W(T)alk in the Park

W(T)alk in the Park

I have been taking morning walks in Taman Suropati ever since I shifted to India House, the official residence of the Ambassador of India, located next to the park in Menteng area of Jakarta. Taman Suropati is named after Indonesia’s national hero, Untung Suropati (1660-1706) who led rebellions against the Dutch East India Company. The park was built in 1920 by the then-mayor of Batavia, GJ Bisschop, and used to be called Bisschopplein. India House was built in 1934 and used to be the Italian Consulate before Indonesia’s independence. It has been India House since the early 1950s.

Since June 2024, my walk in the park last about an hour. I am at the park by around 6:30 am and try to be back by around 7:30 to see off my daughter as she goes to attend classes at a Pastry Academy. 

I am a regular at the park with the fond hope that it will help control my weight. My usual companion is the Empire podcast by William Dalrymple and Anita Anand. Of their more than 200 podcasts, I have listened to almost half of them, all during the morning walk. Taman Suropati has stately mahogany trees and is well maintained adding to the pleasure of walking. However, the real reason could be my latent urge to socialize with locals. When we used to live in Delhi, every morning after dropping the kids at SanskritiSchool, I walked in either Lodi Gardens, Nehru Park or at MEA’s Chanakyapuri Complex with a cohort of friends. In Peru, I made friends walking on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. Even in New York, I always teamed up with someone to walk with. During Covid, walking in the Central Park with Gautam Patwa helped preserve my sanity.

Ever since I moved to Jakarta, I have been walking alone. Listening to podcast is not the same as talking to people. Time doesn’t pass easily. Often I find myself taking a break on a bench. Either I am mindlessly scrolling on my phone or watching pointlessly at the pigeons strutting about. Then the apple watch reminds me to resume walking. There are many who walk in Taman Suropati, but there have been no conversations. There is the occasional smile or a promising half nod, but no talking. I haven’t dared to chat up with strangers either, as my Bahasa is rudimentary and I am never sure if the other person is comfortable in English. And so, I have been walking alone enjoying my own company and that of the podcasters.

A few weeks back, I met Pranab Prakash at the Jakarta Car Free day walk on Sudirman and struck up a conversation with him. His organisation, Thryve, works on habitat and forest rehabilitation, a subject close to my heart. One thing led to the other and now we are already planning a replication of an Indonesian agroforestry model in India using Sugar Palms as the main crop. Walking on Jalan Sudirman proved socially productive, but conversations have been elusive at Taman Suropati, until today.

Today, being Saturday, I decided to take it easy. I got out of bed at around 6:30 a.m. and rather than stepping out for the mandatory morning walk and then coming back for tea and reading the newspaper, I decided to reverse the order. Ibu Siti got me my morning cuppa of Darjeeling Tea and Jakarta Post. By the time I had finished the tea and glanced through the newspaper, it was almost 8 a.m. Ishani, my daughter, who is training to participate in the half-marathon in May this year, came in and asked if I was joining her in the park. All hesitation of escaping the morning walk disappeared and I quickly stepped out. She started jogging and I began walking. I was about to put on the airpods (I use the Indian brand Boat) to listen to the Empire podcast, when I thought of calling my wife, Taruna, who is in Indore at the moment. I started conversing with her in our usual tri-lingual mix of English, Hindi and Bangla. As she was still groggy, I was doing most of the talking and on the way passed an elderly gentleman. Overhearing my mix of Hindi and English, from the corner of my eye, I detected his head had half turned towards me. He appeared to be Indian but I wasn’t sure as Indians and Indonesians more often than not, look alike. I myself am often mistakenby others for being Indonesian when I don a Batik shirt. Furthermore, Indians walking on Taman Suropati are rare. So naturally I was curious. On the next round when I was overtaking the gentleman, I looked at him carefully and decided that he was indeed of Indian origin. Making up my mind, I decided to strike a conversation on my next round.

Luckily, the gentleman was taking the small inner round of the park so I was able to close in on him soon enough. This time I greeted him and wished him a good morning. He responded likewise. I asked him if he lived nearby. I proceeded with asking him more questions. Was he a regular morning walker? Yes, he usually he walks with a big group of friends. But as we are in Ramadan, most of his group members are fasting, so they do not walk in the morning. They prefer walking in the evening before breaking the fast. Only a few are taking morning walks these days but they haven’t joined him yet. I then asked him his name. He said he was Bhagwandas Naraindas but everyone called him Bhagu. Just as the conversation was beginning to flow, Bhagu asked me to go carry on, as I was a fast walker and he was slow. I wasn’t ready to give away this opportunity, so I ignored his request and adjusted my pace to keep talking.

As I found him comfortable in my presence, I ventured deeper. I asked him what he did for a living. Bhagu was in the textiles business. He imported textiles and sold them wholesale. Did he import from India? Yes, he did, mostly textiles for ladies garments. How was business these days? Slow, during Ramadan. It was brisk in the month before. Then, just as we faced India House, he asked my name and what I did. When he came to know that I was Ambassador of India, he remembered meeting me once at a public function. Bhagu had been a part of the management of the Gandhi SevaLoka, the organisation that runs Gandhi School. Quickly we reeled out names of  friends in common and Bhagu turned out to be the brother in law of Chandru Mahtani and brother of Barkha, a couple whom we have come to know well since we arrived in Jakarta.  

As we walked along, the conversation moved to the state of the economy and politics, topics which morning walkers revel in. Bhagu is well informed and as he was sharing information about the Indonesian economy, Tan Tjin Kok joined us. Bhagu introduced us and the discussion moved towards business. Tan has oil palm plantations and a forest concession. Oil palm always hits home for me as India is one of the largest importers of Crude Palm Oil from Indonesia. His plantations are in West Kalimantan and he told me that on a recent visit to Pontianak on the way to his plantation he bumped into some Indians in the airport bus. He discovered that they were running an oil palm plantation and oil extraction unit. He told me that he is impressed with the achievements of the Indian diaspora globally and we went on to discuss Kamala Harris, Leo Varadkar, Antonio Costa and Rishi Sunak.

Tan also has a forest concession in Jayapura, Papua. The company which is logging the concession wanted an extension of the contract. He told us that to make their case the manager brought along with him an Indian entrepreneur based out of Surabaya who was buying the logs and exporting to India. Both were convincing him to extend the contract. Tan was impressed when I correctly guessed if the Indian was Anwar Amlas. Anwar, based in Surabaya, is working on establishing a brand of ‘Made in Indonesia’ furniture. No wonder he wanted Tan to continue the contract.

