Sunday, April 25, 2010

Lost in Translation

Ever wondered why the foreigners in Hindi films mangle the few Hindi words that they utter ? It’s because that’s how they are taught to utter them. Consider the gems below from a guidebook titled ‘Hindustani for the tourist – A Phonetic Phrase Book for Everyday Use’. Read the phonetic translations out loud to get the full flavour, do not miss the hyphens ‘which show the division of syllables in a word, where you should have a slight pause in your pronounciation’.

‘Kartik’ becomes ‘Car-tick’ ; ‘Kitne’ becomes ‘Kit-nay’.
‘Sawan’ becomes ‘Sah-won’, almost Japanese !
In a throwback to more polite times, “please” is translated as “meherbani karke” (what happened to ‘kripya’?), phonetically as “mayher-baanee kar-kay”.

In the ‘All About Yourself’ section, amongst sentences to befriend the locals are these two, “I am a bachelor” and “I weigh 82 kilos”, important if you are meeting a lot of good-looking young Indian women. Though they might be a bit confused after you utter these sentences, “ Maiyn Coohn-ara hoohn” and “May-rah wazan bay-ah-see kilo high”.

Consider a few sentences to be exchanged with the Dhobi (‘Doe-Bee’).
“Have these cleaned and pressed.” As we would say in Hindi, “Ye dho kar istri karo”. But this is phonetically translated as, “Ye doe kar isstree karo”.
“This is not clean.”
“Yah saaf nahin hai.”
Ya saaf na-heenh high.”
“Press these correctly.”
“Ye theek tarah se istri karo.”
Ye teak tarah se isstree karo,”
Really, ‘teak’ ?!

And which foreigner could survive in India without knowing how to speak to a shoemaker ? Hence the following :
“Can you make a pair of shoes for me ?”
“Tum mere liye joote banaa sakte ho?”
Toom may-ray lee-eh jootay bun-nah suck-tay ho ?”

Sample the howlers below which translate words correctly but get the meaning in this context absolutely wrong :
“Can you make a pair of heels ?”
“Tum eriyan bana sakte ho?”
“Toom ehri-yahn bun-nah suck-tay ho ?”
Some confusion between a shoemaker and a surgeon here !
“Have you got patent leather?”
“Tumhare paas koi achchha chamra hai?”
Toom-ha-ray pass ko-ee atch-chah chum-rah high ?”
Only if the shoe-maker moonlights as a pimp !

From questions included in the list of critical inquiries to be made before checking in at a hotel, one knows what the author of this book thinks of foreigners and their habits :
“Can I dine in shorts at lunch?”
“Main nekar pahan kar dopahar ka khana kha sakta hoon”
Maiyn nicker pahan-ker doe-pahar kah kah-nah kah suck-tah hoon?”
“Where is the bar?”
“Bar kidhar hai?”
“Bar kidder high ?”
“Is there a cabaret?”
“Idhar ‘cabaret’ hai ?”
“Iddar ‘cabaret’ high ?”
“Can I bring ladies to my room?”
“Auraton ko apne kamre mein la sakta hun ?”
“Ow-rut-ohn ko up-nay come-ray mayn lah suck-tah hoohn?”
I know some people describe women as a pain-in-the-ass, but ‘Ow-rut’ !

More of these next week, folks.
Zen.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Getting to Goa

A great way to begin a vacation in Goa is to travel by the Mandovi Express, a day train that travels along the Konkan Coast from Mumbai to Goa. While it may sound like a waste of a day, I discovered recently that it is actually the perfect bridge between a hectic work-week and a relaxed vacation, there is no way that you can rush around in the train and nothing much to do except savour the moment. The scenic route passes through hills, forests and assorted shrubbery, the clatter of the wheels and vibration of the carriage leaves one in the mood of childhood holidays – full of excitement and anticipation, especially with the added advantage of chilling in a thanda thanda cool cool A.C. compartment. The pantry car sends yummy food one’s way at regular intervals, dig in, for what is a holiday without over-eating ! For breakfast, don’t even bother with the usual bred-aamlit or bred- kutlit options, wait for the piping hot, fragrant medu wada, sabudana wada, methi bhajji and masala dosa to be brought your way.



