Shevlin Sebastian's Blog, page 79

A Chef Prodigy

Six-year-old Nihal 'Kicha' Raj has his own cooking channel on You Tube. Recently, he gained global fame when he appeared on the Ellen DeGeneres show

Photos: Kicha on the Ellen Degeneres show; at home. Photo by Albin Mathew

By Shevlin Sebastian

“I want to be an astro chef,” says six-year-old Nihal Raj, at his Kochi home. When the reporter looks puzzled, he says, “I want to be an astronaut who can go to outer space and cook. After many years, because of overpopulation, there will be no space on earth. People will start living on the Moon as well as Mars. So, I am going to invent an oven which can be used in space.”

Presently, Nihal, who goes by the name of Kicha (another name for Krishna, and Nihal's mother's favourite god) is in the middle of a media hurricane. Nearly every day, he is getting calls from all over India for interviews from print, radio and TV channels.

And the reason for this is not hard to find. On September 23, Kicha was featured in the popular Ellen DeGeneres show in the US. In a segment, which lasted just four-and-a-half minutes, he demonstrated how puttu (steamed rice with grated coconut, bananas and honey) is made.

His self-confidence in the show was astonishing. When Ellen asked, “How's it to be the US?” he jumped up and down and said, “It's fun.”

However, Kicha's turning point happened in May, this year, when, on his Kicha Tube cooking channel, on You Tube, he showed how mango ice-cream is made. Soon, he got a call from Facebook. Following discussions, they bought the video rights for $2000. Thereafter, Kicha was featured in several international magazines, web sites, and TV channels.

Somebody on the Ellen De Generes show saw this and got in touch with the family. And that was how father VK Rajagopal, mother Ruby, elder sister Nidha, 20, and Kicha were given an all-expenses stay in Hollywood, for a week, apart from free air tickets, for the DeGeneres taping.

Thus far, Kicha has uploaded about 45 videos. In each of them, he explains how a dish is made. These include items like tender coconut pudding, brownies, Punjabi lassi, Sago patties, garlic fried rice, ice cream cake and bread pizza. The videos are recorded on Sunday by Rajagopal and uploaded on every Wednesday.

“Kicha's recipes are either baking or refrigeration-based,” says mother Ruby. “Even in baking, I put the tray inside the oven. When he uses a hand blender, we always mention that parental guidance is required. The last time Kicha used the blender, a lady said, 'Son, be careful about your left hand'. Kicha replied that his mother is standing right next to him, just outside the frame.”

But there is appreciation, too. Viewer Rajah Shan says, “I am a grandfather. I love your recipes. Tried your bread pizza, and it turned out to be beautiful. Bless you.”

Meanwhile, Kicha is waiting to be nine years old. “That is the age my mother will allow me to cook over the fire,” he says, with a smile. 

(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi) 

