Life in Four Continents by Prakash Joshi

Since I work for a newspaper, I get all kinds of emails, including releases of new fiction and non-fiction books. Unfortunately, I can’t write about them because my newspaper is as far removed from the world of fiction as India is from a corruption-free society. The paper reports extensively on construction and infrastructure projects in India and the domestic and foreign investment that goes into
their build.

Never mind – my paper’s loss is my blog’s gain.

Yesterday, I received an email from iUniverse, a self-publishing imprint based in Bloomington, Indiana, USA, drawing my attention to Prakash Vinod Joshi’s new book Life in Four Continents where the author describes the lessons he learnt living in Asia, Africa, Europe, and North America. It’s a journey across four continents written with “a sense of humor often needed when everything else seems to go awry.”

“I am proud of my new country, Canada; proud of my heritage, Indian; proud of the country of my birth, Uganda,” writes Joshi, who tells readers of his “honest experiences touching the lives of several people across the globe wanting to help readers improve their lives and preserving the planet for the future generations to come.”

I can’t review the book since I have not read it but here is a small excerpt that came with the release.

“My single parenting days were most joyous and I would never trade them for anything else. I had now moved on my own with Ronak and Milan to our old home which was very close to my work, just two minutes away. Life became busy. It meant getting up early, around 5:00 a.m., getting ready, waking up the kids at six-thirty and doing a paper route. We would then come home, have breakfast and get them ready, pack their lunch, drop them at the babysitter who would drive them to nearby Parkcrest Elementary School at 9:00 a.m.” 

Life in Four Continents was written with a simple purpose, to give readers a new found sense of hope, and teach them to have a positive attitude towards life with the simple message of “Doing things the right way, the first time around, to avoid repeating mistakes, and to take advantage of other’s forgiveness.”

Prakash Vinod Joshi lives in Vancouver, Canada with his wife, Darshana. They have three children, Ronak, Tejaswini and Milan.

You can read more about Prakash Vinod Joshi at US-India Writing Station.

Scram! (1932)

The following review of Scram! is part of Tuesday’s Overlooked/Forgotten films over at Todd Mason’s blog Sweet Freedom where you can check out lots of exciting film and television reviews.

Judge: If the jail wasn't full, I'd give you both 180 days, but since the jail is full, I'm going to give you just one hour.
Oliver Hardy: Thank you, sir.
Judge: To get out of town! And never let me set eyes on you again! Case dismissed.
Stan Laurel: Does that mean we can go back to sleeping on the park bench?

The scowling Richard Cramer in Scram!

Laurel delivers this gem of a line in all innocence. While the judge’s harsh pronouncement ricochets off Laurel’s affable face, the enormity of the situation is not lost on friend Hardy, who is equally innocent but slightly cleverer of the two.

The two lovable vagrants are hauled up before Judge Beaumont (Richard Cramer), a mean judge with a screwed up face, who orders them to get out of town in one hour.

Judge: Scram! Or I'll build a jail for you.

As the homeless duo make their way through rain on a cold night, they come across a drunk in tuxedo (Arthur Housman) who is looking for his car keys. Laurel and Hardy, ever willing to lend a hand, help the drunk retrieve his keys. The search for the elusive keys is not without the usual share of slapstick comedy and a cop is thrown in for good measure. There’s always one or two lurking around the pair. 

A stone drunk Arthur Housman with Laurel and Hardy.

Oliver Hardy: What's the matter, neighbour?
Drunk: I los' the key to my car.
Stanley Laurel: Can you find it?
Drunk: No, thas' why I'm lookin'...

The drunk returns the favour by inviting the boys over to his house, except he takes them to the wrong house. You guessed it! The poor chaps land up in the angry judge’s home where his wife (Vivien Oakland) faints at the sight of Laurel and Hardy. The unsuspecting pair revive Mrs. Beaumont with a glass of water from a pitcher, except it turns out to be gin (the handiwork of the drunk who has quietly stumbled his way out of the house). 

Vivien Oakland forces Hardy to a dance.

Now the poor fellas have a very drunk judge’s wife on their hands. Although Laurel and Hardy don’t know who her husband is, they are aware of the delicate situation and, in desperation, try putting her to sleep. Not one to quieten down easily, Mrs. Beaumont plays music and insists on dancing with the boys who by now are too frightened to even think of their fate should her husband walk in. 

