Roby Das 'framed'

Roby Das "The pictures I shoot have no pre-conceived meanings. No inner meanings whatsoever they reflect either," says Roby Das a self-trained photographer in New Delhi who was on a visit here. He adheres to frames of life in his clicks, not meanings. Frames he carved are anecdotes of land and people. He believes that most effective mode of communication is photography as the camera has the ability to capture the essence of an expression in all its purity and innocence. He learnt basic photography from his father, who was a professional photographer once. Now he is a full-fledged travel photographer. A solo trip from Srinagar to Kanyakumari on motorcycle gave him ample opportunity to shoot enough beauty and charm. For once, he listened to the call of the heart for a feat. He distributed one lakhs of pamphlets on traffic safety in English and languages of the states he crossed. His name was duly included in Limca Book of Records, of the March 2011 edition. "Now, I have to run and click those frames before they vanish from this world," laments Roby Das on the degrading rivers and disappearing paddy fields of the country. He wants to fill his frames with all the curves, length and breadth of nature. Roby is therefore fuelling himself for another journey: another solo bike expedition through the coastal belt of the country. This long stretch from Porbandar to Kolkotha on the thunder bird will take more than 40 days. When others travel for the heck, his journeys gift him with excellent clicks! Roby first mounted a solo exhibition of his fifty photographs at AIFAC, Rafi Marg, and New Delhi in 2008, followed by one at Ashok hotel, New Delhi. An exhibition of 20 portraits, "faces of India", held at the Constitution Club on the occasion of Independence Day, another one "Dawn and Desk" at Trivandrum, and the "third coloured views" at Lalita Kala Akademy, Chennai drew the desire crowds. Roby Das hails from Sreekandapuram, a small hamlet in Kannur.

Overtime for tailors as demand for uniforms peaks

A tailor stitching uniforms in his shop at East Fort yesterday. By Faris Arakkal TAILORS are busy stitching uniforms as schools are getting ready to open in the coming week. They are working overtime to make the maximum out of the season. Previously, there was only one pattern in school uniform, but now it has become a trend to introduce more patterns. As a result, the number of the uniforms has increased and parents have to meet additional expenses on them. Tailors in the city charge Rs 120 for stitching a shirt and Rs 180 for a pant for boys while for girls it is around Rs 160 for a pinafore and Rs 150 for a churidar. The rate changes according to the length and width of the uniform. James, who has been in dress making for more than 20 years, used to work till late night during the season. Parents are a bit relieved as schools have opened a new system of providing the uniform directly. But there are complaints against the school management for making huge profit in this business. Since parents are not ready to take the risk of finding a good dress maker, they don't raise their voice against the management. When most of the tailors have the policy of making the hay while sun shines, City Tailors Thrissur, which has been in the field for 50 years, never takes up school uniform works. "I couldn't sleep a minute last week" says Praveen, who is the only tailor in his area. The season brings maximum crowd to his shop and often disputes occur with customers, adds Praveen. Though All Kerala Tailors Association has issued a price list for stitching each dress, none follows it. They all have different price tags! "Readymade uniforms in textile shops lack quality and are stitched out of bad polyester materials" says Naseer, who is a tailor form Vadookara. Naseer has got orders from different schools this year also. A few parents even approached the tailor at the time of their children's annual exam.

Kuttikalam and puppetry come alive AFTER 18 days of sojourn into the world of theatre, a group of 22 kids staged a play, Kuttikalam (childhood days), resurrecting the old comedian Charlie Chaplin's rough childhood at Hari Sree Vidhya Nidhi School, in Poonkunnam. Chaplin who lived in London had suffered a poverty ridden life. The play is a narration of the slices taken out from his childhood to death. Kuttikalam is penned by Sreejish Pochara. Thalaam cultural trust organised the workshop for the students under the age of 15. It is a workshop, being conducted yearly by the trust. Children were trained in to script writing, direction, and acting. Theatre artiste Suresh Mechery who provided the students with various techniques of theatre performances is happy with children's performance. "Most of them are simply superb," says Suresh, who is a full time theatre performer. He has directed plays in different parts of the state. It was also an unforgettable experience for the children to play a puppet show, as the workshop constituted training in puppetry, too. "It's a pioneering workshop held in a school in the state," says Rajan Pootharakkal, who have taken up puppetry as profession. He introduced puppetry to children with a new style of storytelling. The workshop started on May 8 and children have been in action all through the days. Now they all are actors, directors and scriptwriters!

Feeling the heat? Cool down here!

