A decade in Toronto - 16

First photograph at our new home on 09/03/13
We moved on 13/03/13

Before I move on to 2013, I must record a few important occurrences of 2012.

The sudden rise of Christine Sinclair, Canada’s woman footballer, who made Canada proud in the London Olympics, is definitely one of them. I also began to follow with some seriousness the National Hockey League, and Maple Leafs perennially depressing performance.

On the suggestion of Naval Bajaj, with whom I’ve had an on-again, off-again sort of friendship, I stopped the consumption of alcohol till recently when I restarted having red wine (Shiraz) which is a small concession that I’ve allowed myself. In 2013, again on his suggestion, I turned vegetarian. And a few years later, I made a concession – salmon. So, red wine and salmon are quite evidently, my weaknesses.

The year (2012) was memorable also because the Indo-Canada Chamber of Commerce (ICCC) was awarded the prestigious Pravasi Bharatiya Samman Award – it was an immensely proud moment for all of us at the Chamber.  Anurag Kashyap’s phenomenal Gangs of Wasseypur was released and changed the paradigm of popular cinema. 

The most traumatic event was the gang rape of a young woman in Delhi, who subsequently died in a hospital in Singapore. Nirbhaya, as she was named, became a symbol of all that is wrong with India (A swivel moment in India’s history), and galvanised people into action even in Canada, when Yogesh Sharma organised a community meeting to raise awareness and register a protest.

The role and the presence of the indigenous people in the making of Canada’s past, present and future is a topic that newcomers seldom give the attention it deserves. But 2012 saw the sudden rise in the Idle No More movement that focused on the rights of the indigenous people.

Attawapiskat Chief Theresa Spence went on a fast unto death to demand the rights of the indigenous people. John Ralston Saul’s A Fair Country argues that Canadian identity is more indigenous than European.  Read the blog on the subject: Idea of Canada.

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2013 was another eventful years for us. In March 2013, we moved into our new home at Gibson Avenue in York. Che discovered it. We’d been on the lookout for a new home for some time, because we’d mentally outgrown the two bedroom apartment at Keele and Lawrence West. The new house was (is) a stacked townhouse on two levels (it’s my first home with a staircase) and has become a home.

In many ways, it reminds me of my home in Teli Gali, where I grew up and lived for nearly three decades. The complex is truly multicultural, with many ethnicities cohabitating. The best part of the new home is the study that has become my room. Each of us has a room – our own private space. It’s essential, as anyone who’s lived in cramped spaces, will understand.  

The strangest part of moving in the new home was the silence. I’d lived at busy traffic intersections all my life, and this house, while not far from a busy thoroughfare, was still a bit inside. Except for the sound of the refrigerator, the house became so silent that I could actually hear myself breathe. That, if you’ve experienced it ever, can be eerie initially. Both Mahrukh and I worked together to make this dream possible. Read my blog about our new home here: A New Home.

But life is always a mix of the good and the bad. Soon after we’d moved into the new home, Che was mugged by a group of schoolchildren, not much older than him. The incident occurred just outside our home, and the group of boys snatched his bag, his handheld gaming device and roughed him up. Che was traumatized, as was Mahrukh. They called me at work and I rushed home. 

We called the cops but nothing came out of it. We were scared and even contemplated moving back to the apartment. Che, who’d been going through a rough time at school, was so disturbed that he couldn’t focus on his studies. All these occurrences intensified his anxiety syndrome and affected him mentally.

Che's first shave

But he recovered smartly and quickly and was growing into a fine young man. I helped him with his first shave on 27 August 2013 with his first shave.

I lost a dear friend in 2013 when Charudatta Deshpande committed suicide in Bombay. It shocked the entire journalism fraternity because Charu was a well-known and much-admired colleague and friend to many. I’d had the privilege of knowing him closely and he tried to help me get a job when my tenure at the US Consulate came to an abrupt and unexpected end.

He arranged my meeting with Anand Mahindra of Mahindra and Mahindra, but nothing came of that. Charu went on to become one of the best public relations professionals in India. I met him in 2011 when I visited India for the first time after coming to Canada. And he was as warm as always – not ready to believe me that I’d worked as a security guard initially.

My friend and former colleague Smita Sherigar visited Toronto and spent a few days with our family. Most friendships develop suddenly and continue forever despite there being little to no contact between friends; our (Smita's and mine) friendship is just like that. 