K...A...N...K...A...V...A....L.....I...........S...T...A...T.....I....O...N


Tiny stations like Bhoke, Adavalli and Kankavali pass by. Against a backdrop of verdant greenery, a single narrow platform bordered with a fence painted a demure white but often draped with bright and boisterous bougainvillea flowers. A small white board with ‘Welcome’ written on it in red letters greets all who disembark. You realise how hot it is outside when you notice people using the taps placed at regular intervals on the platform. A young banana vendor, after he has worn himself out walking up and down the length of the train in the hot afternoon sun, sets his basket down by the tap and gulps down mouthfuls of water before splashing some on his face. The rivulets of sweat running down his face are replaced by large streams of water.

The train goes through a lot of tunnels – the route passes through difficult hilly terrain and is testimony to the engineering and organisation ability of E. Shreedharan, who is also known for building the Delhi Metro. This article from 1996 documents the difficulties faced in building this railway, while this and thiscelebrate its completion and the awarding of a Padma Vibhushan to E. Shreedharan.

On one section of hillside, I notice a wire mesh pushing back the rock walls – like a security barricade pushing back hordes of groupies when a film-star walks by. Well, why not, the Mandovi Express is no less than a star amongst other trains ! Suddenly this poem by Robert Frost pops into my head; how strong this wire mesh must be to hold back an entire hill full of boulders from smashing on to us !

Our train clatters past a patch with some barren fields bathed in the mellow four p.m. sun. The fields have clearly demarcated mud boundaries and resemble a patchwork quilt in shades of mud-brown and grass-green; except for one small plot which has a host of sunflowers nodding their yellow and brown heads sagely.

A few fields away my eye is drawn to a shiny undamaged auto, with no signs of human habitation or a road visible, wonder how it got there. The yellow and brown of the auto matches the sunflowers - quite a quirky tableau.

It makes me wonder about pretty-but-ruthless mutant sunflowers that start their campaign for world domination by stealing autos for travelling in; resolve to look out of the window and investigate the next time I hear an auto bleating ‘praap praap’ at night. Then resolve not to eat so much chicken biriyani for lunch – all the oxygen seems to have rushed to my stomach, starving my brain of vital oxygen needed to fuel logic and reasoning.

Two hours later, I alight at Karmali station in Goa, which recently won an award from the Union Tourism Ministry as ‘the most tourist friendly station’ (see this article and this one) . Set in the middle of verdant greenery, it has a natural lake on one side of the platform. On the side of the platform opposite the lake is the Station building which is low, long and has a tiled roof with a structure like the bell tower of a cathedral in the centre.

K...A...R...M...A....L.....I...........S...T...A...T.....I....O...N




One platform has regular street lamps on it, the other has lamps in old-fashioned quaint shapes. The lake has a lot of ducks and other water birds; when I alight in the evening, they are quacking and cheeping away – a good omen for a birding trip.

It totally convinced me that my last minute decision to dash down to Goa and join friends on a bird-watching trip was the right one.

By,
Zen

p.s. This blog has a very nice account of a train journey through Goa

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

London Symphony Orchestra Experience

11th April 2010
Enigma Indeed !

Last weekend, the London Symphony Orchestra was in Mumbai after almost half a century. I was most excited as I walked up the stairs in NCPA, It was always a treat to watch a music concert at the main auditorium. The acoustics are amongst the best here and there is something grand about the place that makes me feel special and important! The only thing that did not quite live up to expectations that evening was the cold coffee and chicken sandwiches. Don’t know why, it just didn’t taste all that fabulous!

