The Fall

Dama Kant Jayshi

With a heavy heart Avichal started his most unpleasant part of the day - the walk back home. But he had to do it, at least for his mother. Mayuri and Srinivas wanted to drag him with them but his eyes stopped them. They understood. So here he was all alone, trudging his way to 68/1, B-Garden Road where Mr Sudarshan Pandey lived, whose son he happened to be.

It was the annual result day. The marksheet was in his bag. He could well foresee his father’s reaction as soon he would open the report-card. Why did it have to happen that way, always? Didn’t he try his best? Didn’t he slog day and night? Couldn’t Papa understand he had left no stone unturned? But it was simply beyond him .What could he do? Despite his utmost efforts, he still got poor marks in science group and mathematics - only 52 and 51 percent. In fact, it was an improvement on the last term. He had failed in all the four subjects then. Papa wouldn’t even see his marks in English (83%) Hindi (91%), History, Civics & Geography (80%) and Accounts (78%). His performance will be judged by science and mathematics marks alone.

Father would surely get apoplectic. By then he saw the B Garden mini. It was not that crowded. He was lucky to get a corner seat in the last row. So much the better. Near the jute-mill the bus had to stop because there had been a scuffle between two groups of young dadas over eve-teasing. The ‘area’ boys did not like intrusion by the Salkia boys, who had come to play a cricket match. How could anyone tease the girls of their area in their very domain, usurping their birthright? The police intervention prevented it from getting bad to worse. The time by the tall gentleman’s watch showed 2. Still 4 hours before father came back home. Instead of getting down at his own stop, Avichal decided to go to the ghat. It was his favourite place. The river with its pungent smell and occasional breeze always soothed him. And today he needed soothing more than ever.

Avichal put his bag down, sat on the marble step and took out his report-card. His mathematics marks reminded him of the beating Himanshu, Bobby, Sanjay got from heir mathematics teacher, RBT, their class teacher. These three had spoiled his record. They had dared to fail in the classteacher’s subjects. Neelam and Jayanti were made to kneel down. It didn’t matter that they were students of Class IX. The Royal Bengal Tiger was furious and growling. None dared to tell him that nobody understood his rendition of (a+b)2. Despite the best efforts to the contrary, if someone happened to ask him to re-explain a tricky point in algebra or geometry, that was it. ‘You don’t know this? How did you come to class IX? You should be thrown out of school.’ And he would go on. Only the bell would stop Mr R. B. Thomas.

That was in mathematics. In the One-horned Rhino’s class nobody would even think of making the mistake of asking anything. Not only had they heard from their seniors but the whacking that Navin got on the very second day of their new class told them which laws and theories governed the period. Navin,despite being warned, wanted to find it out himself about the truth of Mr Onkar Roy's temper. Sometimes the urge to find in practice what one hears extracts a heavy price.At least Navin should have taken into account Mr Roy's bulky size.Unfortunately for them, Mr Baruah left for another school that very year and all the senior students mourned the loss of a good teacher. OR made the gases and periodic table more terrible. And to add to the list there was Mr Burman who with his mixture of slow and fast delivery made the very mockery of vernier callipers and screw gauge.

Till the middle of class seven Avichal was very good in physics, chemistry, biology and mathematics. But the teachers’ ‘don’t ask me’ attitude killed whatever interest he had in these subjects. Then he started failing in them and once he started doing that, a fear-psychosis about these subjects developed in him. The fear grew, and his dislike grew with it and the dislike did not let him master the subjects. It was a vicious cycle. And his father wanted him to excel in these very dreaded subjects.

Mr Pandey was an upper division clerk in PWD. Having failed to get admission to IIT by a whisker, he could never overcome the shock. His grandmother had once told him that he had run away to Madras and returned only after 4 months. After completing his graduation he sat for the SSC exam and joined the department as a junior clerk. But he had never forgotten how narrowly he had missed becoming an architect. He wanted to fulfil his ambition through Avichal. This explained why he got books from his father on science and architectural wonders - both ancient and modern. He even discouraged others from giving his son any books other than those related with earth, stars, moon, electricity, magnet, bridges and houses. Avichal’s initiation to Tintin, Dennis the Menace, Archie, Henry and others was done by Himanshu, Mayuri and Srini.

