Comfortably Numb

Sheila Kumar's Storehouse

Published on: 03/28/20 1:20 PM

Pandemic posts

                 
Tuesday larfs… or why I shouldn`t read the Live Chats during a Pink Floyd concert.
Fan A: Aaaaaaaah.
Fan B: Any PF fans from India here?
Fan C: Meeeee!
Fan D: is this a live concert?
Fan E: Bro, how can it be a live concert? Lockdown times, right?
Fan F: India!
Fan D: Eritrea!
Fan G: Emozione pura.
Fan H: By the way, which one`s Pink?
Fan I: That`d be Roger Waters and he ain`t here.
Fan F: This is the song of my youth.
Fan J: How old are you, sistah?
Fan F: Why`d you wanna know?
Fan K: Let`s get DG and RW back together!
Fans A, D, H, I J, K through to N vociferously agree.
Fan L: A line of Chinese characters.
Fan M: USA, USA, USA.
Fan N: Bro, you do know PF is British?
Fan O: Lula peso.
Fan P: Wow, that Rickenbacker guitar!
Fan Q: A rant on Bolsanaro which can`t be replicated here.
Fan M: Wish Syd Was Here.
Fan R: Waters is the heart of PF.
Fans B, L, M, N and O get into a vicious argument about whether Waters or Gilmour is better. Issue remains unsolved.
Fan S: F.
Fan C: What is F?
Fan S: f…f…f…
Fan T: Russia is with you.
Fan S: f/f/f/f/
Fan U: Please stop with the Fs?
Fan V: Ufffff.
Fan S: F…f…F…f…F…f.
Fan W: What`s the song now playing?
Fan N: You call yourself a PF fan, bro?
Fan X: Is there anybody out there?
Fan P: I am. Out there.
Fan Y: This is biblical.
Fan Z: Not without Waters, it isn’t.
Fan ZZ: Iran loves PF.
Fan ZZZ: Guitar have to be higher.
Fan S: F…F…F…F.
Fresh argument breaks out between Fans M, D, P, Q and R.
Fan L: Lots and lots of Chinese characters.

One sentimental post.

Invitations that are now off the table, which I miss with every fibre of my being:

  • It`s short notice I know but let`s catch the new Fahadh Fasal/ Aamir Khan/Robert D Jr movie at the mall tonight?
  • I`ve bought a load of fresh bamboo shoots. Come up to Mount Pleasant for dinner?
  • Are we still on for the Chicago-Vancouver trip this September?
  • Cottons just sent me a message saying they`ve got in their summer stock…plan an Indiranagar trip soon?
  • The next Book Club meet is on for this weekend, bookmark it, okay? I`m making my chutney sandwiches on popular demand.
  • The Ranwar fete will be on next month. You so enjoyed the last one, just book off a ticket to Mumbai like, today.
  • There`s a new Italian place that has opened, here in Kammanahalli. When do we go check it out?
  • I`ve been lusting after that gorgeous fire-engine-red lipper you were wearing the last time we met…let`s go lipstick shopping?
  • Babe, I`m suffering withdrawal symptoms, haven`t been to Blossoms in ages. Let`s go spend an afternoon there?
  • Wokay, it`s my Significant Birthday so let`s do this differently…have a chaat and white wine party, just about 30 of us?
  • Okay the fam`s taking me to Egypt later this year, my birthday trip. Since you are practically family, wanna join us?
  • Heard Def Leppard is coming to India, and playing Bangalore too! Get the gang together and plan a rock reunion?
  • When do you get off work? I`m in the vicinity and can pick you up, if you have time for a coffee and catch-up?
  • Dying to have some pizza and dying to see you…when do we meet?

SIGH.


Two Covid reflections….

 

One, I had to go `out` today and got quite excited, pulling out concealer, pressed powder, kohl pencil, mascara, lipper, fragrance.
Then I remembered I was only going to the RTO to renew my DL, and put everything but the kohl pencil back.
To make myself feel better, though, I chose a mask that matched my outfit.


 

Two, I came across this sentence in Andrew Sean Greer`s Less: On a bench, a middle-aged couple kisses passionately, obliviously, their trench coats spattered with droplets.
That last word quite ruined it for me.
In a second, I was fretting about how those droplets would immediately infect the two of them; how one might catch a mild form of Covid and home isolate but how the other might be ill enough to be taken to a hospital.
Would the BBMP ambulance come in time? Would there be ventilator beds available in the hospital? Would they be able to afford a private facility? If not, would the partner pay for it? If the partner refused to pay for it, would the promising relationship end abruptly?
Ah, love in Covid times.


 

AMADEUS is the current play streaming @ National Theatre, London. And it was a treat. Maybe it was pitched slightly higher than I`d have liked, maybe some parts of it appeared overblown but the power of Peter Shaffer`s masterly discourse on mediocrity and how mediocrity reacts in the face of sublimity, shone through bright and clear.
Lucian Msamati displayed all the anguish and jealousy of Salieri in a moving manner while Adam Gillen was the vulgar, impish but fiendishly talented Mozart to a tee. The Southbank Sinfonia provided a live score that effectively underpinned the powerful play.
And now I must get my hands on all the other Peter Shaffer works for a re-read. What a playwright the man was.
On till Thursday at
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaEP2zn4bRE&t=121s


Tuesday larfs… or why I shouldn`t read the Live Chats during a Pink Floyd concert.