Capturing A Movement

V.K. Cherian's book focuses on the history of the Indian Film Society
Photos: V.K. Cherian by Kaviyoor Santhosh. The cover of the book 
Shevlin Sebastian
Film-maker MS Sathyu was feeling tense, as he stood outside the screening hall in the basement of Rashtrapathi Bhavan in New Delhi. His film, 'Garam Hava' was stuck at the Censor Board. The officials were reluctant to issue the certificate for the film, which portrayed the life of a North Indian Muslim businessman, following the 1947 Partition of India. So Prime Minister Indira Gandhi was viewing the film accompanied by Delhi Film Society President Gautam Kaul.
After the screening, Gandhi looked at Kaul and said, “What is objectionable may be the Muslim girl romancing on the shores of the Yamuna. I think we will be able to handle it... isn't it?”
Kaul nodded. Then he went out and told Sathyu, “It's done.” And thus, one of the iconic Indian films of post-partition India was released, all thanks to the personal initiative taken by the Prime Minister.
This anecdote was revealed in the book, 'India's Film Society Movement' (The Journey And Its Impact) by VK Cherian. Brought out by Sage Publishers, it chronicles, in lucid style, the history of the movement. “Cherian's treatise charts the sporadic beginnings of the society, its enthusiastic course of growth and the excitements and travails of sustenance over a period of nearly seven decades,” says noted filmmaker Adoor Gopalakrishnan, who wrote the foreword.
In the book, Cherian chronicles the huge impact of Satyajit's Ray's 'Pather Panchali', in India and abroad. In fact, the film has been in the Top 50 list of the greatest films ever made in the highly-respected 'Sight and Sound' magazine, brought out by the British Film Institute.
“It is an unparalleled human document, touching the hearts of millions of people, across the continents, over generations,” says the Delhi-based Cherian, a long-time corporate professional, who has been a Film Society member since 1976.
In one of the chapters, Cherian discusses how the movement grew from the Calcutta Film Society and resulted in the Federation of Film Societies in India. Another chapter deals with the visionaries, which included British film scholar Marie Seton, critic Chidananda Das Gupta (the father of acclaimed director Aparna Sen), film-maker Khwaja Ahmed Abbas, and historian PK Nair, among others.
Kerala also had a flourishing society movement. “The film movement ran piggyback on the library movement and spread to all parts of the state,” says Cherian. “Noted members included Adoor Gopalakrishnan.”
In fact, Adoor's first film, 'Swayamvaram', was financed by the Film Finance Corporation (FFC). But Kolkata's Mrinal Sen did not find the going that easy. In those days, the FFC used to have an annual competition for scripts. “At that time, the script for Sen's 'Bhuvan Shome' won,” says Cherian.
So, Sen applied for a finance of Rs 1.5 lakh, but the officials asked for collateral. He said he did not have any. So they refused to give the money. So Sen approached Indira Gandhi. She thought about it and asked the FFC, “What is the most important part of a film?” The answer: the script as well as the copyright. “So why don't you consider them both as the collateral and release the money,” said Gandhi. And that was how 'Bhuvan Shome' was made.
For his research, Cherian travelled to Kolkata, Chennai, Pune, and other centres, and met the stalwarts. “I also did research in the National Archives,” he says. Thus far, the book has been well-appreciated.
Says award-winning film-maker Shyam Benegal, “Cherian's book is a valuable addition to the somewhat spare shelf of serious books on Indian cinema and certainly among the very rare ones written about the Film Society Movement.” 
(The New Indian Express, Kochi, Kozhikode and Thiruvananthapuram)

A Hysterical Woman

COLUMN:LOCATION DIARY
Director Balachandran Menon talks about his experiences in the films, 'Uthrada Rathri', 'Kuruppinte Kanakku Pustakom', and 'Ithiri Neram Othiri Karyam'
After a short conversation, Balachandran asked whether he could borrow a banian. The man readily gave one. This was worn by Ravi, under his shirt, and since it was a long banian, it reached below the waist. “When the shot was taken, it looked like an underwear,” says Balachandran. “A bit of luck and quick thinking saved the situation.”
(The New Indian Express, Kochi, Kozhikode and Thiruvananthapuram) 

Get, Set, Go....