Why couldn’t his father be like Mayuri’s and Srini’s father? He was like Anupam Kher of Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge. Srini had only got 55% overall. Mayuri, however, was the best student in the class. Avichal could defeat her only in English and Hindi, but Mr Reddy would take his children to a restaurant to celebrate their efforts and stepping into the last year of their school life. He was so encouraging and ever smiling. But his father in that role? No way. It was then that Avichal heard painful yelps and angry barks.

(To be continued next week)

The Cider House Rules

High in the crisp air of the Maine mountains, St. Cloud’s orphanage is fairly bursting with both love and melancholy. Its children lend it life, but they are always waiting, always praying that the next couple to stop by will pluck them from a caring but ultimately unsatisfying purgatory.

Overseeing them with a pragmatic, Yankee tough love is Dr. Wilbur Larch (Michael Caine), who is, as attached to the children.

But in "The Cider House Rules," the willowy, impressive filming of John Irving’s novel, Homer finds that the world outside St. Cloud’s holds many attractions and an equal amount of pitfalls and heartache.

When a young couple, Candy Kendall and her fly-boy beau Wally Worthington (Charlize Theron and Paul Rudd), come to St. Cloud’s for an abortion, Homer decides to broaden his horizons. Much to the deep annoyance of Dr. Larch, he leaves with them in their car and befriends them.

They journey first to the coast. Homer has never seen the ocean and then to Wally’s parents’ apple orchard, where Homer takes a job as the Worthingtons’ only white apple picker.

Things only get more complicated. Wally goes back to the war; Candy and Homer begin a deep friendship that eventually evolves into something more. And, as Homer lives in the cider house and befriends the apple pickers, led by Mr. Rose (Delroy Lindo), he learns that the rules posted in the house are not the only rules to live by.

Dr. Larch, meanwhile, is growing increasingly frail and addicted to ether. The efforts of his nurses (Jane Alexander, Kathy Baker) to convince him that Homer has not betrayed him fail; he is bitter at his protege’s departure and lets him know that. But Homer, who quotes "David Copperfield" and wants to be "the hero of my own life," needs to let more of the world in; he stays away.

As he grows ever more ensnared in Candy, in the machinations of the cider house workers and in his desire to find out who he is, rules are broken, compromises made and people hurt. Homer wanted to find out about life, and he does sometimes ecstatically, sometimes painfully.

John Irving’s works always have a leisurely epic feel to them; momentous personal events happen against sweeping backdrops (the grand Maine landscape and World War II, in this case). But Irving, who wrote the screenplay, always grounds us in the subtleties of daily life. The dialogue, especially that given to Candy and Mr. Rose, rings completely true. Top-notch performances by Lindo and the luminous Theron don’t hurt matters.

And Maguire ("Pleasantville") is perfect as Homer. By all accounts, Maguire’s sheepish smiles and aw-shucks delivery shouldn’t work. But they do. It’s something behind the eyes, something genuine and whimsically sad, that makes him utterly convincing.

Caine, with the serious face of an aging Buster Keaton and a credible northeastern American accent, breathes life magnificently into Dr. Larch. This is a man who knows the world’s cruelties and likes the shelter of his rural orphanage just fine, thank you.

"What’s an immigrant?" a frail orphan named Fuzzy asks him.

Responds Larch: "Someone not from Maine."

Also praiseworthy is the young Paz De La Huerta, who plays Mary Agnes, a pubescent orphan with such a crush on Homer that she pinches her cheeks to flush them when he approaches.

Irving and director Lasse Hallstrom ("What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?") have put together a memorable experience of texture, yearning and love of many different natures. Larch and Homer love each other but can’t communicate; Homer and Candy communicate perfectly but shouldn’t be in love; Mr. Rose and his daughter (musician Erykah Badu, in her movie debut) share a secret that threatens to destroy their love.

Compromises and betrayals are everywhere; nobody is entirely clean. But the movie is not moralistic in its exploration of morality; it simply documents, however harrowing, life’s circuitous paths.

Its ultimate message is positive: You have to write your own story, even if the plot twists aren’t what you’ve anticipated. That’s a good moral, and it’s just one of the things that make "The Cider House Rules" a movie that lingers long after the lights come up.

"The Cider House Rules" is a Miramax Films release of a Filmcolony Production.

Reviewed by Ted Anthony (AP)

How to make A Nepali phone call

Mark Turin

Each and every culture has its own complicated rules of telephonic communication,usually impossible for outsiders to understand. In Italy, for example, you answer the phone with the single word pronto, which literally means ‘I’m ready’, all the more ironic because you wonder whether they are ever really ready in Italy. It must be one of the few languages in the world in which the first word you utter as you pick up the phone when it rings, is not something like hello. In Holland, you have to introduce yourself when you phone someone, anyone, even a total stranger at the bank. I remember once when I phoned a shop in Amsterdam to see whether or not they were open on Saturdays, and the owner was insulted that I hadn’t introduced myself. Only after I had told him my name, which of course he immediately forgot, would he answer my query.