Fan A: Aaaaaaaah.
Fan B: Any PF fans from India here?
Fan C: Meeeee!
Fan D: is this a live concert?
Fan E: Bro, how can it be a live concert? Lockdown times, right?
Fan F: India!
Fan D: Eritrea!
Fan G: Emozione pura.
Fan H: By the way, which one`s Pink?
Fan I: That`d be Roger Waters and he ain`t here.
Fan F: This is the song of my youth.
Fan J: How old are you, sistah?
Fan F: Why`d you wanna know?
Fan K: Let`s get DG and RW back together!
Fans A, D, H, I J, K through to N vociferously agree.
Fan L: A line of Chinese characters.
Fan M: USA, USA, USA.
Fan N: Bro, you do know PF is British?
Fan O: Lula peso.
Fan P: Wow, that Rickenbacker guitar!
Fan Q: A rant on Bolsanaro which can`t be replicated here.
Fan M: Wish Syd Was Here.
Fan R: Waters is the heart of PF.
Fans B, L, M, N and O get into a vicious argument about whether Waters or Gilmour is better. Issue remains unsolved.
Fan S: F.
Fan C: What is F?
Fan S: f…f…f…
Fan T: Russia is with you.
Fan S: f/f/f/f/
Fan U: Please stop with the Fs?
Fan V: Ufffff.
Fan S: F…f…F…f…F…f.
Fan W: What`s the song now playing?
Fan N: You call yourself a PF fan, bro?
Fan X: Is there anybody out there?
Fan P: I am. Out there.
Fan Y: This is biblical.
Fan Z: Not without Waters, it isn’t.
Fan ZZ: Iran loves PF.
Fan ZZZ: Guitar have to be higher.
Fan S: F…F…F…F.
Fresh argument breaks out between Fans M, D, P, Q and R.
Fan L: Lots and lots of Chinese characters.

 


One sentimental post.

Invitations that are now off the table, which I miss with every fibre of my being:
• It`s short notice I know but let`s catch the new Fahadh Fasal/ Aamir Khan/Robert D Jr movie at the mall tonight?
• I`ve bought a load of fresh bamboo shoots. Come up to Mount Pleasant for dinner?
• Are we still on for the Chicago-Vancouver trip this September?
Cottons just sent me a message saying they`ve got in their summer stock…plan an Indiranagar trip soon?
• The next Book Club meet is on for this weekend, bookmark it, okay? I`m making my chutney sandwiches on popular demand.
• The Ranwar fete will be on next month. You so enjoyed the last one, just book off a ticket to Mumbai like, today.
• There`s a new Italian place that has opened, here in Kammanahalli. When do we go check it out?
• I`ve been lusting after that gorgeous fire-engine-red lipper you were wearing the last time we met…let`s go lipstick shopping?
• Babe, I`m suffering withdrawal symptoms, haven`t been to Blossoms in ages. Let`s go spend an afternoon there?
• Wokay, it`s my Significant Birthday so let`s do this differently…have a chaat and white wine party, just about 30 of us?
• Okay the fam`s taking me to Egypt later this year, my birthday trip. Since you are practically family, wanna join us?
• Heard Def Leppard is coming to India, and playing Bangalore too! Get the gang together and plan a rock reunion?
• When do you get off work? I`m in the vicinity and can pick you up, if you have time for a coffee and catch-up?
• Dying to have some pizza and dying to see you…when do we meet?

SIGH.


 


Arun Karthick`s NASIR (Tamil), which streamed on Youtube as part of the WeAreOne Film Fest, bludgeons with its quiet story, quiet acting, quiet pace and its far-from-quiet climax.

Shot in a manner as to immediately engage the viewer, unspooling at a measured pace, it traces one day in the life of a Muslim man of middle age (Koumarane Valavane underplaying it to maximum effect) living in a slum tenement in Coimbatore and going about his life as a salesman in a textile shop. He has his trials but bears it wth dignity and some gentle humour. He is a closet poet too, and if his reserved demeanour doesn’t endear him to you, this fact will.

Coimbatore, meanwhile, is simmering with well, what else, communal tension. There`s a mob shouting BMKJ out on the streets, wielding scythes and wooden staves, thirsting for `other` blood.

You don`t need me to tell you how this deeply affecting film ends. This is how a city, a country, is brought to rack and ruin.

