Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Basillica Cistern, Istanbul

In the heart of Istanbul’s historic district, Sultanahmet, lies a hidden historic treasure that takes a while to find and reach, but strikes you with awe so hard, that it might take a lifetime to get over it.



We had been in the ‘city of two continents’ for quite a few days and had walked the streets and alleyways of Sultanahmet to its entirety, when we read about the Basilica Cistern in one of the travel handbooks. The name really doesn’t reveal much of what it could be about. Is it an erstwhile underground church? Is it a cave where people from some bygone era worshipped? We wondered as we wandered the streets, when suddenly our eyes caught the signage heralding the location of the Basilica Cistern, right across the Aya Sofya, off the Divan Yolu Caddesi, one of the oldest streets of the city.


20 TL (Turkish Lira) tickets and some forty steps down a dark, winding, narrow staircase suddenly lead us into a vast subterranean expanse that was simply unbelievable at first sight. How could anyone ever imagine, right under the belly of a bustling city can exist such a place?


We learnt that this place, called the Basilica Cistern or the Yerebatan Sarayi (Sunken Palace), was only an underground water storage tank that received water through the Roman aqueducts from higher grounds, and supplied water to the Byzantine palaces in Constantinople of the middle ages.


Only a water tank it was, but the grandeur, the detailing, the architecture was simply mind-blowing, to say the least. Built by the Byzantine emperor Justinian I, it is a forest of marble pillars, 336 in all, arranged in a regular sixteen feet grid stands 30 feet tall, mounted by masonry cross vaults to support the roof.


This forest of marble pillars, lit by a fantastic red haunting light from below, and standing on a feet deep pool of water creates an eerie, yet fascinating atmosphere, that can only be felt to be appreciated. Wooden decks meandering through the pillars have been created over the pool to take visitors into the depths of the cistern. Fish of varying sizes swarm the pool as you notice them in the dimly lit water. One corner reveals coins thrown in the water – a wishing well of sorts. As we tread along, we gently stroke the strange but beautiful carvings on the marble, and wonder why would anybody take so much pain to carve a pillar that would be submerged in water forever?


When we reach the end of the decked passage, taking in the oddity of the space, and trying to dodge dripping water from the vaults above, we are in for a massive surprise. There, right at the corner of the cistern, stand two pillars on large sculpted pedestals – two beautifully carved marble heads of Medusa – one lying on its side, and the other upside down! How, when, why they happened to be there, no one knows. But there they lay, bearing the burden of the massive pillars and the vaulted roof of the cistern for centuries. Medusa discovered under the streets of Istanbul – in the Basilica Cistern.


Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Neighbour Hood Park - A translation of a song by Kabir Suman

