Shevlin Sebastian's Blog, page 102
September 28, 2015
Looking Bright and Gleaming


By Shevlin Sebastian
Photos: Samson Pallivathukal and his wife, Miriam Artzi; the inside of the synagogue. Pics by Ratheesh Sundaram
On a sunny August morning, a smile breaks out on the face of Samson Pallivathukal, 68, as he approaches the gleaming-white Paravur synagogue, with his wife Miriam Artzi. “Look, how nice it looks,” says Samson, who left Paravur for Israel in 1973, but is back for a visit. “There was a time when everything was broken and weeds grew all over the place.”
Yes, but all that changed when, in 2009, the Kerala government's archaeology department took possession of the synagogue, which is 32 kms from Kochi, and placed it as part of the Muziris Heritage Project. The restoration work was entrusted to conservation architect Benny Kuriakose and his team.
And today, everything is spick and span. From the entrance, Samson leads the way through tiled pathways and doors to the prayer hall at the back. Samson looks at the receptacle or the Ark, placed against a wall, and says, “The Torah, which used to be placed inside the ark, as well as the ark, have been taken to Israel in 1995,” says Samson.
Today, the ark is an exhibit at the Jerusalem Museum. To recreate it, Benny sent an e-mail to the museum authorities. They sent four high-resolution photos. “Based on that, a colleague of mine, Clerine Patteri, worked painstakingly for three months to recreate the ark,” says Benny. Apart from that, the floors, steps, ceilings, roof and the Bema, which is the platform from where the Torah is read, have been restored to their original best.
What is unusual about the 900-year-old Paravur synagogue is that there is a separate set of steps which leads to the first floor. This was where the women prayed, while the men remained in the ground floor.
“On the Sabbath, one prayer was conducted on the ground floor,” says Samson's wife, Artzi. “The other one was said on the balcony so that the women can hear it.” The priest took a flight of steps, at one corner of the hall.
Another unusual feature is the large open courtyard in front of the synagogue. “This is an unique feature of Kerala synagogues,” says Samson. “There were also numerous lamps and chandeliers, which cost lakhs of rupees.”
Unfortunately, all the chandeliers and lamps have gone missing. “The building had been abandoned,” says Benny. “The doors and windows were broken. A thief came one night and took away all the chandeliers. But we have plans to restore all of them.”
Till that happens, when you look upwards, all you can see are the metal hooks on the wooden ceiling which were used to hold the chandeliers. But all around, on the walls, there are plaques which detail the history of the Jews in Kerala, as well as touchscreens which tell the story of the synagogue. So far, Rs 2 crore has been spent for the conservation works.
Meanwhile, what holds pride of place, near the entrance, is a replica of the copper plate, listing privileges, which was given by the King of Cochin, Bhaskara Ravi Varma, to the Jewish leader Joseph Rabban in 1000 AD. “Yes, the King welcomed us,” says Artzi, with a wide smile. “Many Jews were escaping persecution in places like Persia. And Kerala was one of the few places on earth which welcomed the Jews.”
Overall, there is an innate charm to the synagogue. Tourist Aleesha Matara feels peaceful and serene. “This is a beautiful space, and represents the rich inter-religious nature of Kerala's society,” says Aleesha. Adds Innat, an Indian-origin Jew, who lives in Israel: “To see the synagogue where my father and grandfather prayed is very exciting.”
Today, there are only two Jews living in North Paravur. All the rest have left. There are no prayers being conducted in the synagogue, because, according to Jewish custom, you need a minimum of ten Jews to conduct the service. “Once upon a time, there were more than a thousand Jews in Paravur,” says Samson, with a sad smile.
(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)
Published on September 28, 2015 21:55
September 27, 2015
A Native Touch



By Shevlin Sebastian
Photos: The large mural behind the altar; Fr. Alex Gnanapragasam, the treasurer of the Jnana Deepa Vidyapeeth; Mother Mary in a Maharastrian saree
Near the entrance of the post-graduate block of the Jnana-Deepa Vidyapeeth, a Christian Institute for Philosophy and Religions, at Pune, a surprise awaits the visitor. There is a statue of Mother Mary holding the Baby Jesus, but with a difference. She is draped in a sky-blue Indian saree, with a gold border.