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For all that I`m a Shakespeare junkie, I find CORIOLANUS quite the Bard`s most boring play, for all that it is timeless in its relevance.
National Theatre`s streaming the 2013 version of the play till Thursday, with the abrasive, mother-pecked, not quite tragic hero being played by arguably the sexiest Shakespearean character alive: Tom Hiddleston. And he plays it very well, too. What I found hilarious was how almost every second character in the play gets to paw, caress, kiss Coriolanus… even the rival general Aufidius who quite overdoes the homeoerotic bit! ?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XHqkEruwBT0

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Right at the start of THE EPIC OF EVEREST, appears a slide which states that men have battled with nature since the beginning of the world.
And on World Environment Day, I couldn`t help but muse that maybe this lay at the root of the problem: a refusal to co-exist.
However, that jarring note apart, the film shot on a hand-held camera in 1924 and restored by the BFI National Archive in 2013, is an enthralling watch.
The photographer John Noel was part of the Everest expedition of 1924 in which George Mallory and Andrew Irvine set off for the summit and never returned. Mallory`s body was found 75 years later. Irvine`s body has never been found.
There are many who believe the two Englishmen were the first to summit Mt. Everest. Alas, dead men tell no stories, true or false.
Streaming on YouTube as part of the WeAreOne Film Festival.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mv40sWQI0kw

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Epiphany: I really am a Shakespeare junkie. Will watch anything written by da man from Stratford-upon- Avon. Then again, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Globe Theatre`s latest streaming, was a fun watch, on the whole. And that was because this slight-as-air play (not one worthy Shakespeare quote, alas) on cuckolds and cuckoldry, was given some neat twists by director Elle White. The actors were niftily clad in what was trending in the 1930s, executed some slick dance moves, and the way Falstaff balanced his lechery and greed with a world-weary jaded air, worked well. Basically the `rude mechanicals` in the pits seemed  to be thoroughly enjoying themselves and that`s what good theatre is all about, innit?

 

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MEANWHILE, MIGRANTS ELSEWHERE….
The We Are One film fest was streaming Prateek Vats` debut EEB ALLEY OOO, which has garnered much praise since its fall 2019 premiere, and what a wrenching watch it was.
A migrant worker in India`s capital city is given the `sarkari` job as a monkey-chaser in the Rashtrapati Bhavan area, long menaced by rhesus monkeys, as all who have lived or live in Delhi know.
It just so happens that he`s terrified of the creatures, terrible at chasing them away, and dislikes his job more than anything in the world.
The film has been described as a socio-political satire but all political motifs remain very subtle. The focus is on what people will do, are forced to do, to earn their daily bread, and personal dignity be damned.
As a satire, though, the film works beautifully. You watch Anjani`s dehumanising struggle with the smallest of wry smiles but with a heart full of sympathy.
Oh, and the title is the string of nonsensical sounds made by the men whose job it is to repel monkeys.
These are the films that ought to represent India at the Oscars. But what am I thinking… India`s image does anything but shine in films such as these.

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Seventy-three  years after Tennessee Williams wrote his heart-wrenching play A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE, the National Theatre At Home is streaming it.  The fine-boned Gillian Anderson (so far removed from her Scully days, you wouldn`t believe it!) puts in  an overwrought performance as Blanche Dubois, and is ably backed by Ben Foster as the rough-and-tough Stanley Kowalski but it is Vanessa Kirby as the sweet and vulnerable Stella Kowalski nee Dubois who nearly steals the show.  Over the course of nearly two hours, we watch transfixed as the fragile, febrile Blanche arrives to live with the Kowalskis and wrecks their far- from- perfect life in the most devastating manner.

The sets are modern even as the script and costumes cleave close to the classic play, and that set me thinking: how relevant is the story now? Well, women teetering on the edge of reality there are aplenty, alas; women married to louts and fairly content with their lot, too, there are quite a few; louts, of course, there are more than a few around. However, Blanche’s affected mannerisms, her grating southern twang, her OTT  coquettishness, all set my teeth on edge, and I wondered how willing a modern-day sister would be to take such a character in.

Powerful theatre. Streaming  at  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJEpYaD3yTw

 

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‘Going nowhere, as Leonard Cohen would later emphasise for me, isn’t about turning your back on the world; it’s about stepping away now and then so that you can see the world more clearly and love it more deeply.’ PICO IYER.
Turning to my favourite travel books till I can travel again.
#travel #travelogues #travelwriting #theworldinabook #worldsinwords #booksiread

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Watching THE WINTER`S TALE, the Globe`s latest offering, was a fresh reminder of how well Shakespeare portrayed human emotions. Here, of course, it was one man`s suspicion and jealousy ruining the lives of many, costing him his wife, his son and heir, his best friend, his most loyal courtier, the respect of a whole lot of his subjects. “Apprehend nothing but jollity,“ a character reassures the afflicted King of Sicilia but actually the play plumbs some dark emotions. Under Blanche McIntyre`s direction, the cast puts in very energetic performances (special hat tip to Paulina, the BFF every woman must have, essayed here by Sirine Saba) and everything proceeds swimmingly…. except for the famous stage direction `Exit pursued by bear’ (yes this is the play!) where we actually have to suffer the banner of a bear coming down on poor Antigonus, which rather ruined the moment. On the whole, though, a good watch.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nscB0yEWSgY&t=904s