Among the noteworthy global events that occurred in 2013 included the bomb blast at the Boston marathon by two terrorist brothers, the collapse of the Rana Plaza in Bangladesh, killing over a thousand garment workers, another terrorist attack on a shopping mall in Kenya, where Kenyans of Indian origin were the target.

Malala Yousifzai, the brave girl, who became a victim of a terrorist attack in 2012, emerged as an authentic voice for girls’ right to education and freedom of expression. Nelson Mandela passed away into history. Indi's Mars mission Mangalayaan was launched, and it’d reach Mars a couple of years later, showcasing India’s frugal innovation technology.

Ice storm in Toronto

The year ended with one of the most severe ice storms ever witnessed in Toronto’s history. It was an incredible sight, beautiful and magnificent, but it brought the city to a standstill for nearly a week, with hundreds of thousands of residents without access to power, spending their days and nights in that bitter cold, with no heating.

Sacred Feminine

Guest Post by Lata Pada

"I stand here a woman who has traversed life in many avatars daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend, dancer, teacher and mentor. I ask myself what is the common thread that weaves each of these roles in my life – it has been the abiding feminine spirit, restless and ever seeking," says Lata Pada, the renowned danseuse, and the artistic director of Sampradaya Dance Creations, in her introduction to Meena Chopra’s book She – The Restless Streak

Your worship Mayor Bonnie Crombie, distinguished guests, artists and friends. I am very honoured to be invited to speak today and illustrate how the poems of Meena pay homage to a woman, in all her myriad moods and facets.

Lata Pada performing an abhinaya to Meena Chopra's poetry
at the launch of She - the Restless Streak
at Mississauga Central Library
Photo: Sheila Tucker

As I read She- The Restless Streak, I found Meena’s poems replete with imagery, nuance, allegory and subtext. Each poem has touched upon a central motif - that of a woman. The release of her new book of poetry – She– The Restless Streak– is a deeper journey in that feminine mystique, mysterious and unpredictable, into the abstract and the tangible, complementary and contradictory.

I find the poems are an exploration of the feminine energy, that those of us from India know as Shakti, she who has the power to annihilate evil while also protective of her devotees, her restless creative energy juxtaposed against her meditative and still presence. Shakti is the divine mother that creates, nurtures and nourishes, protective and fierce about her creations, unhesitating about destroying evil.

Meena’s poems have resonated for me at a deeper level. Each of her poems epitomizes what I would like to call the ‘sacred feminine’ – a principle that reaffirms our connection to the divine, the Goddess, the earth and each other. The poems take us on several inner journeys, that are deeply personal and yet universal.

Today, I stand here a woman who has traversed life in many avatars daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend, dancer, teacher and mentor. I ask myself what is the common thread that weaves each of these roles in my life – it has been the abiding feminine spirit, restless and ever seeking. That spirit has been my constant companion and has been part of artistic voice which has found expression in many of my dance productions.

In the arts of India, the female divine has been an intrinsic part of every artistic expression, represented over centuries in temple carvings, paintings and murals, poems and devotional outpourings of the saint-poets and in dance of every genre.

As prakriti – nature, she imprints every creation with her divine energy, moving unceasingly, restless to complete the natural cycles of the sun, the wind and waters to restore order, so the new day can begin. Meena has captured it so beautifully in her poem Kaleidoscope where she describes the ever restless, changing nature through the dawn of day, surging, shifting towards establishing cosmic order.

The female Divine has always been an intrinsic part of life in India, the Indian tradition, where Shakti and Shiva, the female and the male, are seen as essential to the balance of the universe. Artistic traditions such as painting, literature, dance and music honoured this principle of ardhanarishwara, the union of the male and female, as a necessary part of every aspect of nature.

As a dancer, I have found inspiration in the many facets of the feminine in Indian writing, but always searching and restless as how to reconcile the tensions between western and eastern sensibilities, and to explore universal meaning for themes of the goddess, divinity and woman.

Revealed By Fire was the result of this quest. 16 years after the devastation of the Air India bombing in June 1985 in which my husband and two daughters were victims, I felt compelled to create an autobiographical work that was my personal journey through tragedy and survival. 

While my world as wife and mother had been cruelly wrenched from me, I came to understand that my identity as a woman had survived, an identity that no outside force could destroy. No force, even fire like the archetypal Sita of the Ramayana. 

