drama of life on earth. 

Recent scientific research has illuminated the intricate relationships trees maintain with their surroundings. For better part of almost 400 million years, trees have been some of the largest organisms on dry land. They have woven the world into a place of great beauty and extraordinary brilliance. While early research highlights the interesting exchange of resources through what is often dubbed the ‘wood wide web’ – some interpretations have ventured into anthropomorphism and human-like emotions being transmitted to trees. How have trees done this is perhaps the most amazing? 

Do trees have consciousness, intelligence or our leafy friends have feelings? The early work of Suzanne Simard (Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest, 2021, Allen Lane) is worth mentioning here wherein she gives anthropomorphic claims that trees ‘talk’ or ‘love’ to one another. It is like putting a nurturing mammalian face on to the giants of the forest to unfold the complexities of a system. The arboreal history also reveals how these passive organisms fundamentally reshaped the planet. Billions of years ago, as it is known today, these early plants embarked on an evolutionary journey culminating in the majestic trees that dominate landscapes worldwide.

Trees are more than what they may seem to the naked human eyes. Recent research has enlisted the role of trees in shaping the crucial elements of the ecosystem viz., water, air, soil, plants, animals. Although all elements are equally important, but trees have an endearing effect on rainfall and waterflows above and below them. Such is its importance that trees are known to have developed into trees to gain power over water. The anatomy of trees evolved is more tightly engineered than a human body, because rather than moving to avoid drought and flood the trees control their own environment to counter the emerging situation.  

Above the ground, trees are rainmakers and below ground, their roots collect and redistribute water. And in between, the tree can control and use the water within itself. Much like how humans pluck an apple, crush it hard to eat it and bend it plant the core, trees also go through these processes to direct water across the earth. But the core question remains: does water enable the trees or do the trees enable the water? A little bit of both and when the climate change is around them, trees tend to outflank the change by getting better at shaping water.  

There is so much that is now known about trees. Trees are almost godlike, using their wizardry to transform the earth from a stony, storm-ravaged wasteland into a place where life could thrive. They broke barren rock into soil, canalized flood waters into rivers, pumped oxygen into the atmosphere, and turned the desert green. The pinnacle of tree water-engineering comes with the mangroves, which undoubtedly balances out the need for water with the need for air in turning trees to be nothing less than the genius. It’s nothing short of a genius that trees can seed clouds, generate rain and expand their own habitats. 

This is why, scientists argue that we find the smell of wood so comforting and like to press our noses between the pages of books. A little over fifty species of trees constitute ‘divine’ trees, the relationship we have with trees based on our faiths and traditions. Some of these trees are believed to have originated from body parts of the god, the rudraksha tree is believed to have formed from the tears of Lord Shiva. Sacred: The Mysticism, Science, Recipes and Rituals (Ebury 2025) does not investigate such divine ante descents but reflects on the value that are so ascribed. Why are these trees considered invaluable? What is the scientific basis of such a belief? 

An acclaimed author on wellness, who connect traditions with contemporary living, Vasudha Rai delves deep into the science of it. The science of this subject, within the precinct of botany, has been dealt with during past few years but has yet to emerge as an independent subject of scientific enquiry in itself. However, blending spiritual wisdom with scientific research provides new insights on our symbiotic relationships with these trees. It helps reinforce our relationship that views trees beyond the manifestation of the divine. 

What makes divine botany interesting is the manner in which it outlines ancient mysticism, modern science, and enlists recipes to build the narrative that helps reconnect with trees.  Exploring and reviving this subject is not without reason. It is about revisiting our reverence for the green cover which has reached such a crescendo that we are devoted to the intangible god but do not respect tangible manifestations of the divine. 

In reality, every plant must be seen as sacred because every plant species supports some bacteria, insects, bees, birds and mammals. Come to think of it, every plant is anything but divine. According to ancient scriptures, every leaf and blade of grass, branch and the trunk is home to nature spirits. There is an ancient tale in which a guru asks his disciple to go into the forest and find a plant that has no use. The disciple comes back empty-handed because he couldn’t find a single plant that had no use.  

First published in The Hindu as premium article on Sept 11, 2025.     

Sunday, September 7, 2025

Whose Urdu is it anyway?

Historian Audrey Truschke argues that any attempt at identifying a language with religion, and its subsequent delinking, is fraught with a cruel denial of heritage. And as long as language gets yoked to a religion, in this case Urdu and Islam, neither does the language grows nor it gets understood in its entirety. 

A supple and expressive language, Urdu was born out of the cultural hybridization in the Indian subcontinent during 18th century. What we know as Urdu today can be traced back to Turkish, Arabic, and Persian influences, all of which arrived in the country through waves of trade and conquests. It became the preferred language for poets and writers who used its elegance and smart diction not only in literature but in performing arts too. 

But urdu is seen today as a muslim language, moreso as it is the official national language of Pakistan. Identifying urdu with muslims has political implications although there is no empirical evidence to support urdu and muslims are mutually exclusive. Can language belong to a religion, or can a geographical claim be laid over a language?  Literary historian Rakhshanda Jalil explores the question through sixteen carefully selected urdu short stories by non-muslim writers that help in busting stereotypes and persistent misconceptions.  

Stories by well-known progressive writers like Krishan Chander and Rajinder Singh Bedi and film writers like Ramanand Sagar and Gulzar speak of glorious diversity of issues in different tones and tenors. The idea of carefully selecting these stories affirm the ‘idea of India’, showcasing that urdu as a language is alive and that it does not belong to muslims only. Including these short stories, there is a vast treasure of urdu literature that can still reach the nooks and crannies of popular imagination. 

Whose Urdu Is It Anyway? is a loaded query on a hybrid language that borrowed words from many languages - mostly from Persian – and became the elite lingua franca of medieval India. And it acquired different names over its evolution: Hindavi, Hindi, Urdu or Rekhta. Curiously, there are more who intend communicating orally than those who may pursue it as written language. If the annual ‘rekhta’ congregation is any indication, it has s following that is growing irrespective of its religious identity. It locates urdu in the heart of Hindustan.   

Do handful of stories address the question on so-called proprietorship over the language? Rakhshanda Jalil has tried to be objective in selecting stories that remain representative of the time and the people. Most narratives haven’t missed the small person who lived on the margins of public consciousness in eking out a living, and when gender indiscrimination was more of a norm than exception. While most stories are located in the early years after independence when a new kind of nativism was being talked about, and when the fledgling nation was grappling with issues of identity and nationhood. It reminds us starkly of the present times when a similar surge of hyper-nationalism is being witnessed. 

The collection of short stories by non-muslim writers represent the region to which they belong, and not their religion. That’s why muslims in Kerala speak malayalam whereas those in Bengal feel at home in bengali. Not without reason, urdu is and continues to be language in Punjab. As a region and not as a state. That is why urdu as a language is not confined to a religion. ‘It belongs to whoever is willing to embrace it and in their capable hands, it is willing to be molded like pliable clay.’

Rakhshanda Jalil leaves the reader take his/her choice for the essence of these stories to sink in. After all, urdu has evolved as a language by the people. It does not belong to any state or religion.  

Whose Urdu is it anyway?
by Rakhshanda Jalil
Simon&Schuster, New Delhi. 
Extent: 180, Price. Rs. 499.

First published in New Indian Express