voices in a gray room

the Buruas

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 10:40:00 +0000

Many thanks to Gangaram, the village secretary for letting me stay with his family and Ami Vitale for helping me edit this photo-essay.

Girish Kasarvalli, Part 2

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 17:26:00 +0000

Girish Kasarvalli talks Karanth, Part 1

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 18:51:00 +0000

This has been a long pending post, recorded in Jan 2009. Acclaimed Kannada director Girish Kasarvalli talks about another legend of Kannada theatre and cinema, BV Karanth.

David Selvaraj at Vishtar

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 05:46:00 +0000

David Selvaraj ponders at the bottom of the empty 60-year old well which now hosts theatre plays. Besides being passionate about theatre David is a part of Visthar, an organization that attempts to educate and rehabilitate children of Devdasis through a programme called Bandhavi which includes rescue of girl children and advocacy.

'We can never really understand the pain that they go through however much we try' he says, 'we can only help them to our abilities'.

From the 'The Theatre Issue', Time Out Bengaluru
October 31- November 13 2008.
All rights reserved © Vivek M / Paprika Media

B V Doshi, II

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Sat, 03 Jan 2009 18:16:00 +0000

photograph by Lavannya

Doshi talks about sounds, sustainability (again) and design.

The Tiger chair that BVD talks about

BV Doshi, Part I

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Sat, 03 Jan 2009 08:43:00 +0000

BV Doshi in a short conversation when we met him in Udaipur during Diwali.

Maya Rao

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 07:14:00 +0000

Dr Maya Rao at the Natya Institute of Kathak and Choreography.

I always love to feel susceptible to a strong aura, especially when it comes from a great personality like Maya Rao. I stood watching the genuine respect and affection that people around her showered her with and as an ordinary soul I felt immensely fortunate to even have a little conversation in private with her.

Her simplicity and humility made my eyes moist and I did not know anything more appropriate than to touch her feet to seek her blessing.

All rights reserved © Vivek M / Paprika Media

Sudha's world

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 03:43:00 +0000

from the series 'Patients with Multiple Sclerosis'

Dr Adenwalla

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 17:24:00 +0000

Dr Adenwalla is a plastic surgeon who specializes in fixing cleft lips and palates. He lives in Thrissur.

Coast, Cambay

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 13:19:00 +0000

Dr NH Wadia

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 05:41:00 +0000

Dr NH Wadia is one of the first neurosurgeons in the country. He lives in Bombay.

Gavipuram

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 05:05:00 +0000

Gangadhareeshwara Temple

Vanishing Sea

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 04:14:00 +0000

Nights at Russel Market

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 13:58:00 +0000

A Prayer

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 17:30:00 +0000

An inmate prays at the Home of Hope

Sharavathy Valley

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 05:25:00 +0000

Listening to the orchestra of a rainy night in the Sharavathy Valley after a tiring trek...

The trek in the Valley:

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

04.

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 14:12:00 +0000

03.

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 04:07:00 +0000

a temple on the hill

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Sun, 10 Aug 2008 18:46:00 +0000

a temple on the hill
telling stories
as you sit beside

tales of ancient winds
and the darkest clouds

of kindness
born out of devotion
and of love
torn by civilization

of an odd child
who seeked a litte time
away from home.

a hill, a moment

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 16:27:00 +0000

skies turn gray and head my way
the waiting
puddles have dried
in the warmth of the hill

Portrait of a neighbour

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 17:44:00 +0000

'Its a new place', she says, very different from the green valley that surrounds my home in Coorg. The tarmac ain't even but the street dogs are friendly and there are still vacant spaces for a game after school. I prefer to go dancing in the evening than take tuitions at Meera aunty's. But I join her later to talk to friends and finish my homework.

The streets feel deserted at night. The lights dont reach the ground because of the honge trees. There is always a strange feeling that something else existed here.

Unfamiliar 1.

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 18:14:00 +0000

of trinkets lost
on dried river bed

a longing to fetch
but a fear of water
that has befriended the drizzle

a hazy outline of a ficus
mature and motherly
who promises to wait
until she returns.

Ulsoor morning

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 18:45:00 +0000

3 August 2008.

It was a morning of pleasant surprises at every turn as I lazily strolled through the narrow streets of Ulsoor wanting to feel lost. The thresholds were just washed and a few hurried rangolis drawn, the heavy teak doors left slightly ajar expecting the milkman perhaps, little noise except that of the radio and the sweet aromas of an early morning breakfast flooding the streets. Cramped in between well inhabited two storey narrow residential towers were homes that had seemed to have given up- the mud plaster had melted exposing the thin ancient bricks, tiles that no longer held symmetry, faded name plates of the past occupants and doors that were heavily chained to keep off the nosy passer-by.

Train Diary: One

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 19:08:00 +0000

20th May 2008

1.
Yet again the gentle rocking of the train lullabies me into myriad fantasies that my dreamy eyes and a vacant mind conspire as I slouch next to the window. Memories of a forgotten childhood stride past, demurely pausing to bring a faint smile at the whiff of an innocent pleasure or a sigh at being reminded of forlorn times. The bleak landscape of the Indian heartland speeds past behind the tinted glass- the real past seamlessly coalescing with the fictional future intoxicating the moment, and making me pleasurably delirious.

2.
A solitary acacia survives the melting heat of the afternoon in a divinely placid stance. A country tiled home, still, and surviving on a highland begs to narrate a tale of love, loss and treachery while an ox cart on the stark black tarmac creeping towards it suggests that it is inhabited, disappointedly. The sun baked granite dominating the landscape forces the train into a cautionary pace. As human habitation gets denser signs of the unknown town punctuates the landscape inspired fantasies- the first thing that appears is a brightly painted orange shrine under a neem tree, a bicycle parked next to it and women enjoying an early afternoon siesta in their breezy porticos. Children playing ball, children returning home with the yellow school bags dancing crazily on their backs.

3.
Dried river beds parched and desolate with no sign of animal or human passes by- veins of grooved earth testifies a river sometime in the past. It is soon forgotten by the sight of a lone dwelling daring to survive where little hope exists. Undulating landscapes of burnt sienna and sombre browns intercepted by silhouettes of leafless vegetation with occasional tread marks of bicycles penetrating through them. This is often the space that I would have dreamt of, of straying away aimlessly looking for life yet longing that the marsian moment never ceases.

The year was 1935...

drvivekm@gmail.com (Vivek M) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 08:53:00 +0000

Col. Sundaram talks about his days in Bangalore...