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So, last evening I watched the Scottish play. It`s my absolute favourite of all Shakespeare`s plays and I`d have wept if the Globe production ( a 2020 Feb production, at that) had ruined it. Happy to report that they didn’t.
Mac `ole boy (Ekow Quartey) did fall a wee bit short in my estimate, and I shuddered when he adopted a Black patois in the banquet scene. But lor lumme, his lady (Elly Condron) was simply wonderful. While Macbeth`s meltdown was frenetic, Lady M`s fall from internal and external grace was a moving sight to behold.
It was a rainy day in London when the show was on, so the groundlings in the pit were a wet lot, not that they seemed to mind. Oh, and the three witches? Quite the most gruesome trio I have ever seen.
Early in the play, Duncan commands his underlings, Go get him a surgeon. And one immediately wished for a leader like that who could command, Go get them a (covid) vaccine.
Streaming for this fortnight.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFwHmgA9nno&feature=em-lsp

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So, there`s this ageing Roman General, now quite given over to a life of drink and dissolution. He`s been married once, will soon marry again (the Roman Emperor`s sister, no less) but his heart is with his capricious, calculating mistress who just happens to be the Queen of Egypt. Their fiery affair then, is quite the ruin of him. And her.
National Theatre`s latest offering, ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA has the redoubtable Ralph Fiennes playing the once great Mark Antony as a jaded man, so past his glory days, it`s difficult to look upon him as he is now.
Sophie Okonedo`s Cleopatra is more shrew than seductress. The character verged on borderline manic depressive through the loooong play, at least to this viewer.
It was a bit of a slog, the watch. But then, it is not the easiest of the Bard`s plays to stage, either.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lWc6_aCTqI0

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Culture-vulturing this past week had its ups and downs….individual takes posted with individual photos.

ANGREZI MEDIUM, alas, is a boring watch even for fans of Irrfan. Everybody involved played their parts well: Radhika Madan as the young daughter who makes it to `Truford College` in London all the way from Udaipur, Irrfan as Champak Bhansal the halwai, Deepak Dobriyal as Gopi his cousin, Ranvir Shorey as Bablu an NRI friend, Pankaj Tripathi in a cameo, Dimple Kapadia in something a tad longer than a cameo, Kareena Kapoor Khan in a cameo. It’s the lacklustre script that does these fine actors, as well as the movie in. Such a pity. And so, Irrfan`s last film is a bland feelgood film that falls short of being either really witty or a certified tearjerker. Streaming on Hotstar.

Not watching the JLF talks as much as I would like to. Caught William Dalrymple talking to Robert Macfarlane, though. They talked of Nature, of travel, of the travel writers both found inspiring. On JLF Brave New World. http://jlflitfest.org/bnw

Watched/heard the Andrew Lloyd Webber show on YouTube. All the songs were old faves so one sang lustily (there really ain`t no other way to belt these numbers out!) but bereft of a storyline, it didn`t have the magic the ALW musicals contain. The show at the Royal Albert Hall was to celebrate ALW`s 50th birthday in 1998. The line-up was a formidable one, with the likes of Glen Close, Boyzone, Donny Osmond, Bonnie Tyler, Kiri Te Kanawa, Michael Ball, Bonnie, Tyler, Sarah Brightman, Antonio Banderas (as the Phantom, and omg, what a sexy Phantom!) all singing their hearts out.

Roamed Petra on airpano.com, staring in star-struck fashion at the much-larger-than-life structures that shine amber by day and pure gold by the light of a thousand candles at night.

In their third offering since in lockdown times, the Globe finally takes all of Shakespeare’s bombast, slightness of story plot and weaves together one fine show. THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN is a 2018 production that takes a relatively obscure play co-written by Shakespeare (his last ever work) and John Fletcher, and makes of it a mad, merry caper, with all the Bardian tropes: a pretty maid, kinship between the cousins till they go head to head with each other, another pretty maid who goes mad for love, much song, much dance, much melodrama…much roistering fun. Streaming till May 18 at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ih94IYI6I28&feature=youtu.be

And this evening, there`s my friend songstress Radha Thomas performing with Ramjee Chandran from their home (duh, where else?) this evening at 8pm. This is to raise funds for street dogs. You can catch them on @HOUSECONCERTSDELHI — with Radha Thomas.

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National Theatre, London, gives us another smashing play, FRANKENSTEIN, streaming till May 8.
Just like in Twelfth Night, the stage settings are awesome. Here, 3,500 small lights go to blanket the stage ceiling and if you`ll pardon the pun, the effect is truly electric.
Also, with Danny Boyle`s direction and Nick Dear`s script cleaving close to Mary Shelley`s classic tale, ultimately I felt a deep and renewed admiration at Shelley`s creative imagination that gave us this enduring tragic tale of ambition going awry, of a botched experiment, a tweak on the story of Icarus who flew too close to the sun.
Interestingly, we are offered two versions of the same play, Version One with Benedict Cumberbatch playing the Creature and Jonny Lee Miller playing his creator, the tormented Dr Frankenstein. Version Two has the two leads swapping roles. Both shows were in one word, spellbinding.
Cumberbatch`s Creature is the more menacing one, barely articulate but moving us to tears when he tells his creator that grotesque appearance apart, he is a man who feels all the emotions the doctor does. This creature is still a work in progress and all the awkward angles, physical and emotional, show up clearly. Miller plays the doctor as distracted, tormented, guilty, afraid. And the conclusion has us moved beyond words.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tl8jxNrtceQ&feature=em-lsp

