Sole Sister

Cruising in the single lane


Leave a comment

Meandering in the Meander Valley

IMG_1310

East your heart out Don Bradman!

Tasmania might be small in size and population, but in the BIG THINGS department it definitely punches above its weight. I was unaware of this until I came across the BIG CRICKET STUMPS during a recent visit. Then, on my return home, a Spirit of Tasmania newsletter revealed the treasure trove of other BIG THINGS around which they have created a tour route. There’s the obligatory BIG APPLE, at Spreyton, near Devonport. Then there are the Big Trout, Penguin, Tassie Devil, Platypus, Potato, Lobster, Coffee Pot, Cherry and Raspberry. And, at the University of Tasmania in Hobart, the Big Slide Rule. But my favourite (apart from the Cricket Stumps for personal reasons), is the BIG THUMBS UP at Scottsdale

I came across the Cricket Stumps in Westbury, in the bucolic Meander Valley, just south of “Launnie” on the Bass Highway. The stumps are among Westbury’s drawcards – along with The Maze and Pearns Steam World – and the delightful township itself. The Stumps stand eight metres high, and three metres across, and commemorate the legendary Jack Badcock, a former wearer of the Baggy Green and the first Tasmanian to make a century for Australia in the 1937 clash against England. Commemorating Jack Badcock, and other significant figures from the town’s formative years, is the finely sculptured metal Westbury Silhouette Trail. 

Metal silhouettes marking the histories of cricketer Jack Badcock; Father James Hogan; ; and wood carver Ellen Nora Payne.  

Others joining the esteemed ranks include Father James Hogan, 1825-1899,  Westbury’s first resident priest and a renowned horseman who served his community for 50 years and was revered by all denominations. Ellen Nora Payne, 1865-1962 , was a wood carver whose work can be found in prestigious institutions all over Australia and Britain. Some of her finest examples rest in St Andrew’s Anglican Church outside which her commemorative silhouette stands. And Sir Walter Lee, a wheelwright and local lay preacher who was three times Premier of Tasmania and a Knight of the Realm. 

In the six years since I was in Tassie the migration from the mainland has gathered steam. In quaint Westbury my BnB proprietor had escaped the heat of Central Queensland, while another new business owner had moved from New South Wales.  Westbury is typical of Meander Valley villages with original shops and houses. It exudes the feel of an English hamlet, with its own village green and town common, and a strong presence of imposing solid, century-plus churches. The town was surveyed in 1823 with early plans by Governor Arthur for it to be a major north-western Tasmania centre. Troops were stationed around the Village Green and free men, women and convicts moved in. Governor Arthur’s big plans failed to materialise and nearby Deloraine prospered instead.

The family-run Green Door Restaurant, and its courtyard; substantial old trees frame the town common. 

Westbury has the charm essential for a developing tourist magnet. I settled comfortably for a weeklong stay in my Gingerbread Cottage BnB (the second “B” an optional element in the accommodation package) and enjoyed the hospitality of the newly renovated Green Door Cafe, Restaurant and Apothecary’s with its gracious indoor dining areas and spacious courtyard. A genuine family affair, Green Door proprietors have long-term plans for an ambitious enterprise that will cover paddock-to-plate dining, cooking and herbal remedy classes and takeaway picnic baskets. Hard working family members combine the skills of a horticulturist, a professional pastry and sweets chef, a trained barista and an accomplished cook.

Apple Tree Cottage and Gingerbread Cottage BnB in William Street; the sought-after dairy products from the Meander Valley’s contented cows. 

Motoring around the (usually green) Meander Valley caps off the magic of this region. Sadly, I was there at the tail end of the hot, dry summer with bushfires burning above in the Central Highlands. A planned trip to the Liffey Falls had to be abandoned because of roads closed by the densely billowing smoke obliterating the afternoon sun.

IMG_1299 (1)

Bushfires in the Central Highlands billow behind the Meander Valley. 

Clouds of smoke blacken the afternoon sky; from Deloraine; getting close. 


2 Comments

Talking to trees

Apart from slowing down and smelling the roses apparently we would do ourselves a favour if we walked in the woods a lot more. In Japan, it’s already a “thing”. It’s called “forest bathing”, or shinrin yoku – shin meaning forest and yoku to bathe.