One thing led to another. I recollected while talking with Tan, my recent meeting with R. Raghunath of the KIS Group. They are investors and providers of biogas plants and have already set up a biogas plant for Unilever in Medan. Companies seeking to reduce their carbon footprint are switching to biogas. As Indonesia has huge availability of palm oil residue, KIS is optimistic about increasing its footprint in Indonesia. Tan was immediately interested. 

The conversation among the three of us proceeded effortlessly with Tan enquiring about my family. I told him about my twin daughters. Nandini, an engineer, is working with ASML in Eindhoven. Ishani who was running in the park is training to become a pastry chef. This excited Tan as his niece Lydia, is also a baker. She went to hotel management school at Cornell and is now running her own bakery. We agreed to make the two meet. On that note as other friends of Bhagu and Tan started to join the group, I sought leave and went to look for my daughter in the park.

Ishani had by then finished her run and was walking to cool down. I told her how extremely serendipitous today’s morning walk had been. I narrated to her my conversations with Bhagu and Tan and she got extremely excited to learn about Lydia and her bakery. As we both turned the corner we again bumped into Bhagu and Tan and their other friends. Now the group was bigger. We found Tan talking to Lydia on the phone. We came to know that Lydia’s brand is Elevate and she makes organic and vegan breads. Tan offered to send in a hamper, which arrived soon after we reached home. Ishani of course was delighted and promptly posted it on her Instagram story.

Bhagu also introduced us to the other friends. We met Simon and hs wife Oka, who run Sarimande, a chain of Padang Restaurants. I told him that we enjoyed Padang food and we often went to Garuda restaurant but found it difficult to find vegetarian Padang food. Simon said his restaurants in Jakarta and Bali have lots of plant based food and he even has a vegan menu. Instantly, the challenge of taking Taruna, a vegetarian, to a Padang restaurant was resolved.

I soon learnt that this group was part of a larger group of about 20 morning walkers who meet regularly. The group was created during Covid as the only place people could meet was in public parks. So people, hitherto unknown to each other, became friends. Post-Covid the groupendured and every Saturday, after the walk they have breakfast together. I quickly admitted myself into the group and now am looking forward to joining their walks after Lebaran (Eid) holidays.

A lot happened on this single walk. Now instead of walking alone every day, I have found a large network, both professional and personal, that I can join. Since the walk, I have obtained the numbers of all the three persons I met and have exchanged messages. Ishani and Lydia are making plans and Raghunath and Tan are already in contact. Simon has extended us an invite to visit his restaurant after Lebaran. There is much to follow up on, all a result of talking while walking. Strangely, I may be one of the very few looking forward to the holidays ending soon.

                                         &&&&&

Life After Life

 

It was through the Indian Express headlines today that I learnt about the passing away of Dr. Bibek Debroy: "Four days before he passed away, Bibek Debroy wrote his obituary: ‘There is a world outside that exists. What if I am not there? What indeed?’

I was totally unaware of his illness and as he explains in his column one did not miss him as the regular limericks and newspaper columns kept on appreaing. As I read his piece in the Indian Express, these lines - "Perhaps the Purana Project, left incomplete. Manmatha Nath Dutt was reborn, to finish the Purana work. I will be reborn. But I hope not for this."- screamed out at me. 

I can't say that I knew Dr Debroy well. I had read about his work on railway reforms and was aware of him being part of PM's Economic AdvisoryCouncil, but had never met or interacted with him. It was in 2018 when as Consul General in New York that I first interacted with him. He wrote to me about, 'Wealth of India', the monthly magazine that Manmatha Nath Dutt (1855 - 1912) used to publish between 1892 and 1908 that was solely devoted to English translation of best Sanskrit works. While working on the Purana project, Dr. Debroy discovered that large number of our ancient scriptures had already been translated into English by Dutt and published by him in the 'Wealth of India'. 

As Dr. Debroy himself states in an article in the Open Magazine - " One of India’s greatest translators was Manmatha Nath Dutt (Shastri), 1855-1912, who translated from Sanskrit to English and did much more. Chronologically,he translated Valmika Ramayana (sequentially from 1892 to 1894), Markandeya Purana (1896), Bhagavata Purana (1896), Vishnu Purana (1896), Hari Vamsha (1897), Mahanirvana Tantra (1900), Agni Purana (1903-04), Mahabharata (1895-1905), Kamandakiya Nitisara (1896), several samhitas and dharmashastra texts (1906, 1908-09), Garuda Purana (1908) and Rig Veda Samhita (1906-1912)."  

While researching Dutt, he sadly couldn't find any copies of the magazine in India. He was sure that the New York Public Library (NYPL) would have them. Could I help him in getting copies of the magazine, he asked. I was rather pleased that such an eminent person had asked me for help. Promptly I found myself in the cavernous NYPL, asking the librarian for the 'Wealth of India'. NYPL did not have physical copies, but  had microfiche of several issues of the magazine. Could I get copies of the microfiche? Yes for a small fee. I remember paying about US$ 100 or so and shipped them to Dr. Debroy in the  diplomatic bag. Soon I received a mail of gratitude. 

In June 2020, I was back in India. Within a few weeks of my arrival I got a message from Dr. Debroy asking for my mailing address. He had written a book on Manmatha Dutt, and since I had helped him getting material about him, he wanted to send me a copy. I was touched that he mentioned me in the acknowledgedments. I read the book with particular fascination, as I had never heard about Dutt  before and I was moved by his committment to his cause. Dutt was convinced about the greatness and glory of ancient India and held the view that our scriptures should be brought to the notice of the contemporary world. To me, Dutt is an unsung hero who has not got the attention or credit for his monumental works. He was a pioneer by all accounts and deserves to be part of our history as a great Indian.

We exchanged messages from time-to-time. I got around to addressing him as Dada. Sometimes I shared articles from the blog that I had started to write. On 9 March 2022, I sent him my piece on Reciprocity that had appeared in Speaking Tree of Times of India. He replied in Bangla: "কোন একদিন আসবেন। মন্মথনাথ দত্তের আসল গল্প বলবো। যা বইতে লিখি নি। " (Do come some day. I will tell you the real story of Manmatha Nath Dutt. What I have not written in the book). Piqued, I responded that I will bring along a friend. He replied, "Of course, But on Manmatha Nath Dutt, will tell you private sutff. So, for that, please come alone".  

I was curious and went alone to the Niti Aayog office to see him. As I entered, he asked me if had sufficient time in hand as he wanted to share some thing with me, which hadn't shared with many. I was now truly intrigued. I remember spending more than an hour listening with rapt attention to his tale. He also asked me not tell anyone what he was telling me as people would think that he had lost his mind. 

Today, when he is no more, and he has left behind a tantalising reference in his self written obituary, I dare to tell what he told, as a tribute to him .