In Version two, Miller imbues the Creature with many human characteristics, including a faint sense of humour. He seems to find his feet quickly, and I mean that literally, since this Creature soon totters less and is able to stand fairly comfortably. He is also less threatening, more pleading, and somehow, we feel more for him than when Cumberbatch essayed the character.
Cumberbatch, on his part, plays Dr Frankenstein as a highly distracted scientist, still riding high on hubris and not too guilt-ridden about this thing he has spawned, then spurned.
The rest of the cast has put in well-hewn performances but in the end, we are left with images of only the two wretched men: the flailing, monstrous creature and the genius who created him.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dI88grIRAnY

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And for this week, the weekend to come, and the restricted freedom of the weeks ahead, here is the one and only LEONARD COHEN`s ANTHEM.
Read the poem, watch him sing it, take solace from it.
No one could tell it quite like it is, like the Master.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6wRYjtvIYK0

                 

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The shows, they have been a-streaming, and me, I`ve been happily culture-vulturing. May I please recommend that you watch some of the stuff I watched over the past week?
Deets above the individual photos.
Aside from these, was Hampstead Theatre`s DRAWING THE LINE, a powerful play that focuses on the hapless Cyril Radcliffe, the British judge deputed to divide India and Pakistan in the space of five weeks, in 1947.
There was my friend Shefali Tripathi Mehta reading from her book STUCK LIKE LINT; it`s on her timeline.
There was Ratna and Naseeruddin Shah reciting Vikram Seth`s The Elephant and the Tragopan, which was charming despite the glitches.
There was Malavika Sarukkai performing KALA -Time as part of the NCPA @home, so gracefully, you were transfixed all through the 40-minute show.
There was my friend Prasad Bidapa delivering a Career Class on the Fashion Industry in characteristically detailed fashion; the Friday concert of Pink Floyd (Live at Pompeii, last Friday); the JLF talks… actually, I`m having a whole lotta fun hunkering down!

It was a case of third time lucky re Shakespeare. After watching Hamlet and Romeo & Juliet at the Globe, both meh productions, I saw National Theatre`s TWELFTH NIGHT and was immediately blown away. I think the show changes on Thursday night, so if thou art Bardophiles (I just made that word up!), get thee to YouTube and watch this wonderful performance. It infuses fresh interpretative life into what is actually quite a silly play, changes Malvolio to Malvolia (essayed by the marvellous Tamsin Greig) and gives her poignant heft, and the performances, stage setting, jazz music and top-rate production values all make this one splendid watch.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aig5ObghHS4&t=254s

Then I took an Explorer360 tour of Machu Picchu, lazily virtual-travelling around the ancient site, marvelling at the structures the Incas built in 1450, my mind harking back to one of my favourite plays, Peter Shaffer`s The Royal Hunt Of The Sun. `Archaeological wonder` is a weak term to fall back on but it will have to do, here. The Urubamba River winding lazily through a canyon, the solid stone walls of the estate, the emerald terraces, the Huayna Picchu and Machu Picchu mountains magnificently hedging the ruins, all walked right out of the screen and into a happy place in my head. I don’t know if I will ever go there in what looks now to be a very distant future, but am I glad I was able to take this tour. www.fromcusco.com

From the second tranche of the NCPA@home shows, I just loved Song of the Himalayas, an experience via music, visuals and stories, conceptualised by Shantanu Moitra. The `Singing Nun` Ani Choying Drolma was a rare treat to listen to, her sonorous voice in beautiful contrast to the silvery pitch of Kaushiki Chakraborty`s voice, with Ashwin Srinivasan playing an absolutely magical flute. You can view it all this week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P5boy743KY

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On World Shakespeare Day (What do we do today? Spout aphorisms by the Bard in our homes? Grow a neat little beard?) I watched ROMEO & JULIET, the 2009 performance at the Globe, streaming free for this fortnight starting 20 April.
I`ve never been fond of this particular canoodling couple, R. Montague and J. Capulet. I mean, she`s not yet turned 14, and he looks just about a year older, plus remember how he starts the play raving about Rosaline??
“Get thee to thine books or thine embroideries,“ is what I have always wanted to tell these two.
However, the sheer exuberance and energy the two brought and flaunted onstage had me suspending my disapproval, smiling even. For a while.
The play hewed close to ye olde tradition, no major tweaks here, and Romeo was played by a black man (Adetomiwa Edun) and Juliet (Ellie Kendrick) a white girl, a neat touch.
But the initial charm quickly faded. Soon, I was rolling my eyes at Friar Laurence`s batty plan to save the lovers, at the Nurse`s vacillations, and muttering `Get thee to thine studies/embroideries, young wantons.`
That last term, btw, is not mine. William Shakespeare himself had the priest addressing Mr Montagu and Miss Capulet thusly. ?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSAlPJ0FG_0