“This is a Maharastrian saree,” says Fr. Alex Gnanapragasam, the treasurer of the Vidyapeeth, which is run by the Society of Jesus. There is another innovation: Mary is standing on an open lotus. “The lotus is India’s national flower,” says Fr. Alex. “We wanted to combine the elements of Christianity and Hinduism, so that God can be better understood through one’s culture.”
Another statue, in the chapel, is of Mary wearing a Bengali-style pastel saree.
However, inside the chapel, what catches the eye is the large mural behind the altar. “Jesus is shown in the traditional Lasya dance of creation,” says Fr. (Prof) Dr. Noel Sheth, a Sanskrit scholar as well an Indologist, who is well-versed in several Indian religions. “The right hand is shown in the vyakhana mudra, the sign of teaching. And the left hand is in the dana mudra – the gesture of giving grace. The two ears of wheat at the bottom of the pipal (sacred fig) tree represent the Bread of Life and the Word of God.”
The other elements include green vegetation which indicates the earth; above it are waves of water. The light blue currents refer to the invisible air. “The red flames represent the fire,” says Fr. Alex. “The circular yellow patch above the tip of the leaf points to ether, which cannot be seen or touched or felt.”
Jesus is shown leaning against a pipal leaf. The pipal tree has always been known as a place where one goes to meditate. “In fact, Buddha achieved enlightenment while meditating under a pipal tree,” says Fr. Sheth. “This tree is sacred for Hindus as well as Buddhists.” Interestingly, the person who made the mural is a Kolkata-based Hindu by the name of Subrata Ganguly who runs a firm called Church Art. “Art has no religion,” he says. “I have been involved with the work inside churches for the past 25 years.”
For the Vidyapeeth mural, it was his mother Gita Ganguly who drew the initial designs. “She is well versed in all religions,” says Ganguly.
The mural, which is 8 feet in height and 16 feet in width, is made of coloured ceramic chips. It was originally made in the firm's workshop in Kolkata and then transported in smaller parts by train to Pune. Thereafter, it was reassembled and mounted.
“I have done similar work in other places,” says Ganguly. “At a seminary, at Barapani, near Shillong, Meghalaya, there is a mural of Jesus standing under a pine tree surrounded by people in Khasi and Garo headgear. Jesus is also portrayed as a Bhil tribal. We did this after an extensive research on the Bhils.”
In a church, at Ambapara, Rajasthan, there are scenes from the Bible on stained glass on the windows in the style of Indian art. “At the St. Xavier's College guesthouse chapel in Kolkata, Jesus is portrayed in a sitting position reminiscent of the Lord Buddha,” says Ganguly.
For the past several years, an Indianisation of the church is taking place. “The Catholic Church, during the Second Vatican Council in 1962, stated that more importance should be given to inculturation,” says Fr. Alex. “In other words, in Africa, there should be an African-looking Jesus, in America, an American-looking Jesus and an Indian-looking Jesus in India.”
In fact, the the original name of the Jnana Deepa Vidyapeeth was the Pontifical Athenaeum. “We changed it in 1972,” says Fr. Alex.
Meanwhile, the reaction to the Pune images has been positive. “Everybody, whether it be lay people, priests or nuns have expressed their appreciation,” says Fr. Alex. “There is a desire among some of the faithful to Indianise the religion. But this is taking place more in rural areas, than in the well-established older churches in the cities.”
(Sunday Magazine, New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)
Published on September 27, 2015 22:14
September 21, 2015
"95 per cent of Indians suffer from sexual problems"

By Shevlin Sebastian
Photo by Ratheesh Sundaram
Rohinton Farzad, 46, and his wife Donya, 42, were in anguish. For 22 years, their marriage had not been consummated. Because of this, Rohinton was suffering from anxiety and depression, while Donya felt frustrated that she could not have children. The upper middle-class Parsi couple consulted many doctors, psychiatrists and psychologists. Finally, they were referred to the Mumbai-based sexologist Dr. Prakash Kothari.
Kothari was not surprised. “Two out of ten people do not know how to perform in bed,” he says. “That shows how poor sex education is in the country.”