Artistes, guides, assistants and organisers talk about their work as the Biennale gets going
Photo: Bose Krishnamachari with V. Sunil. Photo by Albin Mathew
By Shevlin Sebastian
On a recent afternoon, Bose Krishnamachari, the president of the Kochi Biennale Foundation, as well as Trustee V Sunil are having a chat under a large tree at Aspinwall House, Fort Kochi. And one of their worries is that they are unable to pay their daily labourers, by cash, because of the shortage of currency following the national demonitisation drive on November 8.
“It is a huge problem,” says Bose. “One labourer asked me for money, to have lunch, and I was unable to give him. I felt bad. For the others, we are paying by cheque, so there is no problem.”
Meanwhile, Sunil is in a nostalgic mood. “When we started out, people had to figure out the meaning of the word, ‘biennale’,” he says. “Suddenly, everyone understood that there is something known as installation art. And the biggest impact was made by Subodh Gupta’s work of a large country boat. In 2015, you came to the Biennale and got in touch with the world. This year, there are a lot of performances. If a poet or a performance artist tried to create contemporary art, what would that be?”
Sunil says there is one difference between Kochi and the other Biennales. “Art is usually a rich person's hobby,” says Sunil. “But, in Kochi, the royalty of the art world, like the head of MOMA (Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art, New York), as well as the Tate Modern, London, moved along with the local people. That cannot be seen in other biennales. It is a people’s Biennale at Kochi.”
Standing nearby is Latvian artist Voldemars Johansons. “I am organising a sound performance which will include an autorickshaw and their drivers who go on their everyday routes. There will be special horns.”
As to whether the heat is getting to him, Voldemars says, “Yes, it is very humid. Back in Latvia, the temperature is close to zero. I am missing the snow. There is a longing in my heart when I saw the pristine winter pictures sent by my wife. But I like both Kochi and Riga [capital of Latvia].”
Taking a breather, in the shade, is award-winning Lebanese artiste Khalid Sabsabi, who lives in Sydney. He is doing a 100 channel video work, but he is waiting for the equipment to arrive. “It was supposed to come to Kochi directly from Sydney, but, for some reason, the Customs have sent it to Bangalore,” he says. “These include projectors, media players, and stands. With the help of volunteers it will take me two days to set it up.”
And to help him, there are several production assistants, like Vipin Dhanurdharan, Jayesh L R, and Manu VR. “We have been working with the Biennale from 2012,” says Vipin. As for Pinky Sujatha, who has just joined, she says, “I love art and wanted to be associated with the Biennale in some way.”
At the entrance to a building, Guido Wolfram is marking out measurements, using a ruler, on a wooden frame. He is helping the Goa-based artist Orijit Sen to install his installation work. At one side there is a sign which says, 'Mapusa Market'. It is one of Goa's most famous old-style markets, set in the town of Mapusa in Northern Goa. “In one room, we will be re-creating the market,” says Guido. “And in the other, we will be putting up the Charminar monument of Hyderabad.” 
Asked whether it will be ready for the December 12 opening, Guido says, “Most of it is pre-fabricated material, so I have no doubt it will be ready before that date,” he says.
The New York artiste Tom Burckhardt is also working hard to get his work ready before the opening. His installation work is made entirely of cardboard. Called 'Studio Flood', the image is that of an artist's studio. “I have decided to turn the room upside down,” he says. “So everything will be upside down. There will be a couple of paintings that will seem to be floating in water.”
Tom's inspiration is Hurricane Sandy which hit New York in 2012. “Many works of my artist friends got destroyed,” he says. “I felt a sense of empathy. When Sudarshan [Shetty, the curator] asked me to take part in the Biennale, I thought this would be a bridge to Kerala, which will face the danger of rising seas, because of global warming.”
Standing outside are interpretation guides Nidhi Tambe, from Kollam, and Dona Johnny from Idukki. They are part of an eight-member team. Their job is to explain the various art works for visitors. “For the past two months, we have undergone a rigorous training,” says Nidhi. Adds Dona: “We have been talking to the artistes, have been involved in production work, and helped in the editing of the guide.”
Both have a huge sense of anticipation. “We are waiting to see how it will turn out,” says Nidhi.
Noted architect Tony Joseph is also keen that his 3500 sq. ft. hall, at the Cabral Yard, turns out well. The walls are made of mud and debris. “Somebody has donated the stones, as well as the lighting,” says Tony. “It will be taken back after the conclusion of the Biennale.”
The ceiling is made of reusable insulation panels. Above it, there is recycled flex sheets, which has been bought at Rs 3 per sq. At the back, there are traditional galleries made of arecanut. “These are similar to the galleries in Malabar where I grew up with,” says Tony. “So, I feel a sense of nostalgia.” 
(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Multiplicities Of Vision