IMG_0761

Japanese scientists have researched the reasons why “forest bathing” makes us humans feel so good. The university website The Conversation reports the Japanese investigations identified three major inhaled factors making “bathers” feel healthier in diverse forest ecosystems –  beneficial bacteria, plant-derived essential oils and negatively-charged ions.

IMG_0757

After reading German forester Peter Wohllben’s fascinating The Hidden Life of Trees, a gift from my thoughtful elder daughter, I know why I instinctively feel so upset by the sight of a felled forest giant, or upended tracts of massacred trunks, roots and branches. Wohllben sets out how trees are much like human families, living in communities, bringing up their children, parenting them as they mature, sharing nutrients, helping those who are ailing, communicating, and warning them when danger is approaching. Like human towns forests go through cycles of life, death and regeneration , only on a much longer timescale.

Wohllben talks about how trees isolated from their forest environment struggle to survive, just like abandoned children. And those specimens singled out to beautify our cities, planted individually along suburban streets and city boulevards, are just like street kids, left to fend for themselves. He also described the “pain” caused to a tree by cutting into its bark, rather like cutting into someone’s skin. And we should think of sap as the tree’s blood.

Dr Qing Li is the world’s foremost expert in forest medicine. A medical doctor at Tokyo’s Nippon Medical School and a visiting fellow at the Stanford University School of Medicine, he’s a staunch advocate of what forests do for us.  “Forests are an amazing resource,” he says. “They give us everything we rely on in order to exist. They produce oxygen, cleanse the air we breathe and purify our water. They stop flooding rivers and streams and the erosion of mountains and hills. They provide us with food, clothing, and shelter, and with the materials we need for furniture and tools. In addition to this, forests have always helped us to heal our wounds and to cure our diseases.” Now his research is proving how “bathing” in the forest boosts the immune system, increases energy, decreases anxiety, depression, anger and stress and brings about a state of relaxation.

IMG_0758

Dr Qing believes if people were encouraged to visit forests for their health, they would be more likely to want to protect and look after them. Which no doubt would make Peter Wohllben – and the forests – very happy.

IMG_0097

The beauty of a Japanese forest in autumn. 


6 Comments

Whadda we want? Our ABC!

This week’s Four Corners report on the Thai cave rescue garnered rightful praise from many quarters, ABC-TV’s investigative stalwart scoring yet more kudos for hard-hitting, non-sensational reporting. In this era of “fake news” thank goodness for shows like Four Corners. It reminds that sometimes one needs to get out into the public square to make one’s voice heard on matters that matter. Most recently I was called to Southbank Parklands, to the ABC headquarters, where Aunty loyalists young and old gathered to do their bit to protect the old girl . It’s common knowledge that this national treasure is suffering from the common current malaise of “fiscal squeeze”. Some even suggest she should be sold off to the highest bidder, God Forbid!

img_0799.jpg

Speakers Tony Koch, a former Walkley Award winning journalist, and Janine Walker, a former ABC presenter, unionist and academic, both fondly recalled childhoods in regional Queensland in which the ABC played an important community and entertainment role. Others stressed the need in this time of the 24-hour news cycle, diminishing printed media and under-funded long-form journalism of the importance to the democratic political system of maintaining quality, informed media. Such as that provided by the ABC.

I fear for the future of brilliant concepts such as Australian Story, which is currently on a mysterious “mid-year break” and Foreign Correspondent, and regret the demise of Lateline. And where would we be without Four  Corners, the show that spotlighted the Moonlight State, their brilliant 1987 expose of political and police corruption in Queensland; the nail-biting documentary recreation of the disastrous 1998 Sydney to Hobart which claimed six lives and five yachts; or more recent exposes of corrupt banking and insurance practices; inhumane practices at the Don Dale youth detention centre in the Northern Territory; and in the live animal export trade? Then there is the incomparable Leigh Sales who puts the hard questions to dissembling politicians. And let’s not get started on what’s happening to RN!

 

My introduction to protests was as a reporter in the early 1970s when Brisbane was in turmoil over the proposed Springbok Rugby Tour and Premier Bjelke-Petersen pulled punches like States of Emergency. Then in November 1975 I joined the shocked throngs following the dismissal of the Whitlam Government. I marched in the 2000 Brisbane Bridgewalk for Reconciliation, and again in 2003 as one of the 100,000 who took to Brisbane’s city streets to (unsuccessfully) convince the Howard Government not to join in the Iraq war, And again when the missiles actually went up. I’m partial to an environmental protest, especially those that look to protect the Barrier Reef.