The conductor was Sir Colin Davis and the orchestra was playing Edward Elgar and Hector Berlioz. Have watched a few shows here before – sometimes Chamber music, at times the Philharmonic Orchestra and this time it was the Symphony Orchestra. In case you’re curious to understand the difference between the three, Philharmonic and Symphony differ in scale (much larger, usually musicians in excess of fifty) from the Chamber music. The difference between Philharmonic and Symphony is interesting, the names don’t signify any difference in the makeup of the orchestra or the way they are governed, but to distinguish the different groups playing within a city, so for example the London Philharmonic and London Symphony Orchestra.

As I traveled the one hour from home to NCPA, I was pondering over who they would play (yep, I didn’t know), was guessing between Bach, Beethoven and Schubert. After buying the brochure for a princely sum of hundred rupees at the entrance I impatiently flipped to the concert details and found Edward Elgar and Hector Berlioz were the two composers being played that night. Nice, had not heard much of Elgar and never heard Berlioz before and certainly never at a live concert.

Sir Colin Davis was the Orchestra Conductor. (he is the president of the LSO as well). When I was young I thought the conductor had an easy job just standing and waving a matchstick like structure in the air. My respect grew with experience and knowledge about all the preparation that goes into getting the orchestra to sound like it does. Easy test that I still do every time I attend a concert like this is to shut my eyes and listen for a while. It is absurd how a hundred people can be orchestrated to sound like a single strain of music when your eyes are shut and all you’re doing is listening intently. Worth trying out.

Having seats in the front of the auditorium does make a difference! Of course the acoustics and therefore sound quality differs based on where one sits but what really made a difference to the experience was being able to see the interchange between the conductor and his ensemble in the few moments that he turned to each side. There would be an instant connect with a smile, mutual encouragement I surmised (that reminded me of the way musicians connect in a jugalbandhi in an eastern classical concert) . The difference was he was controlling the subtle elements of music like the tempo and dynamics of the music with a flourish of his arm. As Sir Colin Davis’ baton meted out artistic directions to about seventy talented musicians, Edward Elgar’s ‘Enigma’ was coming alive!

British, Elgar was a product of the Victorian era, an unquestionably skilled composer and whilst Elgar’s compositions have not traveled as wide as other composers, ‘Enigma’ was undoubtedly the composer’s breakthrough masterpiece.

The story about Enigma goes like this. Post returning home one evening, after giving violin lessons, Elgar sat down at the piano and, to unwind, began improvising. Alice, his wife commented favorably on the tune that emerged and Elgar responded by playing it in ways that suggested how some of their friends might play it. Out of that spontaneous exchange was born the Enigma Variations, the work that analyzes the personalities of his family and friends. What improvisation !

In all, fourteen people (including his wife, an old flame, himself and a dog) are featured in the Variations. No wonder it is referred to as an orchestral suite at times. In Elgar’s words “it expressed when written (1898) my sense of the loneliness of the artist… and to me it still embodies that sense.”

As if to reflect his words I found the music elusive and subtle, at times perplexing and always riveting. It starts with the melancholic and self doubting feel that reflected the artist’s mood but as the journey continues you can hear the ambition come through as the triumph of the artist’s soul builds up in the final rendition named ‘Edu’ (name that his wife fondly called him by). Amongst the composers I have heard (am no authority), the intensity and loudness of the music was different and showed the intensity of the composer. What is also true is that the loneliness never leaves the music and you can hear it as the Orchestra plays on from one Variation to the next.

The concept I found charming, about the core of the artist’s soul that cannot be reached. At the same time, the warmth and friendliness of some of the themes reflecting the close personal relationships and exchanges he shared with his friends and fellow musicians, at times discussing Beethoven (‘Nimrod’, one of the nicest Variations) or about his pensive, romantic viola player friend in ‘Ysobel’ or ‘Romanza’ that is the memory of a love lost and still yearned for.