After talking at length with the couple, he showed them a miniature plastic model of a couple making love. To his surprise, Kothari realised that Rohinton was straddling the hips of his wife. So Kothari showed him the right way. That night, the couple took a room in a five-star hotel, and followed Kothari's advice. It turned out to be good news.
Then Donya told Kothari that she wanted children. So Kothari explained to her about the monthly menstrual cycle, and suggested that the couple should try during the second and third weeks. “Amazingly, at such a late age, Donya became pregnant,” says Kothari. “She gave birth to twin boys!”
And every Diwali, for the past few years, the family goes to Kothari's house, with a box of sweets, and greets him. “I feel so happy when I see their joy,” says Kothari.
Kothari is one of the leading sexologists in India. And after four decades, he says that things are changing. “In the beginning, I did not see any female patients,” says Kothari. “Even when I opened the world's first outpatient department for sex at KEM Hospital, very few women would come. But today the pattern has changed.”
A young woman will call up and say, “Doctor, all my friends are enjoying sex, but I am not. Am I abnormal?” Or a lady will say, “Doc, you had better treat my husband. He is not performing well. Otherwise, I will walk out of the marriage.”
The most common problem for men is erectile dysfunction. “A man should realise failures are common, but that does not mean it is the end,” says Kothari. "As a result, they move from effective sexual performance, to varying degrees of impotence, because of one failure.”
To these traumatised people, Kothari gives the example of cricket legend Sachin Tendulkar. “He scores a century in the first innings, then gets bowled out for zero in the second innings,” he says. “Does that mean Sachin cannot score a century in the next innings? He can. So I always emphasise the fact that failures are common but that does not mean an end to the sex life.”
Indeed, for some, there is no end, whatsoever. Kothari's oldest patient is a 90-year-old man. “He wanted to improve his performance,” says a smiling Kothari. “Since he had a testosterone deficiency, I gave him an injection.” Incidentally, this deficiency can be overcome by a diet which is rich in black gram and fenugreek seeds.
Kothari says, “Sex has no expiry date. It is disuse which leads to atrophy, and not the use.”
Interestingly, women, especially menopausal ones, also have problems. “Most women tell themselves that they have a reproductive, rather than a sexual desire,” says Kothari. “She will tell herself, 'I want a child, so I am indulging in sex'. But after menopause, this defense is no longer available. She cannot ask for sex, but wants it very much. So she gets worried, but feels shy to articulate her feelings.”
Sometimes, sex can be painful for a woman. However, there could be a physical reason: a deficiency of estrogen. So, Kothari recommends a diet, which is rich in soya bean, tofu, green vegetables and pulses.
Meanwhile, when asked for tips for an improved performance, Kothari says, “The four-letter word is TALK,” he says. “Communication is very important. You should find out the likes and dislikes of your partner. You must devote time for foreplay. There are plenty of erogenous zones in the body. The skin is the largest sensual organ. So touch is very important. If you kiss somebody, it is touch. If you shake hands, it is touch. If you console somebody, it is touch. And touch releases a hormone called oxytocin. This is a love hormone. It creates a sense of togetherness.”
Unfortunately, togetherness is declining. Rising incomes, the mobile and the Internet has led to a rise in pre and extra-marital affairs. “A flower in someone else's garden looks more attractive, especially when you ignore your own,” says Kothari. “But I would advise people to cultivate their own garden. The four pillars of a good marriage are honesty, affection, trust and love. An affair damages the marriage, when it comes to light.”
Incidentally, Kothari had come to Kochi to inaugurate a conference on sexology. He is frank enough to say that he has a lot of Malayali patients, from Kerala, as well as the Middle East. But after seeing more than 60,000 patients in a 45-year career, he admits that around 95 per cent of the people suffer from sexual problems. “But it can all be worked out and solutions can be found,” says Kothari.
(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)
Published on September 21, 2015 23:42
September 20, 2015
Providing Solace for Society's Wounded


Photos: Physical Educator Vijaya Suresh helps a mentally-challenged youngster, Antony, to throw a ball; a young girl. Photos by Ratheesh Sundaram
By Shevlin Sebastian
On a sunny morning, Physical Educator Vijaya Suresh helps a mentally-challenged youngster, Antony, to throw a basketball. After a few tries, Antony is able to put the ball through the hoop. Just behind them, at West Veliyathunad, near Aluva, there is a large open-air auditorium, with an asbestos roof, where children are sitting around small tables. Some are drawing, with crayons, while others are playing a game with plastic cups. A small girl is writing numbers from one to 10.