I regard the right to protest as fundamental to democracy, and the duty of those who believe in this system of government. So, Whadda ya want? – the ABC! When do ya want it? – Forever!

 

 

 

 

 


6 Comments

Learning to sing

IMG_9079

The term Songlines is widely recognised but for non-Indigenous Australians grasping the actually concept is more elusive. Hats off then to the National Museum of Australia in Canberra for its imaginative effort to bridge the gap of cultural enlightenment by taking the visitor on a colourful, multi-media Indigenous cultural journey through space and time across the continent and beyond.

IMG_9078

Woven versions of the Seven Sisters created by Indigenous women. 

Songlines: Tracking the Seven Sisters focuses on sections of just five songlines, a mere handful of the thousands that track across Australia telling the Indigenous creation story.  Those stories could be described as parables imparting traditional laws and creation interpretations, the battle between good and evil. The seven sisters are chased across the land by the lustful, shape-shifting sorcerer Wati Nyiru. He can become a tree, or a serpant, always trying to tempt and confound the sisters as they flee across the land, each songline having a different version.

The songline left by the sisters in their flight across country, employing all the tricks they know, such as flying, to elude Wari Nyiru creates the features of the land – boulders, hills, trees and waterholes. Eventually they fly into the heavens where they merge with the Orion constellation and Pleiades star cluster.

Ceramic tributes to the songlines. 

The standout feature of the exhibition was the amazing six-metre digital dome room wherein visitors could lie back and watch a state-of-the-art digital, high-res experience including the transit of Pleiades and the Orion constellation, the Seven Sisters rock art from Cave Hill in South Australia and vision of the sisters flying into the night sky. Given the scientific revelation that we humans all carry elements from the Big Bang within us, I saw the elegance of this songline.


4 Comments

Going dotty

IMG_9213

Yayoi Kusama has been called the “Priestess of Polka Dots”. And a few hours gazing at her creations is certainly enough to send you happily polka dotty. The Japanese octogenarian’s most recent Brisbane exhibition, which I just managed to catch before it wrapped up at the Gallery of Modern Art earlier this month didn’t disappoint in the dot department. Spots of all hues camouflaged sculptures, paintings of pumpkins, Picasso-like portraits, lighted and dark kaleidoscopic mirrored infinity installations, all creating a sense of collaboration with kids, Indigenous artists and the avant-garde art world. A visual blitzkrieg.

IMG_9216

Kusama’s dot fetish was said to derive from an early childhood illness with hallucinations impairing her sight with dots in front of the eyes. Another of her themes is the concept of infinity which she represents not only through mirrored installations but infinity “net” paintings of endless interlinked patterns. The artist said this fascination was a result of looking down at the endlessness of the Pacific Ocean on her 1950’s flight from Japan to New York, where she became a leading art scene member. Pumpkins? She likes their shape, their “grotesqueness” and their “homeliness”.

IMG_9240

Yayoi Kusama’s dotty interpretations of Marilyn Monroe (left) and Elizabeth Taylor. 

Mirrored infinity room installations. 

 It was Kusama’s third Queensland Art Gallery-GOMA outing, the first being at the Asia Pacific Triennial in 2002 when she especially wowed the kids with her “obliteration room”. Imagine being a kid walking into a room painted completely white and being invited to stick coloured dots wherever you like to your heart’s content!  The relationship between QAGOMA and Kusama nurtured through the Triennial was rewarded with another exhibition in 2012; the 2017-18 show Life is the Heart of the Rainbow; and major acquisitions making the Gallery’s collection one of the most significant in a public museum outside Japan.

IMG_9226

Infinity nets. 

 

 


4 Comments

Booking some reading time

The Christmas-New Year break is my favourite time of the year – my “do nothing but read lots” time. The Christmas left-overs provide days’ worth of meals; there’s nothing compelling on TV; only kids’ movies on at theatres; friends are away; and who wants to fight over Boxing Day bargains? Perfect!