Dada said, "Sandeep, I am convinced that I am Manmatha Nath Dutt reborn". I was startled and I bent forward to listen intently as Dada continued. Since he started the Purana project, any book that he picked up for translation, he discoved that it had already been translated by Manmatha Dutt. And there are many. Not only that. When he had been travelling to cities that he never been before, he discovered to his own surprise that he felt as if he knew the place already. He had never ever before been to Kurukshetra and Varanasi in this  life, yet when he went there he seemed to know both the places well and in fact in Varanasi he knew each and every gali of the famous Bangali Tola. Research by him on  Dutt revealed that his previous avatar had been to those places. Not only this, he added with exasperation that nights went by without sleep. Whenever he slept at night the entire past life of Manmatha Dutt flashed through his mind, recounting every detail of the latter's life. While, I wasn't taking notes, I remember him telling me several more coincidences of his life with that of Manmatha Dutt. I was spellbound. I felt as if I was watching Shonar Kella, the 1974 film by Satyajit Ray on the theme of after life. 

A few months later in September 2022, I met Dada once again with wife Suparna at the Vasant Vihar residence of Mr. R.K Pachnanda, former West Bengal cadre IPS officer from Haryana. I took him aside and asked  whether he still dreamt of Manmatha Dutt. He said, "no, no more. Those episodes had now passed but I am convinced  that I am Manmatha Nath Dutt reincarnate". He was happy about it and this realisation had now become part of his existence. Then he said something else, even more startling, which I will not reveal here.  

As I write this piece, I look up Dada' book on Manmatha Nath Dutt on Amazon India. The teaser rather uncannily reads:  "Who is Manmatha Nath Dutt? This Question starts haunting Bibek Debroy when he finds that name imprinted on the translations of almost all ancient texts that he too wants to translate from Sanskrit into English. While multiple translations are not uncommon, what were the chances of two translators invariably choosing the same set of texts? It was almost like Manmatha Nath Dutt had left a trail for Bibek Debroy to follow...

We will now await another Bibek Debroy to follow the trail .... 

#ManmathanathDutt #BibekDebroy #Reincarnation #WealthofIndia

                                                &&&&&

JABA- Jakarta Biryani Association

    Prapti's Kolkata Mutton Biryani in Jakarta

    

    Biryani is the single most-ordered Indian dish online, and has been labelled as the most popular dish overall in India. Perhaps its popularity has to do with how easily it can be shared in big gatherings, or the wholesomeness of the dish that provides instant satisfaction and prevents people from asking for anything else. It is a complete meal and there is hardly any need for accompaniments. No wonder a pot of Biryani is almost always welcomed with open arms (mouths). We often order it to eat at home when cooking seems too much of a chore at the end of a long day - when a warm meal is needed to warm the soul, or we serve it at weddings, hoping to please and satisfy the hordes. For impromptu parties, when you do not want to burden your spouse, Biryani is the answer. Covid and e-commerce have given Biryani sales a big boost, all for the better. For me, there is no better bonding with friends than over Biryani.

In the Covid and post-Covid era, three major Biryani home delivery companies gained prominence in Delhi, my hometown. Leading the pack was ‘Biryani Blues’, whose buy one get one offer of Biryani in earthen pots has become famous. Then there is ‘Biryani by Kilo’, which was affordable but lacked outreach. Finally, there is ‘Behrouze Biryani’ with strong social media marketing and is therefore hard to miss.  At home, we tried all the three with inclusive results on which was the best. This led to frequent debates regarding where to order from, each time a Biryani craving gripped the household.

        Layered or Unlayered 

There are essentially two styles of cooking Biryani: Pakki and Kacchi. In the Pakki style, Basmati or other scented rice and meat are cooked separately and then layered, while in the Kacchi style, raw marinated meat (chicken or goat meat) is placed at the bottom of the cooking pot and partially cooked aromatic rice is placed on top of the marinated meat. The pot is sealed and the meat and rice slow-cooked in its own steam through a process called ‘dum’. There is also an intermediate method where partially cooked meat and rice are then layered in a pot and cooked in dum style. Both styles cook the rice and the meat slowly in pots with dough sealing the lid which ensures that all the flavours are sealed in.

The Great Biryani Traditions 

At the risk of hurting regional feelings, I proclaim that there are three great Biryani traditions in India – i) Lucknow or Awadhi Biryani; ii) Hyderabadi Biryani; and iii) Kolkata Biryani (with its addition of potato pieces). In reality the Kolkata Biryani is an offshoot of the Awadhi tradition. The Kacchi Biryani of Dhaka is a continuation of the Kolkata tradition, perfected to a fine art by the Dhaka chefs. It has been helped by the establishment of the custom of only serving Kacchi Biryani at weddings. This has provided great patronage to the Bangladeshi chefs.

Lucknow and Hyderabad have such strong Biryani traditions perhaps due to the historical ties of the two cities with Persia. According to the historian Lizzie Collingham, the modern Biryani developed in the royal kitchens of the Mughal Empire (1526–1857) and is a mix of the Indian spicy rice dishes and the Persian pilaf. Some say that it was the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb who took Biryani to South India and it was adopted and perfected by the Nizams of Hyderabad. Others discount the Mughal theory and state that cooking meat with rice predates the Mughals in India. Whatever may be the provenance, the name is Biryani, which derives from the Biriyan, the Persian word for fried or grilled.

Before I invite opprobrium, I hasten to add that there are other Biryani traditions as well. I particularly like Biryani in Karnataka, Tamil Nadu and Kerala. Crowd sourced information reveals several Biryani traditions. Author  Pranay Lal mentions delicious Amber, Dindigul, Chettinad, Rawther, North Arcot Biryanis traditions of Tamil Nadu. Dindigul Thalapakatti Biryani is getting famous in Tamil Nadu. Then we have Alleppey, Calicut, Thalassery and Sutain Batheri Biryanis from Kerala. Even Bengal has more than just the Kolkata and Dhaka Biryani- there is Bhatkali and Cossimpur Biryani too. Even in Indonesia there is Nasi Biryani, which very frankly does not compete favourably with Nasi Goreng, the flagship and delicious national rice dish of the country.

Brand Biryani

The above, notwithstanding, it is fair to make the point that the three specific cities I mention have been able to brand their Biryani well. They have succeeded in converting Biryani from a dish into a cuisine. Furthermore, people from these cities are very passionate about their Biryani. Even before the social media and mobile phone revolution, we are aware of people, including myself, going to the Paradise restaurant in Hyderabad and getting Biryani packed before catching a train or a plane. Mutton Biryani from Cafe Bahar in Hyderguda and Chicken Biryani from Shah Ghouse in Towlichoki, Hyderabad are renowned.