One who looks physically imposing is the 34-year-old Reshma. “She weighs 110 kgs,” says VA Mohammed Iqbal, the Vice Chairman of the Welfare Association Trust (WAT). Inside a physical therapy room, 11-year-old Jishnu is walking slowly holding on to two parallel bars. “He suffers from muscular weakness,” says Iqbal. “We do a lot of need-based therapy.”
Next to him, in a wheelchair, is a paralysed youth, Rahul Rajan, 19. His mother, Salila, who is pushing the wheelchair, is employed as a nurse. “Since I work here, it makes it easier to look after my son,” says Salila, who has two healthy college-going sons. “It was complications during my pregnancy that resulted in Rahul being mentally and physically challenged.”
In another room, a group of students are making soaps, paper packets, napkins and phenol. These are packed and put on sale in the office. The staff also buy it.
In the women’s dormitory, there are abandoned wives, as well as old women whose children no longer want to look after them. The 80-year old Subaida Kanjiramattam says that she has a daughter in Munnar, but she never comes to meet her.
There was a girl, Naseema, who roamed around the streets and ate from the garbage in Erattupetta. Somebody brought her to the home. Her teeth were in decay, and her hair was dirty. “Now she is okay,” says Iqbal. “Her relatives come to see her now and then. If there are family functions, they come and take her.”
A few years ago, there was also a mentally challenged woman who had come from Karnataka. She got down from the bus at Aluva and hurt herself. The locals took her to the hospital. “After treatment, the doctors referred her to us,” says Iqbal. “She stayed at the home for a long while, before she died."
The WAT has been running a special school, an old age home for men and women, as well as a welfare village, nearby. “There is an area of 78 cents where we have built 14 houses,” says President Habeebullah. “Poor people are allowed to stay there, but the ownership remains with the Association.”
In another area, of one and a half acres, the WAT is giving three cents to each family but they will have to build their own houses. “Around 35 families will benefit,” says Habeebullah. “The preference is for those who are widows, or if the bread winner is paralysed, or if there are more girls in the family.”
To provide help, the WAT encourages people to send in applications. Thereafter, committee members form a group and go and meet each family. “We want to ensure that each case is genuine,” says Habeebullah.
Sometimes, they come across people who are in a precarious situation. Once, Iqbal went inside a house, near a canal, where during the monsoon season the water would gush into the house. “Inside, a man was lying paralysed on the bed, while his wife was blind,” he says. “They had a 14-year-old daughter and had no source of income. So we arranged to provide a monthly stipend so that they could meet their basic expenses.”
In another case, they saw that a mentally challenged boy was tied to the bed in chains. “When we enquired, the parents, who are labourers, said that they both needed to work, to make ends meet,” says Iqbal. “They did not have the money to get somebody to look after the child. Hence, they were forced to tie the boy up.”
Incidentally, it was a former Deputy Inspector General of Police, PK Mohammed Hassan who donated his family house as well as his property of two acres to the WAT. “Today, the house has become an old people's home,” says Habeebullah. “And Hassan's son, Dr. Mansoor is the chairman of the association.”
The Association depends on donations from people in Kerala and from Malayalis in the Middle East. “There is also the zakat and zadaqah tax,” says executive committee member Asif Komu. “All Muslims have to set aside 2 ½ per cent of their salary for charity.”
Asked the philosophical reason why these tragedies occur, Iqbal shrugs his shoulders, and says, “Sometimes, a mother suffers an illness during pregnancy, or there is a genetic disorder. We don't know how it happens. Even science cannot explain it. As to why the particular person or family has to go through this suffering, it is a mystery. Only God can give an answer. What we can do is to provide solace and comfort.”
(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)
Published on September 20, 2015 22:14
September 15, 2015
A Man Of Many Talents



On a recent visit to Kochi, Prasoon Joshi talks about straddling advertising and Bollywood, his encounters with Sachin Tendulkar, and his tips for youngsters
Photos by Ratheesh Sundaram: Prasoon Joshi at the Le Meridien, Kochi; in conversation with Sachin Tendulkar at the event at Kochi; with the writer
By Shevlin Sebastian
“Whenever I meet Sachin, I always learn something,” says Prasoon. “One reason is because he has his feet firmly on the ground. And he truthfully answers the questions. Unlike many stars he never ducks difficult queries. He has the courage to be himself.”