Happily, our end-of-year book club event at the Avid Reader Bookshop in West End, with Living Book-Advice Treasure Fiona Stager as our host and reading guide, offered plenty of suggestions to add to the waiting-to-be-read pile. They range from heartfelt novels, to historical fiction, memoir, fact-and-fiction mixes, biographies, short stories and science history. As with last year’s nominations many authors are Australian, a timely nod to the health of our literary creativity. Among Fiona’s personal recommendations are:

Music and Freedom, by Zoe Morrison, winner of the 2017 Australian Literary Society Gold Medal. The first-time novelist and music prodigy draws on her love of music and social issues in a gripping novel that examines how long-term domestic abuse can stifle the life chances of women.

IMG_9059The Restorer, by Michael Sala. A couple attempt a marriage reconciliation while embarking on the restoration of a terrace house in Newcastle. Fiona praises Sala’s writing saying he has “thought about every word on the page”. His first novel, The Last Thread, won the NSW Premier’s Award for new writing and was regional winner of the Commonwealth Book Prize.

First Person, by Richard Flanagan. Fiona found this novel interesting: part fact, part fiction. The protagonist, a struggling young writer, faces a moral dilemma when offered a commission to ghostwrite the memoir of a celebrated conman who is about to be jailed. She said First Person received some negative reviews. “Some men I know didn’t like it, but all the women did”, she said.  First Person is Flanagan’s first novel since winning the Booker Prize for The Narrow Road to the Deep North.

City of Crows, by Chris Womersley, has an historical base, and is set in 17th century France, a time when life was hard and magic and witchcraft were commonplace.  Fiona describes it a “page-turner with a slightly sinister edge”. As a Sydney Morning Herald review noted, a really good writer like Womerlsey “can engage readers in things they didn’t know they’d be interested in.”

Dunbar, by Edward St Aubyn. This is one of publisher Hogarth’s series of Shakespeare classics reimagined in contemporary settings by selected writers. St Aubyn’s Henry Dunbar is a modern-day King Lear envisioned as the all-powerful head of an international media company with the capacity to ruin lives and reputations on a whim. Sound familiar? For literary history buffs, Hogarth Press is a British publishing house started in 1917 by Leonard and Virginia Woolf.

A New England Affair, by Stephen Carroll, the 2008 Miles Franklin Award winner. It’s the third of his novels about T. S. Eliot, using elements of Eliot’s poems and life as the basis. Each presents Eliot as he is known by others. In this a 74-year-old New England woman, with whom Eliot was said to have had a romantic connection, is the centre of the novel which deals with the concept of the lasting desolation caused by lost opportunities.

Extinctions, by Josephine Wilson, and the 2017 Miles Franklin Award winner. The plot revolves around a story of Frederick Lothian, an concrete engineering specialist, who has moved into a retirement village after his wife’s death. He has a difficult relationship with their adopted Indigenous daughter, Caroline, living in London and curating an exhibition about extinction; and little close contact with his son Callum, who is in care after suffering a serious brain injury in a car accident. Fiona said the “hook” for the story relates to what happened to both son and daughter.

Terra Nullius, by Claire Coleman, a  Noongar woman. Fiona describes the work as “speculative fiction”. At the time of our book club evening it was her current read.  She said the puzzle of the book was: “is it set now, or in the future. Or is it a dystopian novel?”

Common People by Tony Birch.   This is a book of short stories about individuals who have missed out on the great Australian Dream. “Birch’s themes are love, loss, poverty and pain,” said Fiona.

The Life to Come, by Michelle de Kretzer. The work consists of five sections that have an interconnection without being a continuous narrative. Only one character appears throughout. Writer Pippa Reynolds, who grew up as Narelle in North Sydney, changes her name on her 18th birthday because “no-one called Narelle’s ever going to win the Booker”.  This plays into the book’s dark humour theme of throwing a spotlight on Australian narcissism.  As in her other books de Kretzer weaves in a reference to her native Sri Lanka.

Saga Land, by Richard Fidler. This exploration of both the new must-see tourist destination of Iceland and the mysterious Sagas, the true stories of the first Vikings to settle the remote and unforgiving Arctic island in the Middle Ages, follows closely on the respected ABC interviewer’s earlier tome Ghost Empire. Fidler and Kári Gíslason connected during an interview and bonded over a mutual love of the Sagas. The book is the story of their research in Iceland which included a quest by Gíslason to solve a long-standing family mystery connecting them to the most famous Saga author. There could be no greater praise for Saga Land than for Hannah Kent, author of award-winning Iceland-based historical novel, Burial Rites, than her declaration she “adored” Saga Land.