Just as the name Paradise has got attached to Hyderabadi Biryani, Shiraz and Arsalan as synonymous with Kolkata Biryani, and Idris and Lala of Lucknow Chowk to the Lucknow’s tradition. Kolkattans even squabble about which is the best between Shiraz and Arsalan. Others say that Rahmania and Zeeshan are the original and many lament the decline of Aminia. We are not aware of similar branding of other cities with their Biryanis. 

A question about famous Biryani joints in Lucknow in my business school alumni whatsapp group elicited a variety of passionate and prompt responses. All confirmed that Idris and Lala at Chowk were the most authentic places. For Lalle or Lala Biryani, the advice is to be there by 5:30 p.m., as he has only 2 handis. Many cautioned that the wait at Idris can be at least an hour. Mubeen at Chowk, though more well known for its Nihari Kulcha also serves good Biryani. Zeeshan, next to Tulsi, and close to Lucknow DM’s house, also serves decent Biryani. Then there is Wahid at Aminabad. Dastarkhwan’s Biryani is also very good and they have an outlet at the airport as well. In addition there are many other nameless Biryani vendors at Chowk and in the neighbouring Nakkhass locality who dish  out authentic Awadhi Biryani.

What is Biryani? 

Before moving forward, let me also put another debate to rest. When I speak of Biryani I mean meat (either mutton/goat meat or chicken) cooked with rice exclusively. Rice cooked with vegetables is not Biryani but pulao or tahri. These days however, Kathal (jackfruit) Biryani is getting popular, as the texture of unripe jackfruit mimics meat. Some Biryani die-hards claim Biryani is only made with goat meat and there is no such thing as chicken Biryani. I stand for both mutton and chicken Biryani. Biryani puritans also claim that rice and meat cooked separately and then put together is not Biryani, and that only Kacchi Biryani is Biryani but I am not such a Biryani fundamentalist. Although, they may have a point, cooking meat and rice together and giving the ‘dum’ is quite an art which only a few can perfect, the Pakki style should also pass muster. To me, the only unacceptable Biryani is what some call vegetable Biryani. Once of course I tried egg Biryani to please my eggetarian wife using a combination of boiled, omelette and scrambled egg. The appreciation received was not commensurate with the effort made. I have not dared to repeat it.

Now, the distinguishing features of the three great Biryani traditions. A survey of literature doesn’t produce much difference between the three traditions because all use spices, condiments, aromatic rice and marinated meat in varied combinations. In the sub-continent there are many varieties of aromatic rice. Apart from Basmati, Gobindobhog is used in Bengal, Chitti Mutyalu in Andhra/Telangana and Kaima in Kerala. Sona Masuri is also widely used in South India. In Bangladesh Chinigura and Kalajeera varieties are used in Biryani.

The Hyderabadi Biryani is the spiciest of the three and is mostly made with chicken or goat meat and cooked mostly in the Kacchi style. It is almost always served with ‘Mirchi ka Salan’ (a gravy made of groundnut, sesame seeds, coconut and green chillies). We can also detect the ubiquitous karri patta in the Biryani. The Lucknow or Awadhi Biryani is made with goat meat in the dum style, which is a mix of the Pakki and Kacchi style. Here the marinated meat and rice are partially cooked separately and then layered in a pot and then cooked in the dum pukht way over a slow flame. Rose water, saffron and kewra are used for the aroma but there are no eggs or potatoes. It is usually served with a spicy curry called ‘tari’ and ‘raita’.

The Kolkata Biryani traces its roots to the cooks (khansamas) of the exiled Nawab of Awadh, Wajid Ali Shah. After the British took over Awadh in 1857, Shah was exiled to the then Calcutta and was permitted to take his retinue of servants and cooks. They settled in the area which is known as Metiabruz. There they made Awadhi Biryani and fed the exiled Nawab. But the pension the British paid him was not sufficient royal so not enough meat could be added to the rice. So the Nawab’s cooks innovated and began to add potatoes and eggs to the Biryani. So in addition to rice and meat, the now new tradition of Biryani emerging from Kolkata had eggs and potatoes. As Bengalis love to eat eggs and potatoes, they welcome the innovation with gusto and they have attached pride to what actually was a poor man’s Awadhi Biryani. Kolkata Biryani is a meal in itself and I have not seen being served with any accompaniments. The Oudh 1590 chain of restaurants in Kolkata, run by my friend Shiladitya Chowdhury, celebrates this Awadhi connection. 

Craving for Biryani At Jakarta 

Now going back to the domestic squabble in Delhi regarding which Biryani to order? My daughters and wife have always preferred the super spicy Chicken 65 Hyderabadi Biryani and its supposedly vegetarian variant the Paneer 65 Hyderabadi Biryani. I never had the stomach for the super spicy Hyderabadi, so I always preferred the milder and fragrant Kolkata variety from ‘Biryani by Kilo’. What I like about the Kolkata Biryani is not just absence of the heat of chillies but at the same time the presence of flavours from Jaiphal (nutmeg) and Javithri (mace)- see the Indonesia connection.

After being in Indonesia for a few months, one day in December 2023, I was suddenly seized by a strong craving for the Kolkata Biryani. It was a very specific craving - only Kolkata Biryani. I could sense the aroma of nutmeg and mace wafting through my nose, and turning me dizzy, without the physical presence of the Biryani. The best word to describe this feeling is the Urdu word – ‘talab’. It was irresistible, yet unavailable, as far as I knew, in Jakarta.

I can cook Biryani but more the Hyderabadi type and that too by layering the rice and the meat but I had never tried the Kolkata Biryani. Taruna, my wife, makes decent Biryani, but she was away in India. Loneliness and craving for food is a dangerous combination. 

Finally, as the craving did not dissipate but aggravated, I decided to make it. So, I posted an innocent query in the Jakarta Bengali Association (JABA) Whatsapp, asking if anyone had an easy Kolkata Biryani recipe.

Arindam was the first to see my message. He has been here long enough to know who the best Biryani cooks are. He immediately contacted Joyita and Prapti. To their credit both promptly got in touch with me saying that they run home food delivery services and they do make Kolkata Biryani. Relief! As I was contemplating whom to order from, Kaushik immediately in his very friendly style zapped in a recipe which he has perfected through the process of trial and error. Before I finished reading Kaushik’s recipe, Srilekha sent me her easy to cook chicken Biryani recipe. From zero biryani prospects to four within minutes! I was overwhelmed.

As there was the home delivery option available, I thought to keep Kaushik and Srilekha's recipe for later and ordered from Prapti. She not only sent large amounts of Kolkata Biryani but also macher (fish) chop (cutlet) and mochar (banana flower) chop (cutlet). I am yet to figure out why Bengalis call cutlets- chop? Prapti’s Biryani lasted for some days as I was cautious enough to deep freeze the surplus. It lasted enough to satisfy my talab.