At last, the judge’s wife plops on her bed with Laurel and Hardy on either side. Just as they think it’s the end of their troubles, Mrs. Beaumont explodes into inexplicable fits of laughter that’s so infectious that it catches Laurel and Hardy too. The comic duo laugh their guts out until suddenly, as they are about to have another bout of laugh, they see Judge Beaumont standing in the doorway, a dirty scowl on his face and a gun in his hand. One after the other, they swallow hard – gulp! The judge raises his hand and fires…

 
You don’t mind what happens in the end because, by then, you’re rolling with laughter too. 

Produced by Hal Roach and directed by Raymond McCarey, Scram! is exactly as the title suggests. But Laurel and Hardy don’t scram out of town. Instead, they stay put without realising the consequences of their action. Blame it on their innocence which, as I have said before, is what Laurel and Hardy is all about. Here are two amiable and happy-go-lucky fellas whose optimistic view of life, in spite of being perennially broke, hungry and homeless, never changes. The world according to Laurel and Hardy is a world you would do well to live by.

Do you have a hobby?

“Do you have a hobby?” is probably the most annoying question that well-meaning uncles and aunts ask their teenage nephews and nieces. They asked me when I was a kid. I don’t recall being irritated, though. My parents probably asked the same silly question. I don’t know if it annoyed my cousins. I’m sure it did.

Flamingo Library was located in the foyer of Hotel Sona.

At times, their cursory interest in my hobbies, after I had revealed them, stretched to: “Oh, so you play chess, do you?” And you know what’s coming next. “Do you think you could teach my son? I will send him over every Sunday morning. I want him to cultivate at least one hobby. Thanks, uh.”

Indulging in a hobby is time spent gainfully so long as you’re enjoying yourself. There’s never a dull moment. For me, hobbies are primarily about passion, creativity, private space, and personal fulfillment.

I had many hobbies and nearly every one of them was introduced to me by my father, hobbies like pouring over his assorted collection of stamps and creating my own album, playing chess or scrabble with him in marathon sessions that often lasted morn to eve, buying and reading comic-books, solving crosswords and jigsaw puzzles together, and drawing and painting everything from abstract to still life.

Speaking of chess, I spent a lot of time playing with Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky during my teens. That is, replaying their games from the controversial 1972 world chess championship at Reykjavik in Iceland.

Between these simple pleasures of childhood, we played cricket at home, with a wooden bat and a tennis ball, using a part of the door as stumps; took potshots at small wooden puppets with a ping-pong ball gun, keeping points, five for every hit; or played table tennis across the dining table, with a stick balanced delicately on two inverted glasses serving as a net. 

Leafing through the dictionary for strange words and their strange meanings and using latitudes and longitudes to locate mysterious cities and towns in a world atlas were other useful pastimes that helped shape my growing years.

A rather silly pursuit was book cricket: you flipped the pages and stopped at random, the page numbers on the left serving as scores. We even drew up eleven-member rival teams, each a famous cricketer. It doesn’t make sense now, but it did back then. At least you didn’t sweat it out or injure yourself.

During my seventy-five day summer vacation, my friends and I, bored playing outdoor games in hot sun, would pick up books and comic-books from the local circulating library and take turns reading them during the week. We, thus, read the entire hardbound Hardy Boys series from the popular Flamingo Library located in the foyer of Hotel Sona in the idyllic and sleepy town of Panjim, the capital of the beautiful coastal state of Goa, a favourite destination among foreign tourists. 

Childhood was never better. It still isn’t. What was yours like?


How others look at hobbies…

“The only insult I've ever received in my adult life was when someone asked me, "Do you have a hobby?" A HOBBY?! DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING DABBLER?!”
― John Waters, Role Models, American filmmaker, actor and stand-up comedian

A hobby a day keeps the doldrums away.
― Phyllis Mcginley, American author of children's books and poetry

It's the safety valve of middle life, and the solace of age.
― Mary Roberts Rinehart, American writer, often called the American Agatha Christie

Respect Your National Anthem,

Respect Your Nation

On Friday, February 10, I posted a video of India’s Silent National Anthem. Today, I am posting another one called Respect the National Anthem, an award-winning ad. I hope you will click on “Play” and watch both the videos. I have a feeling you will like them. They have touched a lot of non-Indian hearts on YouTube. 