Adventures of a Young Naturalist, by Richard Attenborough. The text was first published in 1956 but has been out of print for some time. Apparently a young publisher found a copy in a second-hand bookshop and here it is in print again for nature lovers and Attenborough-philes to enjoy anew.

The Ninth Hour, by Alice McDermott.  Fiona describes McDermott is a “writers’ writer”. She nominates this story of the poverty and struggles of Irish Catholic Brooklyn in the early 20th century, and the ever-presence of nuns in everyday life, as her favourite for the year.

The Trauma Cleaner, by Sarah Krasnostein. This biography looks at the subject of trauma, from the work of Sandra Pankhurst, who not only cleans up after the most gruesome of incidents frequently offering a sympathetic ear to victims, and asks questions about the impacts of trauma. Fiona said the writer shines a particular light on hoarders and what leads people to hoard. But there’s plenty more too.

Anaesthesia, by Kate Cole-Adams. This Australian journalist worked for Melbourne’s Age newspaper and brings her inquisitive and explanatory skills to a subject little-understood, even by the anaesthetists themselves. It looks at the development of anaesthetics, the bizarre experiments, the maverick professionals, and that most widespread of fears, waking up during surgery. The author did much of her research in anticipation of her own encounter with the mystery gases for spinal surgery.

 

 

 

 


Leave a comment

Stairways to Heaven

IMG_6062

The stunning Rani-Ki-Vav in Gujarat.

While I appreciate the  gift of modern plumbing my gratitude springs from the sheer comfort and convenience of luxuries such as turn-of-the-tap running water and flushing loos.  Beauty is not in the equation.  That wasn’t the story 1000 years ago when stepwells emerged to solve the water woes of India’s desert regions, particularly in Rajastan and Gujarat. No holes in the ground to catch the run off, these stepwells brought glory to their financiers, builders and deities through architectural, engineering and artistic brilliance. Many must have taken years and an army of workers and craftsmen to construct.

IMG_6067 2 The exquisite beauty emerging from centuries of Saraswati River silt.  

Intricate carving decorating the Rani-Ki-Vav

Stepwells –  baori in Hindi and Vav in Gujarati – are unique to the Indian subcontinent. While their primary role was to bring a reliable supply of water to people and animals, the vital life-sustaining properties of water also gave them an important function in the performance of rites and rituals. In Hindu mythology water has a special significance as a boundary between the subterranean, celestial and earthly worlds bestowing the wells with religious significance. Hence their intricate and exquisite artistry.

IMG_6306

Early morning ablutions at the ghat – the inspiration for stepwells. 

Apart from being structures of great beauty the wells were supremely engineered with stone steps in elaborate geometric patterns leading visitors down many levels to the waters edge. The designers drew their inspiration from the structure of ghats – long, shallow stairs and landings along muddy river banks – which allowed locals and trade route travellers to access the water for clothes washing, bathing and religious purposes. The wells were often built within proximity to temples emphasising their spiritual importance.

IMG_7108

Chand Baori in Abhaneri.

Serendipity perhaps, but an Indian travel blogger I follow recently wrote a post devoted to step wells. She was curious, given their beauty and historical status, why so many were in bad states of crumbling decay, full of rubbish and stagnant water. Her research suggested they fell into disrepair during the British Raj because the colonisers regarded them as health hazards and potential sources of infection. So most stepwells, including some we visited, harbour ponds of green, murky liquid floating with discarded carton, plastic bags and assorted detritus.

IMG_6023

IMG_6043

 

Elaborate Sun Temple complex, Modhera, Gujarat, built in 1026. Don’t drink the water!

But all is not lost. The Rani-ki-Vav in Patan in Gujarat, built in the 11 Century for the widowed Queen of Bhimdev in memory of her husband, on the banks of the Saraswati River, was World Heritage listed in 2014 and last year won the title as India’s cleanest iconic place. The extent and beauty of the well was revealed by Archeological Survey of India excavations from the 1960s after being submerged for centuries, the victim of monsoonal mountains of silt which had washed down the river. Another of the Bhimdev dynasty’s stepwells is found at Modhera, also in Gujarat, as part of an elaborate Sun Temple complex built in 1026AD.