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Kitchen (Un)confidential

This is a story soaked in much emotion: there are strands of incipient hope, dollops of deep dismay, lashings of epic failure in the mix.
The backstory of my misadventures in the kitchen is that I come from a line of women who didn`t cook. Oh, they could cook, sometimes very well, but mostly chose not to. Thereby, no family tradition of pottering around in spacious kitchens, dishing up amazing food.
So I never really entered the kitchen of the many army quarters we stayed in, in my premarital days. Then I got married to an army man and entered many a kitchen in many army quarters, slaving over the proverbial hot stove and turning out unrecognisable and barely edible dishes that went —loosely— under the name of dal-sabzi-roti. The last transcended `barely edible` and went vile, in strange shapes and stranger sizes, to boot.
A few years of this on a daily basis, and my husband decided money was well spent in hiring a cook the moment we were posted to a new station. And thusly, we lived on the culinary mercies of a passing parade of cooks, indifferent/terrible/good, by turns.
And in the interim, I taught myself to bake. Soon I was turning out spiffing chicken pies, three-cheeses soufflés, spinach ravioli, breads galore, cinnamon pulls, fruit tarts, cakes, et al. All this for dinner, mind you, because SK liked his lunch conventional: rice, roti, dal, sambar, sabzi, papad, raita.
Slow cut to recentish times. We come home to Bangalore for good, and move into our own apartment. Along comes neat and tidy, cheerful and motherly Pungodi, who takes under her wing not just the kitchen but SK and SK. (The Kid had been living away, from BP –Before Pungodi — times).
Quick cut to the present. Lockdown times, no Pungodi.
You really want the whole sorry story? Can I use a series of quick, descriptive terms instead? Like lousy lunches. Overcooked rice. Undercooked potatoes. Ye olde vile rotis. Tasteless dals. Oversalted sambar. Julienned ginger in the raita. Fish fried well on one side, burnt on the other. Endless scraping away at crusted pans. Head filled with dark and bitter thoughts.
Did someone say cooking is an art acquired with practice? Y`know what, it`s been thirty days since I`ve been turning hopefully to recipes proffered by concerned kith and kin. The quality of the end result retains its pitiful status quo…of old times.
This tale ends on an upbeat note, though. We are eating well at dinner-time. It`s gazpacho soup and chili con carne with homemade atta bread tonight.

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Oh, what an emotional reunion there will be, when we three meet again.

To my right, Kala, who makes a valiant effort at keeping my place clean, gives me the latest goss from her locality (which strangely spans the doings of Sasikala in Bangalore Jail, Kala`s mother-in-law and much denigration of rotating mops).

To my left, Pungodi, uber-cook, maker of `mazing meat dishes, maternal figure who realized long ago that this `maydum` is an epic flop in the kitchen, and so, took complete charge of the Kumar household.

 

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So, here`s your friendly neighbourhood (maybe that`s stretching it?!) culture-taster back in the summer of our discontent, with a Bardian shout-out.
This is for that sadly dwindling lot of people who revere good ole Will and his works…and please, don`t let`s debate who actually wrote those works!!
The Globe premiered HAMLET last week, it`s on till 20th, when it will give way for Romeo and Juliet.
The play underwhelmed me for all that the title character, played by Michelle Terry, current head of the Globe Theatre delivered a bravura performance. You didn`t for a minute wonder at a woman playing the melancholy prince of Denmark. But when Hamlet`s love interest Ophelia enters stage left, and it`s a strapping young Indian man, Shubham Saraf, you aren`t just taken aback at the tweak, you don`t much take to it…or at least, I didn`t. So yes, back in the day, Shakepeare`s women characters were essayed by men in drag. But why now?
Overall, the play lacked something. Then again, to quote the late, great WS: There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.So maybe it was just me and my jaundiced eye. ?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdPqu598m68&feature=youtu.be

 

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Did you catch this or did you catch this? Last night, 9.30 pm IST, `our band` was playing `our songs.`
Pink Floyd kicked off their Friday offerings to fans with the 1995 Pulse concert film.
The lunatic is on the grass/in the hall/ in my head, crooned Gilmour mournfully. But for one and a half-hours, we didn`t care where the lunatic was lurking. We were too busy trippin`. ?

                                                                       

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This lockdown is exhausting the life outa me.