     Bonding Over Biryani   

   The response of the community filled not only my stomach but also my heart. I write this piece as a tribute to community feeling and camaraderie in Jakarta. For the Kolkata Biryani buffs, I share here the two recipes that I got through the JABA group. In Jawa, we may now as well have yet another JABA - Jakarta Biryani Association - to bring together all the great Indian Biryani traditions. Jakarta Biryani Ki Jai Ho.

  

Kolkata Chicken Biryani by Srilekha Biswas

Take 50 ml milk, soak a few strands of saffron in it, cover and keep it aside. In the pressure cooker, put 1 tablespoon ghee and fry the onion slices (for making birista)… make it golden brown and set it aside. In the same ghee, ( you can add more ghee if you need) let very little birista to be there, add whole garam masala (green cardamom, cloves cinnamon stick), add chopped ginger and garlic, fry it for 2-3 minutes and add Chicken Biryani masala ( 1-2 teaspoon), half teaspoon coriander powder, salt and cook for 2 mins (add very little water if required so that the masala doesn’t burn), then add chicken with bone, big cut potatoes and salt and cook in high heat for 5-7 mins, add half teaspoon crushed garam masala, very little bit of water (because the chicken will release water) … pressure cook for 4 whistles on high heat, let it release on its own ( before closing the lid, please check the taste of salt in the water, if you feel it is less, add more because the rice will absorb salt). Soak the basmati rice in water after washing (only for 15 minutes). Tip: soak it after the last whistle. Let the pressure cooker release steam on its own, put it on high heat, stir it for 5 minutes, so that not much gravy is in there. Next add the basmati rice in it, add 1 tablespoon ghee, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 tablespoon saffron milk, 1 tablespoon rose water, 1 tablespoon kewra water, garam masala half teaspoon, add water (measurement: for rice 1 cup, add water 1.5 cup) …..pressure cook on high heat (2 whistles ), and then let the pressure release on its own. When the pressure releases, open and add the birista, and then you have the easiest and the yummiest food of Kolkata. Pro tip: garam masala tastes better if green cardamom, cinnamon and cloves are blended together : ratio is 2:2:1, store bought garama masalas aren’t tasty)

Kolkata Mutton Biryani by Kaushik Ghosh

Marinate 1 kg of mutton (goat meat) with yoghurt, ginger garlic paste for 1 hour. Fry 500 grams of finely chopped onions till light brown. Set aside half as birista. Cook the mutton in the onions along with gota gorom masala (sabut garam masala), javithri (mace), jaiphal (nutmeg), shahi jeera and a bit of Biryani masala. Separately fry potato with turmeric and add to mutton when it is 75% cooked . Make rice with gota gorom masala, ghee and cook till 70%. Now is the layering:  meat, rice, birista, ghee, Biryani masala.  Top up with some saffron milk and a generous amount of kewra water. Put it on dum for 15-20 mins. Let it rest after that for 20 mins. And voila! It’s ready to be eaten.

 #Biryani    #Jakarta    #KolkataBiryani 

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Dancing Ferns of Sumatra

 

“Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” - Roald Dahl

 

From the moment we, Taruna, my wife, and I, learnt that we would be moving to Indonesia, we felt a magnetic and uncanny pull towards the country. How absolutely blessed we thought, we were, as we set about reading about the country which was going to be our home for at least three years. Indonesia, an archipelagic nation of more than 18,000 islands and islets, of which only around 6,000 are inhabited has enormous natural, historical and contemporary treasures to appreciate and soak in. It is also widely diverse in terms of traditions, languages, ethnicity, religionS and biodiversity. Interestingly, Indonesia’s national motto is “Bhinneka Tunggal Ika” meaning ‘Unity in Diversity’ is akin to India’s own national ethos. For me personally, the tropical rain forests of Kalimantan and Sumatra with their orangutans and honey bears, the Komodo islands with their dragons held a special appeal.

Another aspect of Indonesia that particularly fascinate me, is the national obsession with abbreviations, acronyms and telegraphic language, a trait which I personally have grown to practice and enjoy. Quickly I had to quickly figure out that Ambassador is 'Dubes', short form 'Dutabesar'; 'Monas' is 'Monument Nasional'; and 'Nataru' stands of 'Hari Natal dan Tahun Baru' meaning Christmas and New Year. Even political parties use abbrevations, and unlike India where we use alphabets, for example Bharatiya Janata Party is BJP, in Indonesia the words are also  abbreviated by syllabes. So 'Golkar' is the abbreaviated form of 'Golongan Karya' or Party of Functional Groups and 'Gerindra' is the short from of Partai Gerakan Indonesia Raya, the Great Indonesia Movement Party. There is even 'DO', meaning School or University 'Drop Out'. The Jakarta-Bandung High Speed Train is onomatipoeically called 'Whoosh', the short for 'Waktu Hemat, Operasi Optimal, Sistem Hebat' which means, 'Timesaving, Optimal Operation, and Excellent System'. I thought to myself, deciphering and remembering cryptic acronyms is truly going to be a roller coaster ride.  

Amongst our friends and extended circle, we sensed a great deal of fascination bordering on obsession with Bali. They reacted as if we were getting posted to Bali itself. Hardly, anyone said, “see you in Jakarta”, everyone said, “we are coming to Bali’. But Indonesia is certainly so much more than Bali. It has strong religious, cultural, and civilizational links with India. Even in modern times, India and Indonesia were leaders in decolonisation of the world and worked together in the non-aligned movement. In more recent times, with demcracy taking firm root in the country in the late 1990s, India and Indonesia are the two shining examples in Asia of a democratic order bringing people together and bringing them prosperity and opportunities. The more I read about Indonesia and its religion, culture and people, I resolved to get to know the country better. What was also intriguing, particularly from an Indian perspective, in reading Clifford Geertz, Hamish Macdonald and Sadanand Dhume, was the lingering prevalence of mystical traditions in the country's sophisticated Javanese culture.

We had never travelled to Indonesia ever before. I had been to Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam, Philippines and Laos, but somehow Indonesia I had missed. Perhaps the best was kept for the last. I reached Jakarta on 14 August 2023 just in time to be able to attend the Independence Day celebrations. I noted that India obtained independence on 15 August 1947, while Indonesia became free on 17 August 1945. To reach Jakarta, I had to switch planes at Singapore. It was startling that two large countries, maritime neighbours, hardly had any direct air connectivity. Remedying this was certainly a top priority for me. 