The earliest stepwells date to about 550 AD, with over 3000 in Gujarat and Rajasthan. The town of Bundi, roughly midway between Udaipur and Jaipur, alone has over 50. Although many wells have fallen into disrepair, and are boarded off, hundreds remain. We saw examples of various sizes and intricacy, and states of repair, sadly many beyond redemption. Others are in the hands of the archeologists, the Chand Baori in Abhaneri in Rajasthan one of the most impressive and visually spectacular.  A deep, four-sided structure with an commanding temple on one face, its walls step down 13 stories to a depth of over 30 metres. The well and an adjoining temple, dedicated to Hashat Mata, the Goddess of Joy and Happiness, date back to the 10th century.  Both the well and temple have broken sculptures marked and ready to be returned to former glories, a treat in store for both the people of India and overseas travellers to the sub-continent.  Let’s hope the end results could match the description of a stepwell visited by mid-19th Century French world traveller Louis Rousselet: “….water covered with lotuses in flower, amid which thousands of aquatic birds are sporting”.

Stone sculptures waiting for restoration, Chand Baori 

 

 

 


3 Comments

It’s a wrap

IMG_5630

That big fashion “thing”, zhuzhing a scarf  with panache, has never been my forte.  But having the right touch adjusting a scarf is nothing compared to the artistry of turban tying, a practice executed with ease routinely by millions of Indian men.

IMG_6047

Some of the turban styles found in Gujarat. 

Made from the simplest cottons to the richest brocaded and bejewelled silks, from plain colours to the most dazzling of patterns and hues, turbans can be of religious significance, or reflect identity, origin, status, or culture. Different regions have their own style. In Rajasthan they feature a little peak at the front and a long “tail” at the back. A sheep-herder’s headwear obviously differs markedly from that of a mararajah. Turban colours can signify a purpose: saffron, the colour of bravery, might be worn at a rally; pink signifies spring; navy blue war and service. For the Sikhs the turban has religious significance. While turbans are worn almost exclusively by men, Sikh women can wear them too. IMG_5577

The Royal Palace in Gondal opens a window into the splendour of earlier regal times with fascinating collections including a sumptuous display of turbans from across India’s many former territorial regions. Of particular interest is a replica of the luxuriant headwear of the builder of the magnificent Taj Mahal, renowned Mogul Emperor Shah Jehan, who reigned from 1627 to 1658. As befits such an exalted figure the richly brocaded piece drips with pearls and precious stones.

On our travels through Gujarat we were fortunate to have the cultural services of the delightful Durga Singh-ji, a Thakur, or nobleman in his native Rajasthan. He lamented the gradual loss of the art of turban tying in modern-day India but showed us that he had lost none of his expertise, masterfully twisting and twirling some seven meters of sunny orange and yellow patterned fabric into the top-knot and tailed Rajasthan style. Durga-ji explained that in earlier times some nine metres of fabric would be used, usually beautiful quality cotton, georgette or silk. In the past, for the everyday turban-wearer, the elaborate headpiece was almost like a best friend: it protected from the sun and wind; if the wearer was lost his colourful headpiece made him easy to spot; it could be rolled up into a pillow at night; or could be used as a fly or mosquito  net; a flick over the face would render the wearer incognito; all that fabric was a perfect rope to pull water from a well in dry times; for those wounded in battle it was a bandage; and in a fight it protected like a helmet.

Three cheers for the turban!

 


6 Comments

Change agent

IMG_6167

The revered Mahatma in peaceful contemplation on the lawns at Sabarmati Ashram. 

IMG_6168

An ashram visitor takes a leaf out of his guru’s book.

It’s not surprising that one of the most serene places in Ahmedabad is the ashram founded by the revered Mohandas Gandhi – the Mahatama (Great Soul) or Bapu (Father). In contrast to the outside hustle and bustle, colour and commotion, the ashram on the banks of the Sabarmati River opens to green lawns, sandy quadrangles, low-slung, simple, airy bungalows and shady trees. Visitors stroll at ease around the grounds and museum, taking in the so-familiar images and props of the Mahatma – his walking staff, spinning wheel and displays illuminating his innumerable familiar exhortations captured in handwriting and print.

IMG_6161

Bapu’s famous staff and spinning wheel. 

 

Gandhi’s desk; the view from the window.