By Faris Arakkal The rattling of vehicles comes to a halt here, on the road side. Most of them apply breaks here to relax this scorching heat. The trees along the roadside of Puzhakkal padam opposite to the Lulu Convention Centre has become a hub for refreshment of travellers. Roadside vendors with a wide variety of edibles await them. The road which meets the highway brings numerous passengers a day, most of them on a long drive. Roadside vendors have their kitty full of summer's popular choices like sugar cane, water-melon, lemon juice and fruits. "Travellers walk in here not only to wet their throats but also to experience a breeze," says Unnikrishnan who sells bottled mangoes and amlas seasoned in salt here. He comes here in the morning around eight and leaves by six in the evening. But when monsoon reigns supreme, he has to find another work for the daily bread. However, for Biju, who is running a fruit shop for the last 13 years, has no other means of income, so he will earn his bread here itself in the monsoon too. "It's a means of my livelihood, not profit," says Biju. They exploit the sweltering heat but not the travellers, adds Biju. The easy parking slot adds to the luxury of these vendors. The pilgrimage seasons are the times when both road sides are swarmed by vehicles. Tired heavy vehicle drivers have the lucky chances to doze off under the shades. Sharafuddeen has come down to Thrissur from Kottakkal to sell small gadgets like pipes and air pumps. For him, it is easy to occupy a space here under the shade as he would not be caught under the snarling traffic in the city. All vendors bring water from the nearby public water supply at Muthuvara. When monsoon adds misery to their life, they are more worried about the changes that may be enforced by the authorities.

Shopping spree Parents and children are getting ready for the new academic year.

A family selecting an umbrella for their young son at a shop at High Road yesterday. By Faris Arakkal ROSE wants a small umbrella with red dots while Reshma needs the transparent pink one. With only one more week left for the schools to ring the long bell, all the shops in the city are witnessing brisk sale. Bags and umbrellas are most needed. Most of the shops at High Road are crowded in the evenings with parents busy selecting the best for their kids. It's again a Chinese revolution in the school market. From pen to umbrella, there are varieties of Chinese products in the market. Umbrellas with sceneries, club logos and various funny designs are the fashion this time. Small pocket umbrellas and ordinary size Chinese ones have been introduced. Last year's hit, nano umbrellas, are also available in the market. An umbrella costs around Rs 300. School bags Diesel and Scoobee Day are in great demand. "Most kids now walk into shops asking for particular brands,"says a shopkeeper. More straps and pockets are the characteristic feature of the bags in demand. One side bag is simply gone now. The school kit, which includes water bottles, is available in fluorescent and transparent styles. The city is all ready to accomplish the taste and choice of the kids. But parents are yet to turn up. Hence, shopkeepers are waiting for the rush next week.

Manakody's Chittappan, a helping hand for everyone

Sidharthan He is a helping hand for all the families who don't have male members at home.

IT was raining cats and dogs on that day. Sidharthan was then three years old, shivering with acute fever. His mother was holding him tightly in her arms. Whenever lightning flashed across the sky, she further tightened her hold. But it didn't help Sidharthan's rising temperature. The mother was helpless to reach the nearest doctor.
Years passed. Sidharthan is now blind and known as Chittappan, the Malayalam equivalent for father's brother. He has been a Chittappan for the whole villagers, who gave him the nickname out of love. Sixty-three-year-old Chittappan now lives in Manakody, 8km from the city.
Sidharthan is a helping hand for all the families who don't have male members at home. He brings grocery for them. He goes to the ration shop.
His day starts with a bath in the nearby river. Though blind He knows every nook and corner of the village. After the shower, he reaches the teashop and then his work starts.
He lost his eyesight due to fever when he was only three years old. Then, the child did not get proper treatment and it was too late by the time they consulted a doctor.
After years, Chittappan attended many eye camps, but in vain. He does not regret his lost eyesight but for his lost education. Nobody was ready to teach a blind boy. Thus he became an illiterate. But he throws his ears to learn things. He listens to the reading of newspaper at the tea shop. So he has a good understanding of the political developments in the world.
His mother died 13 years ago, leaving him alone in the world. She was his eyesight. Still, he had to live a life.
Every marriage, house-warming, funerals in the village was attended by Chittappan. After lunch, he dozes off for a while and then some music. In the evenings, he would be busy at the ration shop. "People say I always wear a smell of kerosene," Chittappan said.
Chittappan never claims he is a teetotaler. Whenever he is offered a puff of cigarette or beedi, he would be very happy. However, he is not particular about smoking.
Having sharp hearing capacity, he makes out the people in the village from distance. He has five siblings. His only income is the monthly pension allotted for the blind.