The Neighbourhood Park
Clothes dry on rails, cakes dry on the wall
The grass has just dried off and is not there at all
The neighbourhood park, grass-less and dry
The children who play there will never ask why
The wood in the benches is weathered all over
Time comes and sits there like a forsaken lover
The wood in the benches is weathered all over
Time comes and sits there like a lone Chaplin cover
The neighbourhood park, grass-less and dry
The children who play there will never ask why
Those people near the gate lighting fire for food
Near the wall many homeless try make a livelihood
A lone tube well stands rusted a few steps away
As water keeps running out to join the fading day
Only a few forlorn trees keep their heads held high
And yet in that drought the sparrow wants to fly
The neighbourhood park, grass-less and dry
The children who play there will never ask why
The pale deathly trees with their dust ashen leaves
Time feels like tired and folds its own sleeves
The neighbourhood park, grass-less and dry
The children who play there will never ask why
There’s a broken bulb in that lamp post out there
The girls play their games in the lamp’s little sphere
The lamp post too joins with the girls in their fun
A clueless kite stuck to it flutters in the sun
As the day settles, children swarm the place
That boy gets up to dust the dirt off his dress
The little homeless girl too joins in the fun
Children preach equality in the grey grassless run
The neighbourhood park, grass-less and dry
The children who play there will never ask why
The original:
পাড়ার ছোট্ট পার্ক
রেলিঙ্গে শুকোয় শাড়ি পাঁচিলে শুকোয় ঘুটে
রেলিঙ্গে শুকোয় শাড়ি পাঁচিলে শুকোয় ঘুটে
ঘাস গুলো সব শুকিয়ে শুকিয়ে শেষ মেষ গেছে উঠে
পাড়ার ছোট্ট পার্ক ঘাস নেই আছে ধুলো
ঘাসের অভাব পরওয়া করেনা সবুজ বাচ্চা গুলো
বেঞ্ছি গুলোর কাঠ রোদে পুড়ে জলে ভিজে
বেঞ্ছি গুলোর কাঠ রোদে পুড়ে জলে ভিজে
সমকাল এসে বসেছে সেখানে আহত প্রেমিক সেজে
বেঞ্ছি গুলোর কাঠ রোদে পুড়ে জলে ভিজে
বেঞ্ছি গুলোর কাঠ রোদে পুড়ে জলে ভিজে
সমকাল এসে বসেছে সেখানে একা চ্যাপলিন সেজে
পাড়ার ছোট্ট পার্ক ঘাস নেই আছে ধুলো
ঘাসের অভাব পরওয়া করেনা সবুজ বাচ্চা গুলো
লোহার গেটের পাশে উনুন ধরায় কারা
লোহার গেটের পাশে উনুন ধরায় কারা
রেলিং ঘেষে সংসার করে কজন বাস্তুহারা
একটু দূরেই আছে ক্যাঁচক্যাঁচে টিপকল
একটু দূরেই আছে ক্যাঁচক্যাঁচে টিপকল
পরন্ত বেলা বালতিকে বলে চল রে জল কে চল
এদিক ওদিক দেখ কিছু গাছ আছে বাকি
এদিক ওদিক দেখ কিছু গাছ আছে বাকি
এই আকালেও আনাগোনা করে নাছোড়বান্দা পাখি
পাড়ার ছোট্ট পার্ক ঘাস নেই আছে ধুলো
ঘাসের অভাব পরওয়া করেনা সবুজ বাচ্চা গুলো
বিবর্ণ গাছগুলো
বিবর্ণ গাছগুলো ধুলোয় ধূসর পাতা
বিবর্ণ গাছগুলো ধুলোয় ধূসর পাতা
বেগতিক দেখে ক্লান্ত সময় গোটায় জামার হাতা
পাড়ার ছোট্ট পার্ক ঘাস নেই আছে ধুলো
ঘাসের অভাব পরওয়া করেনা সবুজ বাচ্চা গুলো
ল্যাম্পোস্টের বাল্ব গুলতির ঢিলে ভাঙ্গা
ল্যাম্পোস্টের বাল্ব গুলতির ঢিলে ভাঙ্গা
এটাকে ঘিরেই খেলছে মেয়েরা খেলছে কুমির ডাঙ্গা
চোর-চোর খেলা হলে ল্যাম্পোস্ট হয় বুড়ি
ভাদ্দুরে রোদে এটাই হাতায় নিরুদ্দিষ্ট ঘুড়ি
বিকেল বেলার রোদে বাচ্চার ভিড় বারে
বিকেল বেলার রোদে বাচ্চার ভিড় বারে
খেলতে খেলতে পড়ে যাওয়া ছেলে প্যান্টের ধুলো ঝাড়ে
বাস্তুহারারও খুকি মেটায় খেলার সাধ
বাস্তুহারারও খুকি মেটায় খেলার সাধ
ঘাস উঠে যাওয়া ধূসর পার্কে শিশুর সাম্যবাদ
পাড়ার ছোট্ট পার্ক ঘাস নেই আছে ধুলো
ঘাসের অভাব পরওয়া করেনা সবুজ বাচ্চা গুলোসবুজ বাচ্চা গুলো

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Land Ahoy

Distances far and as remote
Getting further away
The dots that sailed the purple seas
Grew fainter everyday
The wind stilled and the water calmed
The storm was brewing strength
To put the soul in a bout of pain
To stretch to any length
Yet the tiring feet set firm
On a creaking cowering deck
Under a yellow scorching sun
Waiting for the wreck
Eyes stared at a glaring sky
Blank, hopeless, lost
Waiting, for the war of life
To fight at any cost
And win perhaps, or lose
Yet be alive till the end
Destiny challenged one more time
Fate forced to bend
The waves will rise, the storm arise
The seas will let its wrath
On the sailor armed with composed calm
Undeterred in his path
Letting go a lovely tune
Across the rolling blue
A song of love for eternity
In a crimson hue
Whistling through those moments hung
Floating into ears
Waiting for endless nights
Through silent cherished tears……

Wah Taj!


Wednesday, November 26, 2008

A Mighty Heart

In trying to be the best at your work, people falter. But there are a few who get up and get going again. Those are the true heroes. Like Marianne Pearl. Daniel Pearl's wife. Her message to the people was so full of optism and faith even after her husband was brutally murdered for absolutely no reason. She epitomizes the stoic. We all suffer in our own ways. But that should not make us lose faith in everything that is around us - people, life, hopes and dreams. We dream, therefore we are!