No prizes for guessing that our first destination was Bali, which charmed us with its mesmerizing shoreline, captivating mountains and cultural extravaganza evident in the lives of the ordinary Balinese people. If you are sensitive, there is without a doubt a vibe, an energy that soothes, that is impossible to miss. Hinduism in Bali is manifest everywhere. On exiting the airport, at the roundabout, there is a magnificent statue by the master Wayan Winten of Karna and Ghatotkacha, reminiscing Mahabharat depicting Ghatotkacha sacrificing his life for Arjuna as he made Karna use the Vasavi Shakti that he was saving to kill Arjun. On every street, infront of every shop or house, floral offerings to divinity are ubiquitous.

Our next destination was Lake Toba, the largest tectonic-volcanic crater Lake in located in the island of Sumatra formed formed from a super volcanic eruption in Late Pleistocene, 73,500 years ago. The Lake is 87 km long and 27 km wide and has a maximum depth of 530 metres. The natural beauty of Lake Toba, enchanting landscape, friendly and fascinating Batak people and their distinct culture, attracts tourists from all over the world to Lake Toba. The Lake also has a large inhabited island, Samosir, popular with backpackers.

We went hiking in the forests of Sibuaten on the slopes of the volcano, near Simalem resort, on a trail that led us to twin waterfalls. As we walked in silence just listening in awe at the sounds of the jungle, a sense of peace and contentment started pervading our senses. Our guide, Pak Desman Kaban, had done this for 30 years and showed us time and again various leaves, stems, roots and explained the medicinal properties they contained. We  walked spell bound, watching our steps on the mossy stones of the trail, trying to make no noise yet  minding our steps. Suddenly, Pak Kaban, who was some steps ahead of us pointed to a tree and  exclaimed in a hushed tone, “This is a Bird Nest Fern on a tree. It is absolutely still at the moment but sometimes if you are the lucky you can see it dancing.” We were a little surprised by what he said and walked on ignoring his proclamation. Lo and behold, as soon as we came closer to the tree, the leaves started to move, quite strongly, as if they were waving or rather dancing at us. There was no breeze in the forest and not a single leaf on any other tree or shrub was moving. The guide looked at us, with a didn’t I tell you so look, but himself astonishingly pleased. He then smiled and said, “Mother nature is welcoming you.” One felt much gratitude at this connection with the energy of the great mother and her display of the warmth that she always has for her children. Fortunate we indeed were. At the next turn, barely twenty metres away we saw two large gibbons frolicking in the trees. We watched them silently in awe, reconciling the emotions arising from the dancing ferns on the tree we crossed and gibbons dancing on the trees in front of us. 

The dance of the ferns can be seen at:

https://youtube.com/shorts/ecaCl5tMHW0?si=ZGLplXdAc5noaHlX

The frolicking gibbons are at:

https://youtube.com/shorts/bxIU6KWIqaM?si=Qs1uXJd4xhAlF-Nd

Our hearts are full of gratitude that we have been welcomed in ‘Wonderful Indonesia’, not only by its lovely and kind people but even by the land and nature. We are already looking forward to many more connections with these islands and the lovely beings that inhabit them.

                                                        *****

Quite An Incredible Rise

Reading “Not An Accidental Rise” by Dr. Dipmala Roka, chronicling the career of Harsh Vardhan Shringla, evokes in me a wish and a regret. I am articulating the wish early on and will keep the regret for the end. The wish is that that “Not An Accidental Rise’, were an autobiography and not a biography. Mr. Shringla has occupied a ringside view of Indian diplomacy for more than three and half decades and has much to tell all of us – curious as we are to know what happens in the diplomatic corridors of power and inside  negotiation rooms. The hope remains that as his workload lightens after demitting charge as Chief Coordinator of the the G-20 Summit, in the coming years, he will have the time and compelling reasons to pen his autobiography or books on diplomacy, just as many of his illustrious predecessors have done. In having a good harvest of books from its fold, the IFS have been very fortunate and we are optimistic that Mr. Shringla will continue the tradition.

‘Not An Accidental Rise’, captures vividly and in detail, the astounding career of one of India’s leading diplomats, who has witnessed and participated in India’s transformation, in the India story vis-à-vis its external relations like very few have. Every Indian diplomat will aspire to follow in his footsteps or be in his shoes, so remarkable has been his career, whether it were his foreign postings or the desks he worked on at headquarters.

Being a career diplomat myself, helped me relate to the narrative captured by Dr. Roka in a special way. Knowing the protagonist personally further provided me a vantage point. I have attempted an analysis of the principal character in the book from the perspective of commonalities and dissimilarities with my own trajectory. 

I will start with the dissimilarities first. School and college education was from India’s best institutions and the family had a clear idea that the son should join the IFS. Then a career in the Foreign Service with enviable responsibilities including Ambassadorial posts in Thailand, Bangladesh and the United States and culminating with the top job of being India’s Foreign Secretary for more than two years, without the need for an extension in service to guarantee a two year tenure. Occupying such critical positions in the MEA, one after the other, allowed Mr. Shringla to chisel outcomes and influence courses, which is seldom obtained by or possible for many others. In this, the book holds tremendous inspiration for young and mid-career diplomats, who have, at least to some extent, the power to shape their careers and the country’s diplomacy.

While the author refers in detail to the professional achievements of Mr. Shringla, the subtext and the recurrent theme is that of Mr. Shringla being an extremely humane, kind, friendly, affectionate and a team oriented officer. A friend describes him as a “Shahenshah of Friends’. Anyone who has worked or dealt with him has come away being impressed by him being so personable and caring to a fault. Added to this is his willingness and ability to meet almost anybody, irrespective of the social or professional status of the person. As long as the person and his message is genuine, Mr. Shringla is willing to indulge the person. While I was Consul General (CG) in New York, his staff officer would ask me whether Ambassador should meet a particular person or not. Oftentimes, in a bid to reduce Ambassador’s burden, I would say that there was no need as the CG is in touch with the person. To this the response from Ambassador always was -- if the CG can meet him, so can the Ambassador. Till today, a stream of visitors comes to Delhi from all the stations he has served in and meets with him. I know this for sure, as some of those who come from Bangladesh and New York also end up meeting me. These are qualities, with which most of us start our careers with, but they soon disappear in the sands of time and get replaced with arrogance and hubris. Refreshingly, Mr. Shringla has retained these qualities, as the book clearly brings out. 

 So many years later, I still carry memories of my first interaction with Mr. Shringla. It was on a trip to Mozambique, in 2009 along with Minister of State, Dr. Shashi Tharoor, to attend the swearing in ceremony of the new President. As Maputo did not have an Ambassador in place at that time, Ministry had asked Mr. Shringla to help with the visit. He was then between postings, from being CG in Durban to taking over charge as Joint Secretary (JS) in MEA. I had never met him before yet both of us worked closely for the success of the visit, as if we knew each other from before. A difficult visit, due to lack of local support, was pulled off with aplomb. I was taken in by his friendliness and team spirit.