Instinctively, I turned to Sita, where her agni-pariksha- a test of fire, resonated for me; a motif of my re-birth and renewal. Sita emerged unscathed - strong and luminous.

Fire became a metaphor, both for its destructive and regenerative energy. I surrendered to my strong instinct; I did not question the need for this work, I only needed to imagine how to create it. In Revealed By Fire, I returned to wholeness, a new peace and equanimity.

Interview with Pratap Reddy - author

Pratap Reddy

Pratap, your first novel Ramya’s Treasure has been published recently by Guernica Editions. You have been working at it for a long time. In fact, if I remember it right, you began the novel even before you began your short story collection, Weather Permitting, which was published in 2016. Why has it taken so long to complete the novel?

Looking back, I can say that I did not work on the project for far too long. I did start the novel a few years ago, that’s true. It was when I was encountering obstacles in finding a publisher for my first book “Weather Permitting”, a collection of stories; I was being told time and again that short stories were difficult to sell. But when Guernica Editions picked up my book, I put my fledgeling novel on the back burner. I resumed work on the unfinished book only after my short story collection was published. The novel got completed in the very same year - 2016. Guernica Editions accepted my second book too, and it has come out in 2018. The interval between the publication of the two books is not unduly long. Even then, one must not lose sight of the fact that I have a full-time day job, and there’s only so much free time I can spare for writing.

You have also told me that Ramya’s Treasure is by far the most ambitious thing you’ve attempted. Please explain what exactly you mean by that.

This is a perfect example of a person’s comment made at an unguarded moment coming back to haunt him! First of all, I am not a writer of long standing – just two books old! It was ambitious insofar as it was longer than anything I had written until then. Secondly, the protagonist in the novel is a middle-aged woman, who has been dealt a bad hand by Fate. I wanted to chronicle her journey from a state of despondency and depression to finding a purpose in life. In hindsight, the subject was quite ambitious for a rookie author!

Although I am yet to read the book, I believe you have attempted parallel narratives that trace Ramya’s life in Canada and in India – that is an unusual and I dare say a difficult device to adapt to narrate a story. Why did you choose this form?

Being a first-generation immigrant, I am conscious of being part of two cultures, two nationalities, etc. So I wanted this to be very much a part of the narrative as well as my heroine’s psyche. Notwithstanding the challenges or the benefits of living in an adopted country offers, I believe that our past plays a part in defining our future. More so in the case of immigrants -- people who have transplanted themselves into another environment. I felt a compelling need to include the often untold backstory of an immigrant.

There are many stories about immigration and settlement, and nearly all of them depict a male perspective. You have chosen to narrate a story from a woman’s perspective. How difficult was that process? Are you satisfied with the result?

I am not fully acquainted with the entire landscape of diaspora literature, yet, it doesn’t surprise me that they are written predominantly from the standpoint of men.

As it happens so often in life, especially in old world countries, most of the major decisions are unilaterally taken by men, but it is left for their womenfolk to bear the brunt. Immigration is no exception.  After arriving in Canada, it is the women who need to adjust more, take on more responsibilities, besides going out to work so that the family can lead a more comfortable life. So, when I chose to write about the life of a vulnerable immigrant, my imagination of its own accord conjured up Ramya – a middle-aged down and out single woman who is attempting to take back control of her life.

Writing about a female character certainly posed a creative challenge; and, from my side, I tried to do my best to make her credible and convincing. But I leave it to the readers, the ultimate judges, to decide whether I have succeeded or not. Going by the initial reaction, especially from women-readers, it appears I have not made too bad a job of it.

Are you working on another book? Would you want to talk about it?

Yes, I have started work on another novel. It is about a young immigrant to Canada who returns to India and observes the changing social, political and economic landscape there. At least that is the basic premise of the novel, though I am not sure what shape it will finally take. Sometimes plots and characters have lives of their own, unrelated to the author’s intentions. I also have a small collection of stories in a slow cooker which needs to be increased to a book-length manuscript.

But, Mayank, I am not giving you any timelines! As an individual, I have many demands made on my time – professional, spousal, parental obligations. In the midst of it all (even while my head is teeming with plots and ideas) I must find the time to write…another book.