Prasoon also had the courage to be himself. When he was growing up in Almora, Uttarkhand, he had an interest in writing poems and short stories. However, being from a middle-class family, once he finished his studies (M Sc. And MBA), he searched for a salaried job. “I knew that poetry would not fill my stomach,” he says. “But I always believed that we should do things that we are good at. Since I enjoyed writing, and realised that in advertising people would pay me money for ideas, I joined the industry.”
While he was working in advertising, Prasoon met film people who asked him whether he could write lyrics or scripts. “All this happened by accident and then I embraced it,” he says.
And this embrace has made him a success in both. Prasoon is Chairman, Asia Pacific, of the McCann World Group, as well as CEO and Chief Creative Officer of the India office. And he has made several memorable ads including the ‘Thanda Matlab' Coca Cola campaign. “That line is still alive in the minds of people,” says Prasoon.
In his lyric-writing career, he has penned the songs for films like 'Fanaa', 'Rang De Basanti', 'Taare Zameen Par', and the iconic 'Baag Milkha Baag', for which he wrote the story, screenplay and dialogues. Prasoon has won National Awards for his lyric writing as well as a Padma Shri for Field Art in 2015. And in 2014, Prasoon became the first Asian to be the Chairman of the Cannes Titanium Jury.
As a result, he is a keen judge of national and international advertising talent. “We don't have any dearth of talent, but advertising is a Western concept,” says Prasoon. “We did not have a culture of branding. We are strong in spirituality. We have invested in the mind, and in trying to understand the meaning of life. Buddha was not built up as a brand. We believe in the organic development of things. We did not believe something has to be masterminded or controlled. It is a Western phenomenon.”
Nevertheless, being at the helm of the advertising industry has given Prasoon a keen insight about the trends these days. “We live in a distracted world,” says Prasoon. “People are spoilt for choices. They can go out and eat, or go to YouTube and watch something or see TV. Meanwhile, everybody wants their attention. So, it has become a huge challenge for advertising to hold the attention of the consumer.”
It is also a challenge for Prasoon to straddle both the advertising and film writing worlds. But he says that they are similar. “Both have ideas at the core,” he says. “Ads are short stories, too. However, the time you get in advertising is far less than what you get in a film. You have to be on air in two months. And it is also short-lived.”
On the other hand, for the script of 'Baag', Prasoon took two years to write it. “I had to do a lot of research,” he says. “Plus, I had limited time every day to write.”
When asked about his insights into Bollywood, Prasoon says that many superstars have a difficult time to stay connected to reality. “When they see themselves in the mirror they know that they have two eyes, a nose, lips and a mouth,” he says. “But when they step out in public, people come flocking towards them. So they think, 'There must be something unusual about me. Am I God? Maybe I am God?'.”
Prasoon has seen many people, like that. “If you disagree with them, they will say, 'What I am saying is right'. If you say, 'Why is it right?” they will reply, 'Because I am saying it'. People forget their roots. They forget they are mortals. They believe that they are the centre of the universe. When that happens, their relationship with people gets damaged. And they end up becoming a caricature of themselves.”
Prasoon’s conversation is peppered with insights like this. And his tips to youngsters who are setting out are also unique. “Be authentic,” he says. “Be what you are. You are unparalleled. You cannot model yourself on anybody. You have to find your true self, but to discover that you will have to go through a state of confusion. Confusion is the first step to clarity. Don’t be scared of it.”
And here's another tip: “It is very important to hone your talent. Because when the opportunity comes, there is no time to practise. You have to do your riyaz earlier. In one of Iqbal’s poems, he talks about a falcon which catches a prey, takes it up, and then drops it. Why does the falcon do that? That is a way of practising. So, when it becomes hungry, it does not make a mistake. Similarly, you have to be ready when the chance arrives.”