Sudarshan Shetty, the curator of the Kochi Muziris Biennale, talks about his hopes and aspirations, as well as the themes
Photo by Albin Mathew 
By Shevlin Sebastian
The auto-rickshaw driver stepped into the Pepper House at Fort Kochi and scanned the people sitting in the open-air café. Then he spotted a bearded man sitting at one corner with his wife and daughter. He went up to the man and said, “My name is Moosa Bava. Are you the curator of this year’s Biennale?”
Sudarshan Shetty nodded. “I enjoyed the first two editions,” he said. “If you need any suggestions about artistes from South America, please let me know. Many are my friends.”
An amazed Sudarshan says, “This can only happen in India. And, indeed, the people of Fort Kochi have embraced the Biennale to their hearts.”
At the Aspinwall House, the main centre of the 2016 Kochi Muziris Biennale, on a humid November afternoon, Sudarshan has a look of anticipation and nervousness on his face. “The past 15 months have been the most hectic,” he says. “I have never worked so hard.”
He has travelled to numerous countries and looked at the works of more than 300 artistes. Now the final list has been whittled down to 97 artistes, from countries like Russia, France, USA, Slovenia, Poland, Norway, Scotland, Argentina, China, Nigeria, Japan, Latvia, Chile, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Australia.
And, not to forget, 36 Indian artistes, including Abhishek Hazra, Orijit Sen and Ravi Agarwal.
In some of his choices, Sudarshan has opted to go outside the art world. While Raul Zurita is a poet, Anamika Haksar is a theatre person, and Sharmistha Mohanty is a writer. Apart from them, there will be craftspeople, performers, film-makers, muralists, painters and sculptors. 
As for the theme, it is titled 'Forming in the pupil of an eye'. “This comes from a Vedic idea that when a sage looks at the world, he assimilates all the multiplicities of the world through that one moment of vision,” says Sudarshan. “That vision also reflects back into the world.”
Indeed, the curator wanted to focus on multiplicities: of language, culture, experiences, people and visions. “We are different, but, ultimately, we all are one,” he says. “And I wanted all the works to have conversations with each other.”
Even as he talks, work is going on in full swing: workmen pounding nails into walls, iron rods being cut with a cutter, new tubelights being fitted, even as some walls get a fresh coat of paint.
Right at the centre of Aspinwall House a showpiece pyramid is coming up, made of cowdung and wood. This is being made by Aleš Šteger, a celebrated Slovenian poet, essayist, and novelist. “It is a homage to all the exiled poets of the world throughout history,” says the Mumbai-based Sudarshan, a JJ School of Art alumni, whose paintings, sculptures and installations have been exhibited in London, Paris, New York, Oslo, and Fukuoka, Japan.  
As for the question of whether the Kochi Biennale has established itself in the international art community, Sudarshan says, “Absolutely. Everybody knows about it. In such a short span, it has gathered a huge reputation, and has become one of the most important biennales in Asia.”
The Kochi Muziris Biennale runs from December 12 to March 29, 2017. 
(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi) 

The Search For Truth

Tim Boyd, the International President of the Theosophical Society, gives his views, while on a recent visit to Kochi
Photos: Mind consciousness illustration by Sai Nath; Tim Boyd; Society founders Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, Colonel Henry Steel Olcott  By Shevlin Sebastian When Tim Boyd, the International President of the Theosophical Society, stood on the stage at the society centre in Pallimukku, Kochi, on a recent Monday morning, he was amazed at the number of people present. “It meant that they found it of sufficient value,” says Boyd. “It speaks about the spiritual urge among people.”
According to theosophy, there are seven levels of consciousness. Most people experience the physical world, as well as that of feelings and emotions. “But there are deeper dimensions which are more spiritual,” says Boyd. “To access these worlds, it is important to focus on them.”
Boyd gives an example. “Two men are having a conversation,” he says. “If one of them is spiritually-evolved, he will not only listen to the other person, but, at the same time, he will be aware of the birds singing in the trees. Through practice and meditation, he has extended his awareness.  Theosophy says that it is possible for all us to extend our minds in this manner.” Meanwhile, as Boyd travels all over the world, giving talks, he notices differences in reaction. “In America, a young country, just 223 years old, the attitude towards life is all about activity and motion,” says Boyd. “In India, an ancient civilisation, the approach is philosophical. People ask questions, analyse, and come to certain conclusions. In Latin America, there is a deep devotion to something they find value in. However, these are superficial differences. At the core, everybody is united by their search for the truth.” 
(Published in The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)   

'Fan'tastic!