After I finish the daily drudgery —cooking, applying hand cream, washing up, applying hand cream, washing clothes, applying hand cream, washing up in the sink again, applying you-know-what, sweeping/ swabbing/ loo-cleaning, washing up in the sink yet again, applying hand cream, making ghee outa milk cream every ten days (what can I say, I`m a driven kinda person!), checking on my sourdough starter every ten hours (I`ve joined an online sourdough breadmaking class), ironing a pile of clothing every few days — I gotta go check my social media threads, post sharp retorts to foolish comments thereon; join a webinar on Indian textiles; go on a `suth` of Milan and Lake Cuomo courtesy Rick Steves; check out what wildlife surfaced today at the Kruger Park sunrise/sunset safaris; check out my private birdlife show on my copper-pod tree; watch a Shakepeare play at the Globe; watch a cult musical or two; listen to stray renditions of songs by popular Indian singers; do a substantial amount of reading a book under review (50 pages per day, with notes alongside) in order to meet the deadline; watch a highly reccommended film every few evenings; read the book du jour; join my Tai Chi class on Zoom; listen to Pico Iyer talk on stillness and reflect that he clearly doesn`t have to do all I have to do….OMG, it`s a packed day/noon/evening/night.
And this is without enrolling for classes in playing the guitar/singing alto/doing the salsa/learning to code.
Who on earth has the time for that, I ask.

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The Duomo in Milan. A 14th Century cathedral that redefines stunning.
Andrea Bocelli. A man whose voice soared to the vaulted ceilings of that cathedral, then wound its way out across the deserted lanes of Milan.
Did you catch the Music for Hope show last night?
If not, watch a recording. And forget what assails us for a wonderful half-hour.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huTUOek4LgU

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Watching the OG story of faith, hope, despair, gullibility, love, betrayal and treachery, in a transfixed manner.
JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR is now streaming for 48 hours, link below.
Ben Forster as JC is, to me, a tad underwhelming but Tim Minchin makes a wonderfully poignant Judas Iscariot. And,OMG, the score, the score, the score!!! It was written by Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Tim Rice back in 1970, and fifty years later, it`s still GOOSEBUMPS.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpO4ohqx3os

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Friends, countrymen/wimmin, fellow inmates in our own personal prisons across the land: what is it that you miss MOST (person/place/activity/thing) in these days of lockdown?
  • Shashidhar Nanjundaiah My ergonomic swivel chair that I couldn’t afford at home 🙂
  • Shrikant Rao Outdoor Photography, dogs, and not finding a nice boulder to practice yoga the way the PM does. ????
  • Babu Vridhachalam My grandchildren. We were supposed to be there now
    • Leeza A. Harris – My Parents ?
      – Driving with my rock & roll music turned up LOUD ?
      • Pavithra Ratnakar Long drives. Meeting my mom. And importantly the feeling of freedom.
  • Theresa Varghese Home! Am away, Sheila.
  • Nina Rawal Meeting a friend for coffee/lunch, and then buying books together
  • Lina Krishnan Travellin’
  • Venita Coelho Writing in cafes
    • heila Kumar Now that makes for such a wonderful mental image…something like Simone Beauvoir in Cafe de Flore. Venita Coelho

    • Venita Coelho And what beautiful cafes we had in Goa to write in. Note the sad ‘had’!
  • Rita Ray Pandey Thanatos takes revenge on Sisyphus
  • Prathima Vasan My morning swim
  • Peggy Devaraj I miss the idea of having control over my life ?
  • Manjul Bajaj Missing nothing really for now, except my cleaning maid. Having fun with the rest. It’s all like a huge game – obstacles, accomplishment levels, rewards, punishments.
    • Dolly Bala I don’t miss anything Sheila.. Initially I missed my maid but now I realize there is no piling up of clothes to fold..I do it immediately a d put it in the closet..Vessels are not anymore in the sink.They are cleaned instantly…Bathrooms are cleaned daily ..Life seems to be fine except that i hv stopped my walking..Just waiting to start it again
  • Jeeva Anna George To be honest, I don’t want to keep soaking, drying, grinding and making flour of all gluten free grains/beans except for rice flour & ragi which are the only glutenfree flours available at present from brands I trust. Unfortunately most gf product manufacturers are small, spread across India and & dont have their own distribution network. All glutenfree products are labelled as non essential so no delivery carriers are taking up orders. Be it Amazon or any small or big courier service. Unfortunately lot of ingredients which would make life easy for us are not available right now. Manufacturers are saying there is stock but nobody is willing to transport it. Thankfully I am in a better position because I know how to make almost everything from scratch and in Bangalore so atleast whole grains are available (millets esp) but its really difficult for those in smaller cities & towns. They are saying distribution networks will improve but we have to wait and see. The amount of time I spend fixing meals is double of that I used to take pre lockdown. For now I just don’t want to feel chained to my kitchen. People are talking about how to battle boredom…here I am so tired by the end of the day? and there’s nothing much to show for it.
  • Kg Vijayakumaar I feel as if in Shangri-la the lost horizon, how do I take it? Lot of time for introspection and of course household chores. Thank you for asking
  • Nandita Coutinho I miss my monthly get aways to my parents’place
  • Natalie Pereira
    Natalie Pereira Love it, this is my home I refuse to think of it as a prison…
    I wonder what I may have felt, if this space was not mine. ?
  • Maya Menon I miss hugging friends I meet after a long time. ?
  • Arunima Singh I miss my group fitness classes the most and petting all the dogs!!! I don’t get to that anymore and I hate not being able to say hi to all the furry friends in the world ??‍♀️
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For a little over one hour, I was able to forget words like physical distancing, house arrest, Covid. Even the fact that my back has given out.