Several years later, when he was JS responsible for Bangladesh, I had routine interaction with him as Deputy High Commissioner, Dhaka. Always accessible, his problem solving attitude made him very popular at the High Commission, High Commissioner and all IFS officers included. He went to great lengths to be always available and responsive to the needs of the Mission. Several path breaking initiatives were taken and concluded which transformed an essentially political relationship with our neighbour to an economic relationship, building on dependencies and connectivity.

During these interactions, another aspect of his came to my notice. That is his signature. I haven’t come across a sign like his, and I have always wondered, how he executed it to perfection, time after time. Perhaps it defines his personality, rounded yet in possession of many layers.

After working on the Bangladesh relationship, our paths crossed again, as Mr. Shringla took over Ambassador to Washington when I was CG, New York. India’s most important bilateral relationship and Mission with 5 Consulates General and a gigantic footprint in several domains benefited from his leadership. As the book correctly documents, Mr. Shringla hit the ground running. Soon after arrival, the Farmington University scandal - where students had been entrapped into enrolling in a non-existent university and then arrested for fraud tested his mettle. Ambassador Shringla took on the challenge on a war footing with a clear direction to the Team that the students were not at fault, they were the victims, and we had to do all that was possible to reach out to them, many in jails, and get them bail or sent to India. The power of video conferencing (VC) was then revealed to us. Almost every day we would have a VC and were required to give updates on the fate of the students -- how many had been met and for how many had we been able to arrange lawyers. This was accompanied by strong public diplomacy conveying that the Mission was at work and the students were being cared. The potentially damaging episode was deftly managed by the Ambassador leading from the front.

I distinctly remember, that given the demands and frequency of  VC, we all switched to acquiring modern devices, which stood us in good stead, later in the year for ‘Howdy Modi’ and then when scourge of Covid hit the US badly.

The Farmington University case and then ‘Howdy Modi’ revealed the inclusive approach of Mr. Shringla, well alluded to in the book. While organising ‘Howdy Modi’ at Houston, we quickly fathomed that it had to be a nation-wide effort involving close coordination with community organizations. When it was learnt that President Trump was to also join the event, our task requirements changed from getting maximum community participation to also obtain attendance by US dignitaries. The event was a mega logistical and security challenge, which was pulled off primarily due to meticulous planning and attention given to detail by Mr. Shringla, proven by the participation of a large number of US dignitaries travelling long distances to be part of history.

          Being located at an outpost i.e. New York and not at the Embassy in Washington, I was not privy to the many other elements of Mr. Shringla’s Ambassadorship, but from his occasional trips to my jurisdiction, I became acutely aware that his trips had to well planned with every available minute packed with interactions and meetings with a cross-section of opinion, from the Diaspora to the Media to Senators and Congressmen, and the New York region had many. Such extensive outreach came useful later in the year in 2019 when the task of building public and congressional opinion in favour of abrogation of Article 370 and the Citizenship Amendment Act became an important task for India’s diplomatic representation in the US and was achieved with success.

The Author refers to particular incidents of preventing anti-Indian elements from laying siege to our Embassy and Consulates. As part of Team India in the US, I can vividly recall the instructions from Ambassador. He was very clear that we could not cede ground to the secessionists and here again our approach, coordinated across the entire geography, did achieve the desired results.  

Audacity grips me while I bring to light some convergences and commonalities. I too, got double promotion in school ( but did not have such an exemplary academic record), took coaching at Rau’s Study Circle and like Mr. Shringla worked on our relations with Bangladesh and the US. However, unlike him, my becoming a diplomat was entirely due to accidents of circumstances, and perhaps my career progression continues to be so. While I was ending my tenure in New York, he asked me to come back to headquarters to take over as JS in charge of the t Europe West (EW) Division, where many years ago he had also worked. I found in him deep understanding of the demands of the EW Division and he stood like a rock behind me, supporting the work of the Division.

The Author documents well the inspiring career of Mr. Shringla and charts every phase of his education and professional life, starting from attending Mayo School to being Foreign Secretary of India. The book would have been a better read with the weaving in of personal anecdotes and glimpses and tales from Mr. Shringla’s interactions and tete-a-tete with foreign interlocutors. Tighter editing will make the story more crisp and gripping. Here I mention my regret. The author had approached me for an interview which sadly couldn’t materialize due to conflict of schedules.

There is a lot more in the life and times of Harsh Vardhan Shringla.  This book is just an hors d’oeuvre; the main course and the dessert along with the accompanying rich bodied French burgundy is yet to be served. As the well know advert proclaimed – “Yeh Dil Maange More”.

 

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Stealing From Our Grandchildren

                                 

                            Stealing From Our Grandchildren

The Oscar winning documentary, ‘Elephant Whisperer’ is a heart warming account of love between humans and animals in the resplendence of the natural beauty of Mudumalai National Park. The viewer marvels at Nature’s creation, the human ability to love, and reciprocation from an animal. However, love amongst animals or with animals lacks intergenerationality. The offspring of Raghoo, the elephant, will not carry forward the relationship that existed with his caregivers – Bomman and Bellie. Amongst the characteristics that distinguishes humans from animals are speech, language, consciousness, tool use, art, music, material culture, commerce, agriculture, non‑reproductive sex and mental time travel. 

We can think about our past, contemplate our present and visualise our future. Clairvoyants even claim to perceive future events beyond the range of sensory contact. While many animals have intelligence and  display behaviours that we’d consider as human, as evident in Raghoo, the range is limited. The supreme manifestation of advanced consciousness and mental ability make humans the only species on the planet that can care and think for not only their children but also their grandchildren and beyond. In the animal world we find pairings for life and and either the male or the female parent taking care of their progeny, but caring for the progeny’s progeny is not observed. This is a distinguishing feature which bestows on humans an enormous burden of responsibilities which no other species on earth has to carry. 

In our epics we find several generations co-existing. The oldest participant of the Mahabharata War was Shantanu’s elder brother Bahlika, representing the first generation, while Ashwatthama, son of Dronacharya, was a sixth generation participant. Even in present times, with life expectancy extended by medical science we find in a family the great-grandfather along with the great grandchild. As this becomes a prevalent phenomenon, in our own lifetimes, we have to face the prospect of answering to not only our children or grandchildren but even to those who come after them. 