All sorts of things take place during a league match of the Indian Super League at Kochi
By Shevlin Sebastian
Ashwini Nadar, 22, is standing on the steps of Level 1, at the Gate 17 entrance of the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium at Kochi on a Sunday evening. But she has a crestfallen look as she watched the Kerala Blasters football players go through their practice drills just before the group match against Northeast United in the Hero Indian Super League.
She is a fan of Josu Currias, the Spanish midfielder. But Ashwini had just come to know that Josu is injured and is not playing. “I have come all the way from Chennai by bus with my sister Abhinaya to watch him play,” she says. “Now, I feel so disappointed.”
But Jijesh S, 28, has no such disappointments. The Cherthala native loves football and is a regular at all the matches. “I buy my tickets online,” he says.
As he talks, there is a cacophony of sounds – bugles blowing, shouts, screams, and a thumping drum beat through the public address system. It is a sea of yellow, but one youngster springs a surprise. He wears a blue and red jersey of the Barcelona football team, with Lionel Messi, written in white letters, at the back.
Another youngster, the 13-year-old Ramesh George turns to his sister, Beena, 15, and says, “Looks like you are the only girl.” But Beena spots an eight-year-old sitting a few rows ahead. “Not the only one,” she says, as she points at the girl. “But I think girls are one in a thousand.”
Yes, indeed, the vast majority of the spectators present are men. After all, football is a celebration of machismo and aggression, apart from skill and talent.
So, when a muscular John Abraham, actor, and owner of North-East United, takes a walk around the stadium, greeting the fans, he gets a huge cheer: Bollywood charm reigns supreme.
Even as he is doing so, on the field, the referee, along with the two linesmen are also doing warm-up jogs across the pitch. Not many of us realise that the referee does as much running as the players during the course of the match.
Here’s a quiz question: what is the way to make 60,000 people become pin-drop silent and not make a movement? It’s very simple. You just have to play the national anthem. It was remarkable how quiet the stadium became. And the roar that erupted when the anthem was concluded must have knocked the decibel record away.
The match begins, on the dot, at 7 p.m. Expectedly, as soon as the Kerala players reach the penalty circle, everybody stands up and crane their necks. And then when the attack peters out, as if on cue, everybody sits down, even as they let out sighs and groans. It is almost like a choreographic dance.
During a break in play, one linesman points at an area in front of a hoarding just near the sideline. Blasters Defender Sandesh Jhingam jogs over and picks up a water bottle. Quickly, he takes a swig and then passes it on to the linesman who also has a sip. It is a rare on-field camaraderie between a player and an official.
The match is boring for long stretches, with poor attacks, passes going a-begging, and a lack of creativity. But it all changes when Blasters Vineeth scores a goal in the 66th minute. Thereafter, the game comes alive.
In the end, watching a match at the stadium is exactly as the song that is played constantly through the public address system: ‘We will rock you’ by Queen.
All of us, at the stadium, are, indeed, rocked by the experience. 
(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Not At All Visually Challenged

'Inspiring Ilango', despite a lack of sight, is a noted voice-over artiste, singer, public speaker and entrepreneur

Photo by Ratheesh Sundaram

By Shevlin Sebastian
One day, in 1990, when Inspiring Ilango stepped outside the classroom at the Loyola College, Chennai, a group of seniors stopped him. They said they wanted to talk to him. One of them even yanked at Ilango's collar. The group then moved to the middle of the football ground. And then they began to hurl insults at Ilango.
All of them had been irked by Ilango's passion for the English language. “They felt that I was a snob,” says the Chennai-based Ilango, while on a recent visit to Kochi. “When I told them that I had studied in Tamil-medium schools, they laughed and said, 'Do you think you can master English?'”
Thereafter, one student, Robert Daniel (name changed) said, “Forget about your English. You don’t have something that we all have. You can’t see. You can’t see your mother’s face, you can’t see the sunrise or sunset. You have not seen your own face. Have you ever thought of killing yourself?”
Ilango felt that he had been hit by a thunderbolt. “I did think about killing myself,” he told them. “I asked myself, 'Why was I created like this? All my friends can see and enjoy life.' But from now onwards, let me assure you, I will die a natural death. Because, if people like you can exist then why can’t I?'”
It was a turning point for Ilango. A fierce determination and a desire to succeed sprung to life within him. Eventually, Ilango got a M. Phil in English Language Teaching from the University of Madras. And today, Ilango is a success in every sense of the word.
He is a voice-over artiste, in English and Tamil, for hundreds of advertisements. Apart from that, he is an ace singer, who knows more than 3000 songs in Tamil, Malayalam, Hindi and Telugu. He runs his own company, Ace Panacea Life Skills, which as the name suggests, is to develop people skills so that they can do well in society. 
But his drawing card is as an inspiring public speaker for companies, schools, colleges, NGOs, and various social and cultural organisations. The topics vary from entrepreneurship, leadership qualities, secrets of happiness, inter-personal skills, and effective communication skills for business and personal success.
Incidentally when asked about his name, 'Inspiring Ilango', he says, “Once, after hearing my speech, Dr. C. Sylendra Babu, a senior police officer, at Chennai, told the audience, 'This gentleman is not Ilango, but Inspiring Ilango'. Ever since then I have been known by this name.”
Meanwhile, when asked whether people lack the staying power to reach success, Ilango says, “I agree. One of the most successful insurance salesmen in the US, Ben Feldman, was asked this question: 'How many times would you knock on the door of a customer, who repeatedly says no'. Ben's reply: 'It depends on which one of us dies first'. There is a powerful truth in this statement. Until you succeed, the effort must be there, no matter how long it takes, be it one or two decades. It might happen two days before you die, but you should never give up.”
At Kochi, Ilango had come to offer support for the 22 visually challenged people who are operating the first telesales centre operated set up by the Society for the Rehabilitation of the Visually Challenged (SRVC). “This is a very good initiative,” says Ilango. SRVC Project Head MC Roy says, “Yes, it is. As for Ilango, he is a great achiever.” 
(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)    