For Tuesday’s Forgotten/Overlooked films, don’t forget to visit Todd Mason’s blog Sweet Freedom.

The Silent National Anthem 

All of us feel that the national anthem of our own country is the best in the world. We rise to our feet every time the anthem is played and we beam with pride every time we listen to it. No other song gives more goose bumps than the national anthem. How many of us remember other national anthems of the world? I have heard America’s The Star-Spangled Banner on a few occasions but I wouldn’t be able to hum a line if you asked me to. And why should I? I have my own anthem and it's better than yours!

India’s national anthem – Jana, Gana, Mana – is, arguably, one of the finest. It was composed and set to music by Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore, the renowned writer, poet, musician, playwright, and spiritual preceptor. Although Tagore originally wrote it in Bengali in 1911 and later translated it into English, the anthem was adopted by the Constituent Assembly as the Indian national anthem on January 24, 1950. Jana, Gana, Mana means “Thou art the ruler of the minds of all people, Dispenser of India's destiny…” You will find a nice piece about the anthem here.

Over the years the Indian national anthem has been scored and sung in a hundred different ways, and it’s hard to pick any one. My own favourite is The Silent National Anthem created by Mudra Group on the occasion of India’s 61st Republic Day, which falls on January 26 every year. August 15 is our independence day. This beautiful version of the anthem is played in all BIG Cinemas, a division of entertainment group Reliance MediaWorks, minutes before a film rolls. Some years ago, the federal government made it mandatory for all movie theatres to play the national anthem before the start of the film. It’s a goose bumpy feeling if there’s ever one inside a cinema hall.

Check it out below and tell me exactly what you felt, though don't I know that feeling already.

R.I.P. Sharada Dwivedi, 1942-2012

On February 6, Bombay (now known as Mumbai) lost one of its most important denizens — Sharada Dwivedi — who spent a lifetime chronicling and conserving the city's historic building and architectural heritage. The 69-year old genteel urban historian died after a brief illness.

Dwivedi, who completed her schooling from Queen Mary's High School, graduated from Sydenham College of Commerce and Economics, and took a degree in Library Science from the University of Mumbai, wrote several books including Bombay: The Cities Within (1995), her first, with noted historian and architect Rahul Mehrotra.

Some of her other notable books were Banganga, Sacred Tank (1996), Fort Walks (1999), Anchoring a City Line: The History of the Western Suburban Railway and its Headquarters in Bombay (2000), The Jehangir Art Gallery (2002), and The Victoria Memorial School for the Blind (2002). Each traced the rich and vibrant heritage of these historic buildings. 

Dwivedi, who often fought politicians to preserve Bombay's heritage, was involved in several conservation projects and served as a member of the Mumbai Heritage Conservation Committee. She was also a member of the Executive Committee of the Urban Design Research Institute and a consultant to the Bombay Collaborative, which works with historic buildings in the city. 

If Bombay owes its historic buildings and monuments to the British, it owes their preservation to Sharada Dwivedi.

Seat of Learning: The Rajabai Clock Tower located within the Fort Campus (headquarters) of the University of Mumbai was designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott, an English architect, who modelled it on London's Big Ben. The 85-metre tall landmark in south Bombay was built in 1878. 
Photo: Prashant C. Trikannad

A Passage to India (1984)

A Passage to India is my contribution this week to Tuesday's Overlooked/Forgotten Films at Todd Mason’s blog. You will find lots of interesting film and television reviews over there.

English novelist E.M. Forster (1879-1970) wrote A Passage to India in 1924 and, sixty years later, British filmmaker David Lean (1908-1991) made it into a successful film. It was his last. The film owes its success to Forster’s personal experience of India during the British Raj as much as it does to Lean’s keen writing and directorial sense.