(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)
Published on September 15, 2015 01:41
September 13, 2015
Everything Yummy About It

By Shevlin Sebastian
Photo by Ratheesh Sundaram
And that is how Nandini began providing meals to Brody, a chairman of an IT company. Her USP is simple: she provides home-made food made by ordinary housewives who have a passion for cooking.
So far, she has a menu of 120 dishes. One of the popular items is a Konkani sweet dish called the Jambul. “It is made of semolina,” says Nandini. “This is cooked in a mixture of milk, water and sugar. Following that, it is ghee-fried. Then it is coated in sugar syrup, with sprinklings of cardamom.”
One day, while reading an article about a Bangalore-based entrepreneur, who started a business in homemade food, by collecting extra food from housewives, it struck Nandini that she could tweak the idea and provide a menu-based home-cooked food in Kochi.
(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)
Published on September 13, 2015 21:35
September 7, 2015
Alone and Together

Published on September 07, 2015 21:34
September 5, 2015
Trying to heal body and soul


Photo by Ratheesh Sundaram
By Shevlin Sebastian
During the August 15 Independence Day celebrations at the St. Joseph's College, at Bangalore, dance therapist Andrea Rios, from Spain, was having an enjoyable time with a group of girls. She took photos, played games, watched a cultural programme and laughed a lot. “Thereafter, we had lunch together,” she says. Suddenly, in the midst of all the fun, Preethi (name changed), an eighteen-year-old girl came up to Andrea, and whispered, “Please take me with you to your country.”
Andrea was shaken and upset. “Preethi saw how free I was,” says Andrea. “She felt that she could enjoy the same kind of freedom in Spain. In India, society has boxed Preethi in. She is unable to express her personality.”
This is more so, because Preethi is a victim of sexual abuse. Through the NGO, Street Heroes of India (SOI), Andrea had come to Bangalore to impart dance therapy to these troubled girls, who ranged in age from 13 to 19.
Says Olga Martin, the founder of SOI: “Sexual violence often occurs in secrecy, which increases the victim’s sense of helplessness. The attacks on children's bodies can leave them with physical scars, but, more often, with psychological ones. They feel a sense of fear, shame, and self-blame. It can create a separation of the mind and body.”
But in dance therapy, girls are encouraged to get in touch with their bodies by making spontaneous movements. “It is not necessary for the patient to imitate the trainer,” says Andrea. “They can do whatever they want, as long as they can express themselves.”
When girls are hesitant, Andrea uses dance styles like contemporary or the Brazilian zouk. “Zouk is a dance which you do with a partner,” she says. “There is a contact with the body, mind and spirit of the other person. In contemporary, you can connect with the essence within yourself. The objective is to unite the person's mind and body.”
While this is going on, Andrea does a bit of psycho-analysis. “By studying the movements, the use of space, breathing, and body configuration, I can get an idea of the past history of the girl,” she says.
Here is one past history: Sunita was about to get married off. But at the last moment, the boy called it off. The parents got very angry with their daughter. They felt she was at fault. So they abandoned her. “Suddenly, Sunita had no husband or family,” says Andrea. “She did not want to speak about it, but expressed her anger through a drawing. She drew a heart and filled it with angry images.”
When asked to compare the troubled girls in Valencia and Bangalore, Andrea says, “In Spain, when girls are abused, they are able to go to the police, who will treat them sympathetically, or take the help of teachers and their families.”
However, in India, if a girl says she has been abused, the reaction is different. “It is like as if it is her fault,” says Andrea. “The attitude is, 'One more girl, nothing new.' There is a lack of seriousness and concern. Society tends to blame the girl and condemn her. She carries a sense of culpability throughout her life.”
Not surprisingly, rehabilitation takes time. “It varies from individual to individual, the type of trauma, the age of the person, and how intensely the patients have participated in healing activities,” says Andrea. “There are some girls who are able to express their feelings through words after doing a session of dance therapy. But this does not happen to everybody.” After the Bangalore stint, Andrea came to Kochi and conducted a two-day workshop for social workers, nuns, teachers and counsellors.
Thus far, it has been a learning experience for Andrea. And it happened rather accidentally. One day, the idea occurred to her to do psycho-social projects in different areas of the world. “I wanted to understand hows the mind works in various countries,” she says. So Andrea searched the Internet and came across SOI. She got in touch with Olga, who asked for Andrea's resume, and enquired about her interest in India.