Buy Pratap's novel, click here: Ramya's Treasure  

Author's website: Pratap Reddy

Hotel Mumbai

Bombay (Mumbai) will not forget 26 November 2008. Ten jihadis from Pakistan launched an unprecedented attack on the city that lasted for four days. The Lakshar-e-Taiba trained jihadis attacked 12 places, killed 164 and wounded over 300 citizens of the city. Pakistan had once again exposed the utter vulnerability and gross inability of the Indian state to fight terrorism. The November 2008 attack was on a scale similar to the 1993 serial bomb blast masterminded by Bombay’s underworld and supported by Pakistan.

There were innumerable heroes in those four days in November 2008, some like police officers Vijay Salaskar and Hemant Karkare were acknowledged for their bravery (although controversies surround their deaths), many remain unknown, unsung, unremembered except by their families.  

Given its association with Bombay, the Pakistani men who masterminded and controlled the attack focused on the Taj Mahal hotel. 

The Taj is a popular Bombay landmark, facing the Arabian Sea, located beside the Gateway of India. Jamsetji Tata built it in 1903 because he was not allowed to enter the ‘Whites Only’ Watson’s Hotel. Another wing – the new Taj – as it’s called was built in 1973. Incidentally, the Gateway of India came up nearly a decade later in 1911 to commemorate the arrival of the King and Queen of England to India in 1912.

Four jihadis took charge of the hotel and systematically began to shoot the guests. The Indian and global media descended on Apollo Bunder and gave live coverage to the carnage as it happened. It took nearly two days for the lethargic Indian state to respond to the attack and it was only on the fourth day that it was able to restore order.

It’s nearly a decade since 26/11, and finally, there’s a feature film on the attack on the Taj. Anthony Maras directed Hotel Mumbai is a relentless film. It gives no respite to the viewer from the grim situation inside the hotel that gets progressively worse. Its depiction of the attack is graphic and adopts a documentary/television news format. 

Jointly written by John Collee and Maras, the film depicts the gallant efforts of the hotel’s staff to save the lives of the hotel’s guests. The story centres on a group of about 50 guests who are holed up in the Chambers Lounge of the hotel, where the members of the hotel’s staff try to save them from the four jihadis who have taken control of the hotel.

The four jihadis are Panjabi-speaking young men, sent on a suicide mission with the usual promise of eternal bliss in Paradise. They are constantly brainwashed over their cell phones by their masters in Pakistan into executing orders with coldblooded precision.

One of them, Imran (Amandeep Singh), who shoots all but one hostage, dies disillusioned because he discovers that his masters didn’t keep the promise of paying large sums of money to his family. He doesn’t kill one hostage because she starts reciting the Salah.  

Anupam Kher, who plays the role of the chief chef (Hemant Oberoi) of the hotel, leads the effort in which Dev Patel, who plays the role of a Sikh steward (Arjun), assists him. The other important characters include an interracial family American husband (David – Armie Hammer) and Iranian wife (Zahra – Nazanin Boniadi) with their nanny (Sally – Tilda Cobham-Hervey, who miraculously saves the couple’s baby in the attack. Jason Issacs plays Vasili, a debaucherous Russian intelligence official, who turns into a hero.  (See other credits here: Full Cast & Crew

There are innumerable scenes in the film that are memorable and heart wrenching. Hotel Mumbai is a taut thriller that retains the audience’s interest until it reaches its denouement, even though all that happens is now part of history.

For me, who can’t help but be a Bombayite (or Mumbaikar, if you will), the 2008 attack on Bombay was cathartic. I had left the city forever four months ago to make Toronto my home. My new home had yet to accept me; Mahrukh and I were struggling to make ends meet.

I remember that night in November when I was on m security guard duty at the condo on Heath Street when Howard Karel, a homeowner, came rushing from the gym and said, “Your home is under attack. It’s live on CNN, go see the news.” He offered to wait at the security desk as I rushed down to the gym to watch the news.

We didn’t have a TV at home then but had a discounted subscription to the Toronto Star, which reported the attack. Earlier in November, I’d bought a radio to get the news of the historic Obama election. But both the radio and the newspaper were inadequate. The lack of access to news of such an unprecedented event created a strange vacuum in our lives.  

The absence of steady and detailed news led me to spend hours on the internet, scrounging for information. The attack acquired such significance to our lives then that it found its way into my novel Belief.