When it comes to telephonic introductions, Nepal is a law unto itself. It is of course possible that Nepali phone manners of today date back to a time when there were few phones in Kathmandu and even fewer outside. Seen historically, this would explain certain idiosyncratic habits of an archetypal Nepali phone conversation. Here are a few typical examples of possible phone scenarios in Nepal.

1. "Where Have I Called?" or kahaa paryo?

On the face of it, when you pick up the phone, say "hello", and the person calling asks where they have called, you have good reason for being thoroughly confused. This existential-sounding question may well come from an era in which phone lines were often crossed and you ended up in Kirtipur when you phoned Thimi. In this situation, it would make a lot of sense to double check that your phone call has indeed arrived at its designated destination. However, in this day and age of mobile cell phones and email, asking where you have called when you yourself are the caller verges on the surreal. There are a range of answers to the question. The most common and most reasonable one is to reply with the name of the area in which you, the recipient of the call, are to be found. Some phone users like to embellish their answers with something on the lines of: "Haandi Gaun, and from that big tree with the Krishna Mandir in it, well from there, walk down the hill and round the corner and then the third gate on the left with the sleeping dog outside." And then there are the real jokers of the phone world, who, when asked: "Where have I called?", reply kaan-maa paryo ("You have reached my ear!"). Another group worth mentioning are those who reply with a psychologically combative answer on the lines of: "You have reached wherever it is that you dialed." The possibilities are endless.

2. "Who Are You?" or tapaai ko bolnu bhaeko?

Aside from Nepal, in all other countries where I have had phone conversations, the above question is asked by the recipient of the call to establish to whom it is that he is speaking. If the caller fails to identify him or herself, the person answering the phone is perfectly entitled to ask "And may I ask to whom am I speaking?". In Nepal, this entitlement falls to the caller. Having established that he has indeed reached Lazimpat, he then proceeds to question the very identity of the person he has phoned. Speaking from personal experience, I must add that it can get a little tiresome to be asked where I am and who I am each time I answer the phone. When asked: "Who is speaking?", if feeling a little confrontational, you can always answer simply "me".

3. The Telephone Child

"Hello" says the little voice, and when you hear that, in many cases you might as well give up trying to salvage a normal phone call. All over Nepal, in the most unlikely places, are children whose favourite game is answering the telephone. Children aged three to five, I might add, not nine to twelve. Sometimes they sit so close to the phone and answer it with such speed that no adult in earshot has any idea that the phone has even rung. Once they have answered it, the callers are their captives and have no choice but to speak to the child until he or she gets bored or decides that the caller has indeed answered sufficient questions to be permitted to speak to the parents. A close friend living in Pokhara has a telephone-fixated four-year old son. He is always the first to answer the phone when it rings, and goes through all the established Nepali phone rituals, describing where he is and who he is, and then concludes with a little invention of his own. "Mama" he growls, "khaanaa khaayau ki khaaeko chaina?" (Uncle, have you eaten or not?). It is simply impossible to speak to his parents without first answering his questions, quite a bother when phoning from Europe. On the other hand, there is something to be said for giving the little man the freedom to express himself, even if it does lead to higher telephone bills.

Above then, a few of the most frequently occurring features of Nepali phone calls. Remember: next time you call someone, don’t forget to ask who and where they are.

Wine Therapy amidst the vine yards

Annik Bianchini

After succesfully launching beauty products based on grape pips, a close-knit, dynamic team in Bordeaux has undertaken a new challenge by creating a health farm where treatment is based on wine.