Eventually, Andrea passed Olga's scrutiny. “It has been so wonderful to be in India,” says Andrea, who is a well-studied professional. Apart from a degree in clinical psychology from the University of Valencia, Andrea has got a masters in the behaviour of children and teenagers, a masters in emotional intelligence and expressive arts, another one on sexuality and sexual education, and a fourth one on dance from the professional conservatory in Valencia. Today, Andrea is working in a private centre of mental health at Valencia. And she is only 24 years old.
“Please don't call me a superwoman,” she says, with a laugh.
(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)
Published on September 05, 2015 04:10
September 1, 2015
Second Sight


Photos by Ratheesh Sundaram
By Shevlin Sebastian
“When I say I am partially blind, people will say, ‘Partially blind? Why?’ We Indians are so competitive that they think I have failed in being blind,” says Sundeep Rao, a partially-blind stand-up comedian. “They will say, ‘Idiot, you are partially blind? Why can’t you be fully blind?’”
As the audience at the JT Pac, Kochi, breaks into laughter, Sundeep slides easily into the next joke: “Women always blame men for not understanding them,” says Sundeep. “But women have multiple people living inside them. A woman can be a student, she has a maternal side, she is a best friend, she is a sister, she is a daughter. But a man has only two sides. He is man and horny. That’s the bandwidth.”
Sundeep is a natural on stage. What helps are his poise, confidence and a deep bass voice. He was only eight years old when he was diagnosed with juvenile macular degeneration. What this meant was that he lost the central vision in both eyes. “I was too young to realise what had happened, so I took it in my stride,” says Sundeep. “Although, unlike other children, I could not play cricket or other sports. As I grew up, I began to use comedy as a defence mechanism to deal with the issue.”
At age 18, he went to study economics and international relations at the University of Wales in Swansea. Thereafter, he did a degree in sociology and political science from Linfield College in Oregon, USA.
He returned to his hometown of Bangalore and was working in the IT industry. But the job left his dissatisfied. In October, 2009, he took part in an Open Mic competition held by stand-up comedian Vir Das.
“I did not get a good reaction from the first joke, but, over time, I began to feel more comfortable on stage,” says Sundeep. “But it was only in 2012 that I began to address the issue of my not being able to see. The first couple of times, the audience did not believe me. I did not have the blind man's glasses, cane or dog. They wondered whether I was serious or making fun of blind people. But once I started exploring my disability, I became very natural on and off stage. It gave me the strength to live my life.”
He says that there is a difference between him and the full-sighted comedians. “What I can see, they can't, and what they can see, I can't,” he says. “For example, when they look at a traffic junction, they can look at the finer details, like the number plate of the cars, who is wearing what, what does he or she look like? However, I am seeing it on a much larger scale. I am looking at a collection of cars. I might not see as much detail, but I am able to see a lot more.”
And this ‘seeing more’ has made him a popular stand-up comedian. Thus far, Sundeep has done 2000 shows in places like Hyderabad, Coimbatore, Chennai, Bangalore, and Mumbai. He has also performed in Dubai, Singapore, Manila, and New York.
And in New York, in April, 2014, he received a compliment, following his seven-minute skit. “A lady came up and said, ‘You are a great comedian. I can see the makings of somebody who will become very big,’” says Sundeep. That turned out to be the actress Denise Grayson who had acted in ‘The Social Network’.
Asked the themes of his show, Sundeep says, “I talk about family, relationships, growing up, travelling, sex, commuting, and animals. I write my own jokes. And I do it all the time. I am in a constant process of thinking and observation. I don't really look at something and say, ‘I have to make a joke out of this’. Instead, it happens subconsciously.”
However, Sundeep is frank enough to admit that Indian comedians tend to borrow jokes from their Western stalwarts. “Well, we copy everything from the west, so why not jokes?” he says. “It is easy to take a western joke and Indianise it. The Westerners will say, ‘Oh my God black people are like this’. You can change it to, ‘Oh God, Malayalis are like this’. But I believe you should talk about things that you are experiencing. Why would you want to take someone else's jokes? There is only one Eddie Murphy and one Chris Rock.”