When medical science and Nature has given us this blessing of long life and the ability to love several generations of our progeny, it is our solemn and sacred duty to ensure that the world we leave behind is livable for our successive generations. Earth Overshoot Day (EOD) marks the date when humanity has used all the biological resources that Earth regenerates during the entire year. In 2022, EOD was on July 28. For the rest of 2022, we maintained ecological deficit by drawing down local resource stocks and accumulating carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Every year we are running a deficit which is subject to the viciousness of negative compounding. In 2023, the EOD is likely to be sooner, as humanity’s performance has steadily declined since 1971, when it was estimated that the draw down of Earth’s resources could be replenished in a year. 

When we are overshooting, we are taking a loan that we can not only never repay but will make our children sink under the debt burden. We will not leave behind clean air, water, soil and food for them to thrive. The recklessness with which we are destroying the planet will leave no elephant for our children to whisper to. The imperative is to undertake climate action at mega-scale. Lifestyle for Environment (LiFE) is not a mantra but a toolkit for survival of the human race. We have to push back the EOD from July to December, every year, or our own children will accuse us of theft. Rabindranath Tagore said “every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged by man”. The present generations have to leave behind such an Earth that the child is not discouraged by man.

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No Photo Please

    

    The chiseled face of Richard Emblin floats in from somewhere in my mind as the annual circular from the External Publicity Division of the Ministry on inviting foreign journalists lands on my desk. Richard Emblin, a Canadian, is a professional photographer. For many years he has lived in Colombia and was the photo editor of Colombia’s leading national daily, “El Tiempo” (The Time). We got to know Richard and his wife Maria Claudia, (we all called her MC), rather well during our stay in Bogota from 2002 to 2005. These days he and MC run Colombia’s only English language newspaper, The City Paper.

    In those days, when militancy and terrorism were at their peak, there wasn't much one could do in their free time. Even clubs were not safe and I recollect with horror the bombing of club ‘El Nogal’, the shock waves of which we could feel at our home, miles away. So we just hung around with friends and we did hang around a lot with Richard and MC. Partly due to our friendship I was able to convince Richard to go to India on the familiarization programme for foreign journalists and report from the ground.

 

    Richard was in India for about two weeks and his paper published several stories and photographs with his byline. Once he was back in Bogota, Richard invited us for dinner home. For dinner we had Ajiaco, the unique  Colombian potato and chicken stew. It is  made of 3 types of potatoes, papas criollas, papas pastusas and papas sabaneras (these varieties of potatoes are found only in Colombia), corn and the Colombian herb guascas (Galinsoga parviflora) which  renders an indescribable aromatic flavour to the stew. It is served with slices of avocado, capers and cream. Many claim that Ajiaco is the national dish of Colombia. Once we went to Palacio de Nariño, the Presidential Palace, for lunch with President Andres Pastrana. Ajiaco was the main course.  

 

    After the hearty meal, Richard asked us to move into his study for a slideshow. He seemed uncharacteristically perked up and excited. I asked him what it was all about? He had arranged a special slideshow for us. Those days, in the early 2000s, before the dawn of digital photography, slides were the only way one could project photographs on a screen. Each roll of slides had 36 frames. Richard would show us pictures he had shot in Karnataka. 

 

    He dimmed the lights, and switched on the projector. All  four of us sat comfortably in couches in the book lined study with mugs of Juan Valdez coffee. Richard had the remote in his hand and the projector started rolling. Enchanting stone art of the glorious Hoysala temples of Belur and Halibed went up on the screen. Each frame  was striking. From the temples, Richard moved to the coast and there were slides of the mesmerizing Karwar coast among others. One by one we reached slide number 25. Then we moved to slide number 27. 27? What about slide number 26? There was no slide number 26. I turned to Richard and asked him why, what happened? Richard sought patience. He got up and turned on the lights and told us his story.

 

    While returning from Mangalore to Bangalore, Richard and his companion from the Foreign Office were crossing the temple town of Udupi, famous worldwide for its cuisine. Richard’s companion asked him if he would mind stopping at Udupi for a while. The town of Udupi was home to many mutts (monasteries) and he was a devotee of a particular monk who was much revered. Richard’s companion proposed that they go and seek the monk’s  blessings. Richard happily agreed. 

 

    Richard found the monk charismatic yet serene. He was rather enthralled in his presence. The monk blessed them and as Richard was leaving, it occurred to him to take a photograph of the monk. Richard requested permission to take a photo. Surprisingly for Richard, the monk declined. He responded on the lines that as he was a monk, a holy man in spiritual pursuits, holy men don’t like being photographed. He further added that he always avoided being photographed as somehow his photos never worked out. Richard was unrelenting and insistent.  He said he had come all the way from Colombia and was a professional photographer. He even claimed that he almost never got it wrong. Richard even promised to send the monk a copy. The monk said that if Richard was able to capture him on film, he would be happy to receive a copy of his photo. After taking the monk’s photo, Richard left for Bangalore. There were no other photo opportunities in Udupi.

 

    From Bangalore, they went to Shravanabelagola, 144 kms from Bangalore. There is the imposing 57 feet tall monolithic statue of Bahubali Gommateshwara on the top of the  3347 feet Vindhyagiri hill. The statue of Bahubali, sculpted in 983 AD during the Ganga dynasty, is the world's tallest monolithic stone statue carved out of a single granite block. One needs to climb about seven hundred steps to be able to see the statue from near. As Richard was climbing the steps, he found a group of disciples carrying a holy man on a stretcher up the hill. Richard found the image fascinating and couldn’t resist taking a picture. That was slide number 27. 

 

    As MC got us refills of the world’s richest coffee, Richard continued with his narration. The missing slide number 26 was the photo he had taken of the Udupi  monk. He couldn’t figure out what happened to the slide, after he developed the roll. Each and every slide of the roll was there except the slide which had captured the photo of the holy man. Such a thing had never happened in his professional career- as if someone had neatly incised a slide, leaving no trace at all. 

 

    Richard then dimmed the lights again and asked us to look carefully at slide number 27. It was the slide of the holy man on a stretcher being carried up the hill of Shravanabelagola by his disciples. The photograph was crystal clear, every detail was visible. One could see the holy man in saffron robes on the stretcher and the top of the shoulders of the disciples. Richard asked us to look at his face. There was just an outline and a white patch. There was no face.

 

P.S: Date 4 Nov. 2024

Dr. Bibek Debroy passed away on 1 Nov. 2024. Affected by his demise, I looked up the whatsapp messages that I had exchanged with him in the past. One pertained to 18 March 2022, when I shared this blog with him. I asked him: "Sir did you read this?" He replied: "I did. But thought best not to RT." Then he continued: "Something similar once happened to us. Will tell you when we meet. The reverse actually. A naked sadhu appeared in front of a picture of the Heliodrus column in Vidisha. Wasn't there when we took the picture."

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