Mohandas Gandhi was a native Gujurati, born to a middle class family. He studied law in the United Kingdom, returned to India a qualified barrister then was offered a job in South Africa. The racial prejudice he encountered in South Africa spurred him not only to return to India but develop his philosophies. Prime among these was the removal of the British from India and the non-violent methods by which this might be achieved. The peaceful atmosphere of Sabarmati Ashram, established on 17 June 1918 – 100 years ago last weekend –  was the perfect place to contemplate peaceful pathways to change. The venerated Father of the Nation and his wife Kasturba stayed at Sabarmati Ashram for over a decade. It was from here that he began his famous march across India, defied the salt tax and urged his countrymen to spin their own simple “khadi” cloth to sideline the need for British  manufactured textiles.

 

India gained its independence from Britain in August 1947 but, within a year, the beloved Gandhi was dead, cruelly assassinated by a Hindu devotee who was wrongly convinced that the Mahatma was to blame for the partition of the new nation into (roughly) Hindu India and Moslem Pakistan. Relations between the neighbours – and once peaceful co-inhabiters of the one country – have grown increasingly hostile with each passing decade. Hardly the kind of change that Gandhi had envisaged.

IMG_6172

Words of the Guru. 

IMG_6174

 

Ashram signage (left); Gandhi’s signature in numerous languages.


2 Comments

The city that Ahmed built

img_6281.jpg

IMG_6284

Ahmed Shah I tomb.

The locale suffix abad attaches itself to cities across Iran, Azerbaijan, Afghanistan and the Indian sub-continent. It’s a strong reminder of the influence that the ancient superpower of Persia had on its neighbours. -Abad derives from the Persian meaning “cultivated place” and, according to that go-to source Wikipedia, commonly is added to the name of a city’s founder or patron. Such is the case with the old capital, and largest city, of Gujarat State, Ahmedabad. Or Amdavad as it’s known in the local dialect. The suffix emphasises an essential aspect of Ahmedabad’s personality:  it’s Moghul and Muslim roots.

IMG_6289

Ahmed Shah I Mosque. 

Ahmedabad was established in 1411 by an early Muzaffarid Sultan of Gujarat, Ahmed Shah I. He chose a site along the banks of the impressive Sabarmati River which begins life in the hills of Rajasthan then meanders across Gujarat for about 400 kms, feeding on monsoon waters until it reaches the Arabian Gulf. He named the city for himself,  his spiritual advisor, and two other worthy Ahmeds of his acquaintance. During the almost-200-year Muzaffarid reign, Ahmedabad blossomed into one of the largest and wealthiest cities in the world, graced with a distinctive architectural style encouraged by the sultans that blended Islamic elements with Gujarat’s indigenous Hindu and Jain traditions. Gujarat’s Islamic style was the forerunner of  elements found in Mughal architecture including ornate mihrabs and minarets, perforated screens  of carved stone and cupola-topped pavilions. Many centuries later the banks of the Sabarmati in Ahmedabad were to become the site of one of the Mahatma Gandhi’s ashrams.

IMG_6273

Ahmedabad’s elegant Stock Exchange, India’s second oldest. 

Ahmedabad assumed  the capital mantle of Gujarat State when the new nation of India was created in 1948. Then in 1970 the honours went to Gandinagar further up the Sabarmati, though the High Court remained in Ahmedabad.  But significant immovable reminders remain including Ahmed Shah’s mosque, built in 1414, the oldest in the city, and his tomb.  The latter also houses the tombs of his son, Muhammed Shah II and grandson Qutub-ud-din.

IMG_6252

IMG_6249

From little things…… Ahmedabad is now a city of over 7 million and makes it onto lists of the 20 fastest-growing cities in the world. Being close to Mumbai, the old Bombay, the city benefitted from its early commercial significance. The decorative Stock Exchange, built in the mid-1800s, is India’s second oldest. As India’s sixth largest city it is an important industrial and economic hub, houses many educational and research institutions, and flourishing heavy and chemical industries. The name Adani, as instantly recognised in Ahmedabad as Australia, has its corporate headquarters there.

IMG_6226

For all its bustling modernity one of the most charming parts of Ahmedabad is Ahmed Shah’s old city.  Tourists happily avail themselves of early-morning walks around the area before the tumult of the day overtakes. Reminders of an ornate and more elegant past can be gleaned from the tumble-down backstreets where the influence of British architecture also survives. Happily, as in other cities around the world, past beauty is being restored in many places.

IMG_6254

Young Jain nuns going to early morning devotions. 

Beautiful Jain temple.

IMG_6278

IMG_6239

IMG_6243