In A Minority, But Loving It

Women wildlife photographers are a rarity in Kerala. Seema Suresh and Aparna Purushothaman talk about their experiences 

Photo: Aparna Purushothaman  and Seema Suresh 

By Shevlin Sebastian 

Seema Suresh, 38, and a group of friends, were travelling, recently, in a car, through the Mudumalai Wildlife Sanctuary in Tamil Nadu. Suddenly, they saw an astonishing sight. An enraged elephant was attacking a 10 foot tall tree, with his tusks. “For about 15 minutes, he went on knocking the tree,” says Seema. “Then, as if in slow motion, the tree fell down with a thud. 

The moment that happened, the elephant cooled down suddenly. It moved to one side and began to eat grass peacefully. He reminded me of some human beings.”

Seema took dozens of photos. “I love to shoot elephants, because I have seen them from my childhood, when I would go to temples,” she says. “But this was the first time I saw an angry wild elephant.” 
The Kochi-based Seema is one among a handful of women wildlife photographers in Kerala. And she came to this passion by accident. In June, 2011, she saw a Facebook (FB) post about a wildlife photography camp being held at a sanctuary in Thrissur district. She took part. And got gripped by it. 
Today, Seema has taken photos of the tiger, spotted deer, langur, nilgai, sloth bear, and birds like the flamingo and the Great Hornbill in all the major forests of Kerala, Tamil Nadu, and Karnataka. In end October, Seema went to the Bandipur Wild Life Sanctuary. Her series on wild dogs was shown at the recent 'Open Origins, Open Ends' exhibition held at the Durbar Hall, Kochi. 
Meanwhile, when asked about the disadvantages of being a woman photographer, Aparna Purushothaman, another wildlife photographer, says, “In our society, it is not possible for us to go into a forest on our own. We don't have the freedom. Instead, I have to be attached to a group.” 
But, mostly, Aparna is accompanied by her husband, Ashok Damodaran, an assistant engineer in the Kerala State Electricity Board. 
Aparna's love of photography was triggered by a gift, in 2012, from Ashok, of a Sony Cybershot camera. She began by taking shots of nature. But, these days, she uses the Canon 5D Mark 3, with 100-400 mm lenses.“Because I am a woman, many people pay attention to my images when I upload them on FB,” says Aparna, a Kottayam-based doctoral research scholar, at MG University, as well as a teacher. 
Like Seema, Aparna has shot in places like the Parambikulam and Neyyar wildlife sanctuaries in Kerala, as well as in Karnataka and Tamil Nadu. 
Apart from the joy of shooting pictures, conservation is uppermost on her mind. “If I see somebody aiming a gun at a bird or an animal, I will immediately lodge a complaint with the forest department,” says Aparna. “It is only when you go to the forest and see the beauty of the animals that you realise that killing them is a sacrilege.” 
(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

The Kochi Biennale is primed for the December 12 inaugural

By Shevlin Sebastian
(Published in the state edition, The New Indian Express)