At Kochi, Sundeep appeared relaxed moments before the show, as he puffed on a cigarette, on the steps just outside the green room. “I have good nerves before a performance,” he says. “It is my first time in Kochi but I am sure it will be a good audience. And there is a reason for this. Wherever I have performed in India, there is a good percentage of Malayalis in the audience. And they are always a fun group. They know how to laugh at themselves.”
And of course, in the show, Sundeep could not help but take a dig at the bans that are taking place. “In Kerala, day by day, everything seems to be banned,” he says. “How are you guys managing for liquor? I am scared that one day they will ban laughter.”
As the audience guffaws, Sundeep signs off with one of his original jokes: “I love Bangalore because it is my home. But Bangalore is changing, including its name. Now Bengaluru is a scary name. It is like something that you get diagnosed with when you go to a STD clinic.”
(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)
Published on September 01, 2015 22:00
August 31, 2015
Can't See, but Can Play Football


By Shevlin Sebastian
Photos by Ratheesh Sundaram
At 6.30 p.m., on a balmy August day, it is getting dark at the astro-turf ground of the Regional Sports Centre at Kochi. But Malaysian Technical Advisor Loo Wai Keong is just getting warmed up. Twelve boys are standing one behind the other at one side of the ground.
Loo picks up the ball and throws it at the lead player, Mohammed Azharuddin. He collects the ball and moves forward. As he comes closer, Loo shouts “Move to the right.” Mohammed moves to the right. Loo then shouts, “Shoot.” And Azharuddin does so. The ball hits the top-right corner of the net. “Well done,” says Loo.
When Abhimanyu Naskar comes forward, the coach shouts at him in English. But Abhimanyu knows only Hindi. At once, the Dehra Dun-based physical instructor, Naresh Singh, says, “The coach is telling you to move faster. Otherwise, the defender will take the ball away from you.”
From a distance, this would seem like a regular workout for a football match. But at close quarters, you can get a shock. All the players are blind.
They have come from places like Delhi, Dehradun, Mumbai, Kolkata, Jodhpur and Kochi. And all of them are training to represent India in the Asian Championships, which is being held in Tokyo, between September 2 and 7.
The team is being mentored by the Kochi-based Society for Rehabilitation of the Visually Challenged (SRVC) and the Indian Blind Sports Association (IBSA). Says Brand Ambassador Shriya Saran, “The Asian Championships will provide a great exposure for the Indian team.”
Incidentally, five-a-side blind football has its own rules: four players should be B1 (fully blind), while the goalkeeper can be B3, which means he can have partial sight, or be fully sighted. The Indian team has two sighted goalkeepers in Sanjay Saji and Melson Jacob.
The area of play is 40 x 20 metres. There are cushioned boards placed on all sides so that the ball does not go out. It also prevents players from hurting themselves. “Before the match, the referee places three layers of bandage on the players to create total darkness, as some may have a slight perception of light,” says MC Roy, Project Head, SRVC. “A game lasts 50 minutes, with a break of 10 minutes. During a match, players can be substituted any number of times.”
As for the ball, it is smaller than a football. “It does not bounce as much,” says Indian coach Sunil Mathew. “In fact, it is slightly heavier because there are ball bearings inside it. The sound is audible to the people who are playing.” Before the start, the coaches of the two team stand at the sidelines. As the match progresses, they shout frantic instructions to the players.
Meanwhile, when a defender approaches a player who has the ball, he has to keep shouting “Voie, Voie.” Sometimes, there is a collision. Many players have suffered injuries on the arms, knees and face. To counter that danger, centre-forward MD Salim Khan plays aggressively.
By the way, the concept of an Indian football team came to Sunil accidentally. One day, when he doing research on the Internet he came across an astonishing statistic. “A country like Brazil, with a population of 198 million, has 660 visually-challenged football teams, while India, with a population of 1.2 billion, has never put up five people for a tournament,” he says. “That was the impetus for SRVC and the IBSA to form a team.”
But to take part in the Tokyo championships, it was a generous grant from the Tata Trusts in Mumbai which tilted the scales.
Biswanath Sinha, Associate Director of Tata Trusts, says, “We want to champion the cause of the visually challenged -- their right to sports, entertainment and a quality life like every other human being.”
(An edited version appeared in Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)
Published on August 31, 2015 22:46