I so enjoyed myself, surrendering to the Variations. Letting myself flow along with the mood and feel of every composition, it was somewhat like a roller coaster ride. Over a hundred years after, he carried me along the journey, (and I’m sure many in the audience including my neighbor who was in a trance like condition furiously playing notes in the air) of his varying moods. Best of all, I caught myself smiling quietly many times, that to me is the power of what brilliant music can do! And of course Edward Elgar’s Enigma was no less!

By,
soma ghosh.

Friday, April 09, 2010

Grocery Shopping Abroad

When I travel to a new place on holiday, I often like to fancy that I’m staying there as opposed to just travelling through. The thing that helps me to get into living-there fantasy is to walk down to a grocery shop near where I stay and buy groceries. Behind the wheels of a shopping cart, I can pretend I’m a local, i.e. anyone from here, i.e. anyone in the know to buy sensibly and not get fleeced like the ignorant tourists.

The important thing is that the buying must be for something I will need to use immediately and not just shopping-for-back-home. Usually it’s for things that go into or along with a sandwich – bread, cheese, maybe a bit of meat or some local fruit. Of course, there is nothing like buying cleaning material – nothing that quite as well cements the fact that you are putting down some roots, however small. But, well, if I’m staying at a hotel it’s quite unlikely that I will need to get those.

It isn’t that I don’t like to eat at restaurants, not at all. I usually plan my holidays around where and what we will eat. It’s this fact that dictates that I often need to eat one meal light for the sake of my stomach and also my pocket. So having my own stash of groceries in the car or hotel fridge makes helps me feel more settled.

And then there is the sheer joy of grocery shopping. Even under normal circumstances, I love scouting about the racks for my everyday at-home grocery getting. But when abroad, this takes on even more delicious intensity. I am an explorer amongst row after row of less familiar brand names, fruit and dairy products. Thrilling at every discovery of stuff I’ve only ever seen on TV or read about in books. Or even better, finding familiar brands that cost 10 times more back home. I spend wistful minutes in the exotic (but local for there, you see) spice aisle, while putting together earthy pot roasts, hearth warming stews and such in my head. They always turn out fragrantly delicious and my friends and family have tears in their eyes at my nourishing brilliance. Fortunately, I don’t have a kitchen right there or the time when I’m back home, to see these dreams come crashing down to earth. I blink and move on. Onward to the ready-to-eat sections where I can appease my gatherer instincts. Happy minutes at the yoghurt aisle, looking through the different flavours, ditto for the Crisps and Beverages and Instant Soup . Flavours I’ve never imagined, and they must all be tried!

Naturally, every so often, amidst the entire delightful discovery there is also the occasional revolting mistake. But that’s what hotel bins are made for. And then there are times like when we bought a piece of wrapped up durian and left it for over an hour in a parked car! a bad disaster like that could even call for buying cleaning material…and I’m back in my imagined paradise.

There is, of course, the ultimate reward to all my shenanigans at the grocery shop. Later, at some ancient fort miles in the country I can gloat silently at the persecuted tourists who are milling about the only (and expensive) food stall eating fried dangly bits of heaven knows while we dig in to all our lovely food. In truth, this hasn't happened yet, but sooner or later it will and when it does I will be prepared.

By,
Nafisa

Friday, April 02, 2010

Fatitude

I love to eat. Nowadays, I Eat like a horse
This is telling on my waistline of course.
My brain thinks I’m pregnant and it’s putting up a fight
Its sending signals all over, to boost my appetite.
It’s working on growing the little mite in my tum
That’s no baby, dolt brain, but a cream filled bun.
But the tum is growing I know that much
From all the dimsums, fried jalapenos, chocolate and such.
The shirts are a stretch, I see skin ‘tween the buttons
And the trousers are pretty close, they’re just about shuttin.
The gnawing pangs get worse with the frantic swimming
The universe conspires to keep me more brimming than slimming.

By,
Nafisa