For instance, Lean has captured, quite appropriately, the nationalistic, and often irrational, fervour and sentiment of the Indian people outraged by the arrest of a young doctor on charges of molesting an English woman. Set in 1920s, during the height of the freedom movement, the accusation is perceived as yet another racist attack by the imperialist British against an “innocent” countryman. A case of rubbing salt into the wound… 

A Passage to India is the story of Dr. Aziz H. Ahmed, a widower, played by the seasoned character-actor Victor Banerjee, who unwittingly endears himself to a young woman named Adela (Judy Davis) and her future mother-in-law Mrs. Moore (Peggy Ashcroft). The two women from England wish to see the real India with an unprejudiced eye and ask Aziz to take them on a sightseeing trip to the Marabar Caves, a fictional place. Overcome by claustrophobia during the trip, Mrs. Moore excuses herself and insists the two proceed without her.

When Aziz and Adela, escorted by a lone guide, reach the caves on top of a hill, the doctor excuses himself briefly to have a quiet smoke behind a rock. As Adela awaits his return, she ventures into one of the caves and soon begins to get a distorted feeling within the dark and foreboding interior. Aziz returns to the spot to find Adela missing. He peers into the cave and calls out her name frantically. Though she can see him standing in the sunlit entrance to the cave, she remains silent. He can’t see her in the pitch darkness. As Aziz moves away to look for her elsewhere, Adela emerges from the cave and runs blindly down the hill to the road below where she is “rescued” by another English woman and taken to the hospital. Adela is shivering and is disoriented, and has cuts all over her body. 

Judy Davis, Victor Banerjee and Peggy Ashcroft in the film.

The story begins when Adela accuses Aziz of attempted rape and the physician is promptly arrested and placed on trial. The action shifts to the court where a bespectacled and harried Indian judge presides over the case in the presence of a trio of lawyers for the defendant, McBryde (Michael Culver), the police inspector and public prosecutor, and a room filled with English men and women waiting for Aziz to be sentenced. Outside, there is complete pandemonium as a huge crowd of angry Indians push back the khakhi-clad policemen in a violent effort to storm the court.

In the end, Adela takes the stand, looks up hesitantly, and finds Aziz glowering at her. And that’s as far as I’m going with this review. No spoilers.

© www.openlibrary.org

Of the cast Judy Davis as Adela is not very convincing while the elderly Peggy Ashcroft as Mrs. Moore raises the bar with her grace and quiet elegance. Victor Banerjee does well as the bearded Dr. Aziz Ahmed with a talkative and an emotional disposition. He has a formidable reputation in parallel cinema as opposed to the commercial films dished out by the Indian film industry every year.

Apart from Aziz and the two English women, there are two other notable characters— Richard Fielding (James Fox), superintendent of the local school, the only Englishman who believes his friend Aziz is innocent, and Prof. Godbole (Alec Guinness), an elderly Brahmin scholar who wears a turban and looks at everything with an indifferent eye. “My philosophy is you can do what you like... but the outcome will be the same,” he tells Fielding.

As I said at the beginning, Lean has made this film the way an Indian director would have made it, particularly in terms of the mood and emotion of the people, the summer sun that breathes hot and humid air down your neck, the sudden downpour that takes a suited and booted Richard Fielding by surprise, and the rustic landscape of the countryside, little details that enrich the film.

A Passage to India, which is true to Forster’s novel, does justice to both, the Indians and the British, and therein lies its appeal.


A few interesting facts… 

David Lean has made ambitious films based on several famous books like The Greatest Story Ever Told by Fulton Oursler; Dr. Zhivago by Boris Pasternak; Lawrence of Arabia, based on the life of T.E. Lawrence; The Bridge on the River Kwai by French author Pierre Boulle; One Woman's Story by H.G. Wells; and Oliver Twist and Great Expectations by Charles Dickens.

Peggy Ashcroft, the legendary English actress, was made a Dame of the British Empire by Queen Elizabeth II in 1956. She won an Academy Award and Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress, and a BAFTA Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role.

A Passage to India was nominated for 11 Academy Awards (won two), 5 Golden Globe (won three), and 9 BAFTA Awards (won one), all including Peggy Ashcroft.

Five of David Lean’s movies appeared in the top 30 (three of them in the top five) in a list of 100 favourite British films of the 20th century compiled by the British Film Institute in 1999.