I`d never been able to watch the Roysten Abel production MANGANIYAR SEDUCTION, when it played in my city. Now the NCPA has gone live with an amaze array of their shows, and I caught the Manganiyars in action this evening.

Voices rising and falling melliflously, the foot-tapping rythm of many castanets in unison, the wail of the 17-string kamaicha…it was pure magic.

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This week, I`m not reviewing the book I just finished. It dates back to 2018 and just about everyone I know has already read this powerful and disturbing account of a young Mormon girl from a rigid survivalist family who didn`t step into a classroom till she was 17, then went on to graduate summa cum laude and do her PhD from Cambridge. Indeed, a paean to education.
What I am doing instead, is reproducing a passage from EDUCATED by Tara Westover. Penguin Books, that resonated deeply with me.
“On our first evening in Rome, we climbed one of the seven hills and looked out over the metropolis. Byzantine domes hovered over the city like rising balloons. It was nearly dusk; the streets were bathed in amber. It wasn’t the color of a modern city, of steel, glass and concrete. It was the color of sunset. It didn’t look real.“
I went online to scout pics of Rome in the sunset and was lost there for over an hour. At the end of it, I wanted to go down on my knees and give thanks that I`d visited the Eternal City and seen many of its splendiferous sights.
Bella Roma. Bella Italia. Hope you, as indeed all of us, can pick up the pieces and move on eventually.

                 

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IS LAUGHING FORBIDDEN DURING COVID TIMES? 

My take, in SubtleEdge, the Indus Books website.

Coronavirus times. Tough times. As the infection is sweeping across   country after country, toppling people, economies and virtually the world as we know it, it is being made clear to us that we need to recalibrate ourselves, our beliefs, our lifestyle.

But we also need to hold onto our sense of humour. There was a video recently doing the socmed rounds, which featured an angry doctor shouting at viewers for posting light-hearted takes on this wretched virus. Coronavirus is nothing to laugh about, he raged.

And that’s precisely the point. We know Covid-19 is nothing to laugh about. We know there`s no known cure yet for this extreme pneumonia, and that a vaccine is about a year and a half away. We know that China is reporting the return of the virus. We aren’t idiots and we know the news is all bad, as of now.

However, humour in perilous times is basically our vent-hole, our way of staying sane.

I personally know people spending their entire lockdown days watching old Kapil Sharma reruns. Some  others are watching Chaplin, Tom and Jerry cartoons, Priyadarshan comedies, the Golmaal series. Yet others are reading PG Wodehouse, one book per day. This is their release from the tight bands of tension that Covid-19 has wrapped around all of us.

So, Angry Doctor, cut us some slack. We need our sense of humour to thrive,  alongside our inner resources, our innate courage, our indomitable spirit. What cannot be avoided has to be endured. And laughed at.

 

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Social media is running amok with the kind of reports that belong in the Ripley`s Believe It Or Not columns of yesteryear.
* A haven`t-been-this-blue Yamuna at Kanlindi Kunj. Sorry folks, lotsa foam and muck still in the river.
* Whale sighting offshore at Bombay High. Sorry folks, it`s in the Java Sea off Indonesia that they are (often) spotted.
* A pair of grey hornbills on a balcony railing at Altamount Road, Mumbai. Apparently true, huzzah!
*A peackock on a car bonnet at Parsi Colony, Mumbai again. True, huzzah!
* The Dauladhars on magnificent display 213 kms away in Jalandhar, Punjab. No debunking yet, so huzzah again!
* Deer grazing in the open at the Sanjay Gandhi National Park in Borivali Mumbai. True.
* Olive Ridleys coming out to nest in the daytime at Ganjam, Odisha. Well, it IS after seven years that they are doing so but no link has been found between people-free beaches and ORs emerging by day.
* A pair of White-throated Kingfishers perching on a tree branch, miles away from water. True, true… because it was `my` copper pod tree and they seemed to be posing for me!
Suddenly, we`ve all turned wistful and desperate to believe that now we are locked up, fauna roams free and flora blooms wild.
We, the same lot that pollutes/destroys/corrupts everything and anything around us.
Epiphany, anyone?

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Grey Hornbills perched on a balcony railing in Altamount Road, Mumbai.

 

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3 April 2020, 11 am, perched on the Copper Pod Tree outside my window, a pair of white-throated Kingfishers. 

 

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Mumbai, end March 2020.

 

 

 

 

 

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A Streetcar named DesireAmadeuscheery postsCoimbatorecommunal riotscope strategyCoriolanuscoronaviruscovid-19Eeb Alley OooGillian AndersonGlobe Theatre at homeinvitations off the tablelockdown activitiesMozartNasirNational Theatre At HomeNational Theatre London playspandemicPeter ShafferShakespeare playssurvivalTamil filmThe Epic of Everest filmThe Merry Wives of Windsorthings to do/watch/listen to during lockdownTom Hiddleston

Sheila Kumar • March 28, 2020


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