Monday, July 02, 2007

....lansdowne....

The day was normal…. We had to start at 4 in the morning… but as usual, none of us heard the alarm and when my eyes opened, it was day light!! The watch said 5 AM!! We jumped out of bed, bathed, got dresses, and by 6:15 we were moving out of Valley View estate…. My only concern was if the day progresses too much by the time we reach Modinagar and Meerut, we would get caught in the small town traffic and the entire journey will get slowed down… but fortunately by 8 we were out of Meerut.
And then began the scenic extravaganza…. Large trees – most probably mango – over hanging into the road forming picturesque tree tunnels… and then there were colonnades of tall eucalypti – or vast expanses of lush green fields… agricultural crop in full bloom… the views were breathtaking and there was no fatigue…. And we had not touched the hill yet!!! Meerut to Bijnaur…Bijnaur to Kotdwar… as we approached Kotdwar we could see the blue hills in the distance… the familiar sensation of excitement and awe of the mountains began to grow inside….

At Kotdwar, we crossed the Khoh river and entered right into the mountains… then began the sinuous trail through the mountains…. Unlike the road to Nainital, this one was narrow…but the condition was good….


As we climbed uphill, the flora changed…from deciduous to coniferous… the road wound around the slopes in steep curves revealing spectacular visuals at every turn… the weather was complimenting the sight….
And as we neared our destination, the pines became more frequent and dense… creating mesmerizing shadows within there forests…. As if some fairies will just fly out of one of those dark shadowy corners and fly past our car….

In six hours since we left Gurgaon, we saw the board that said “Welcome to Gharwal Rifles” …most of Lansdowne is the cantonment area…exquisitely maintained….like any other cantonment area… and rest of it was a sleepy little town with a central market place around a small elliptical park….and a narrow market lane going into the interiors of the town ….

What we did not account for is that it was the last weekend of June... peak season…and hence all hotel rooms were full…. There was nothing to be found… but the friendly talkative people of Lansdowne took it upon themselves to find an over-night shelter for the two of us…and finally this man, an instructor in the local ITI at Jaiharikhal, a still smaller sleepy town some 5 km away from Lansdowne offered to request his landlord to spare hi spare room for the night… we drove down to Jaiharikhal with him to take a look at what was in store for us…well it was not the epitome of luxury….but a small 4 X 6 bed in a small one-window-room opening into a balcony overlooking a beautiful valley…was not at all a bad deal for only 200 rupees….there was a toilet which could be accessed from the balcony… what else do we need just to rest for the night….
Having finalized our stay, we drove back to Lansdowne for some lunch….it was 2 o’clock by then…and it had started raining… the place looked all the more beautiful in the rains and the heavy mist that lingered all over the mountain slopes… lunch was great…aloo paranthas, one of which fills your stomach…and delicious too….

By the time our lunch was done, the rain had also mellowed down to a very slight drizzle…which doesn’t make you wet…we heard there is Bhulla lake…so we started walking uphill towards that….savouring every thing that the place has in offer….the dense pine forests…the panoramic view of the distant mountains…the pretty hill side houses with their wooden structures and decorated eaves…the healthy but short hill cows with their shiny coats…. As we walked we couldn’t stop from clicking pictures…we wanted to capture everything we see into pictures for us to remember for eternity….but of course…a lot of things can never be captured in pictures….like the drizzle, and the panoramic view…and the mist which kept disappearing and coming back again to engulf the entire hillside into a white cloudy envelope…..the experience was unforgettable….


Bhulla lake turned out to be a man-made lake but nonetheless beautiful…carved out of a trough in the hills….with paddle boats for joyrides….there were a small cage with friendly rabbits who would come near you if you call them and stand up in two feet expecting something from you…there were also ducks in the water crossing over to the other side for the night…..
Boating in Bhulla lake was quite relaxing….as the mist kept playing its game of suddenly enveloping everything and become clear again….the entire feeling was haunting and yet a sense of thrill made us enjoy every bit of it….


After boating we walked back to the market place and took our car for a ride up to this place called “Tip-in Top” (or is it Tiffin Top as the locals call it?) well it could have been either…. Probably the English went to this place for their picnics (or Tiffins) and hence Tiffin top… or you could just tip over this point into the bellies of the deep fathomless mountain valley and hence tip-in top…..

whatever the name is….the view from there is simply spectacular….one could see miles and miles of rolling hills from green to blue to still lighter blue and finally merging into the blue of the sky….and in the foreground beautiful valley with small clusters of houses strewn here and there and terraced hill sides in between….standing at that point I felt the vastness of the mountains once again…..and felt how small and insignificant we are in front of them…..


On the way to Tip-in Top we saw a church and on the way back we saw another…old English architecture....complete with aisles and altars…. And nowhere one could miss the foliage of the trees all over the place…. By the time we reached Lansdowne market back from Tip-in Top, it was dark…and we had to go 5km to Jaiharikhal through the dark mountain roads in the middle of forests….and we had heard stories of leopards picking up dogs from these small towns not so long back…. I could already anticipate the thrill…. We had a quick light dinner… and strtde our ride back to our night shelter… somewhere on the way I stopped the car in the middle of dense forests in the dark moonless night and switched off the car lights…. The feeling was something to be experienced
In the night from the terrace of the house we stayed in, we gazed at the sky and wondered how come we never see these millions of stars up there from our city homes….the night was comfortable…the morning was brilliant….we took a walk along the main street of the town…one tea shop had just opened…there was a small post office…the golden sun shone on the far peaks….




our friend who got us the room offered us tea at his house…tea was refreshing….and then after a quick bath and small snacky breakfast, we were off on the road again…this time for Tarakeshwar Temple….some 40 km drive from Lansdowne….we were a bit apprehensive, because we had heard from some talkative locals that the last 5/6 km of the road to Tarakeshwar was in a bad condition…there were large stones and it might be difficult for small cars like Zen to pass through….







….well when we reached that stretch, we realized our fears were uncalled for…the road was bad alright, but not THAT bad…. It was not leveled…whatever mud they had put in between the stones to level the road got washed off by heavy rains the night before….the bumps were not pleasant….after driving for some 20 minutes through that we reached a clearing meant for parking….it was almost empty…so we realized we were early…


As we walked past the main gate into a hilly trail we realized it was worth driving through the bad roads all this way…after a five minutes walk we reached a green bowl in between high green hills on all four sides…entirely covered with tall hundred plus years old magnificent deodars…. The sight was breathtaking….


After darshan we spent some time taking in the beauty of the place….and then the walk up to the parking and drive back to Lansdowne….by 2’oclock we were again in the market ….the heart had started becoming heavy at the thought of leaving the place….just didn’t want to…still home and work beckoned…after a light lunch we started our drive back home…another eight hours…a bad held up in traffic in Meerut and Modinagar….ten in the night we were at home…rejuvenated, refreshed…and full of pleasant memories…

NB: photographs courtesy rwitee! she's a brilliant photographer!






Wednesday, January 24, 2007

waiting for the sun to rise.....

the time that stood on the window sill mocking the dying light of the morning moon
watching through the hole in the mud wall he knew the sun would rise soon
the wind would blow again caressing the silver water on the backyard lake
he can find the dreams he had last night in the paper boats he'll make

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

....extract.....

"Not articulate. That takes effort. Spontaneous. Not like I would write a story. In that case I need to think. But I don't want to think. Just write." He felt his throat had gone dry. He took a large sip from his scotch gulped it down and shook his head as a shiver raw down his guts.
"And I want hope."
"Hope for what?"
"I don't know that either." He stopped and looked at the old man. His eyes were as intent and attentive as ever. And there was a hint of a gleam at the corners. Did he think Siddharth was a lunatic?
"You scare me." "What are you scared of? Life? This city? People?" the old man was talking again. He stared out of the window. The silhouette of a tree with fresh green leaves which looked hauntingly beautiful in the yellow light of the sodium vapour lamps. And through the leaves and a wide gap between two high rise buildings the moonlit night sky presented itself in a canvas. The old man stared at the sky for a few silent moments. Even the voices of the bar and the music of the band playing some strange melody at the far end had faded down into a quiet hum. And then he continued. "Look at the sky. The colour. It is blue. The clear milky blue of a spring night. Ain't it pretty?" "I don't know, I can't distinguish between good and bad. What's pretty and what's ugly." He took another sip from his whisky. His tone had suddenly become bitter. "They say the buildings are ugly. Look at them. Grey, stained and broken plaster. Pigeon shit and beehives. And the laundry on the railings. On sagging lines across those balconies. I don't know if that's ugly. Or if the spring sky is pretty. I never really look at the sky." Siddharth paused. And sighed. He wondered what he was saying. He had never talked so much for ages