In the heart of the vineyard producing the most prestigious Chateau Smith Haut-Lafitte Graves vintage wine, in the Bordeaux region, Daniel and Florence Cathiard, the owners of the vineyard recently embarked on the brand new concept of wine therapy, or balneotherapy based on products coming from vines. "What thalassotherapy does with seaweed, we do with grapes," Florence Cathiard, a former skiing champion just like her husband, resumes. The Caudalie Spa, which is the first beauty institute in the world to use the polyphenols of grapes, is based on the famous French paradox. The latter puts the stress on the benefits of wine, especially red wine, which, consumed in moderation, prevents and reduces the risk of cardiovascular disease. The health farm, with its fine Gascon architecture and old oak beams built by a guild of specialized craftsmen, clearly stands out from other spas. The first surprise is the red-vine bath tub, a kind of giant Jacuzzi shaped like a barrel in which water from a hot spring coming from 540 metres underground, bubbles. It is enriched with fresh micro-desegregated 'marc' (the residue of crushed grapes) and essential oils. After a short break to enjoy a herbal brew of red vine and cinnamon or a glass of freshly pressed grape juice, it is time for being covered in honey and wine. The body is smeared with a paste based on wine yeast, honey from the Gronde region, essential oils and spring water full of iron and fluoride. You are left to pickle in an electric blanket for a quarter of an hour and you come out with silky-soft, pink, moisturized skin.

Anti-ageing properties ten thousand times more powerful than vitamin E

It all began in September 1993 when Mathilde and Bertrand Thomas, who were still students, attended a lecture by a scientist at the university of Bordeaux, Professor Joseph Vercauteren, the head of the laboratory of Pharmacology who had just patented a process for stabilizing the phenols contained in grape pips. These active elements have anti-ageing properties that are ten thousand times more powerful than vitamin E. According to him, there is nothing like them for fighting free radicals which are 80% responsible for the ageing of the skin. Mathilde and Bertrand thus had the idea of using grape-pip phenols, which had, until then, been unusable in cosmetics precisely because of their instability. The Caudalie firm went into business in 1994. The word (caudalie) in French is a unit of measure used in wine-tasting. Today, the brand, which has 1,700 sales outlets in France, mainly in pharmacies, has 13 completely pure, natural products without any colouring, such as creams, masks, body lotions, exfoliants etc. However, it has not forgotten its original vocation which was to combine science and nature to fight wrinkles and a poor complexion. With 10% of its turnover devoted to research, caudalie confirms that it well and truly belongs to the club of innovative firms. The company employs 32 people in addition to the team of professionals at the centre and makes 25% of its sales from exports including a large portion in Britain, France’s overseas departments and territories, Brazil and, especially, the United States.

The envy of the whole world

To receive elegant clients seeking relaxation and youth, intoxication with well-being is not enough. The setting has to match the situation. The high class hotel complex comprises the establishment devoted to anti-age treatment, and slimming, two gastronomical restaurants with its Cigar Tower, and twenty-nine rooms, all different, with evocative names. Marie-Louise Banyols, a trained wine expert, runs the French Paradox bar, the cookery school, the wine-tasting classes and, of course, the wine-cellar which contains the ten thousand best wines in the world. Didier Banyols, her husband, a two-star chef in the Michelin guide, plans low-calorie menus in his two restaurants (La Grand Vigne) and the less formal (Table du Lavoir) which do not leave anyone hungry. The institute and its luxury hotel called for 60 million francs (10 million dollars) in investments paid for by Mathilde, nee Cathiard’s parents. , "We have the means to meet our ambitions", the hostess, who used to be in charge of five business, simply states. Although it is a new idea, it is already attracting a lot of interest, especially from abroad. The continually growing reservations book bears this out. It is true that the formula combines useful treatment with pleasure. The exquisite dishes, the fine wines and the good cigars play an important part in the stay. "Our concept is the envy of the whole world", Mathilde declares. "We have already received an offer to buy our wine therapy license in the States. We are closely considering this project, with a possible opening in 2001".

(Actualite en France)

Faces of Sherpa

Pema Sherpas

Sherpas inhabiting the northern part of Sagarmatha Zone are at best known all over the world as sturdy simple hill folk with unparallel mountaineering skills. Prior to the advent of tourism in Solukhumbu, Sherpas were critically dependent upon agriculture, animal husbandry, and trans-himalayan trade for their livelyhood. The gradual advent of tourism has altered the economic scenario of Khumbu in a big way as Sherpas are being employed in trekking expeditions. James F. Fisher in his book, "Reflection on change in Himalayan Nepal" gives a record of 50 Sherpas employed by the British in their first attempt on Mt Everest in the year 1992. It is needless to mention that foreigners often seek the company of Sherpa climbers because of their efficiency, friendliness and unquestionable loyalty. There are several such instances and to quote one is the great deed of Sherpa Galay. Afermath of the summit, the deteriorated health condition made Willy Merkl (the leader of 1934 German expedition to Nanga Parbat, in the distant corner of Indian territory) helpless, and to accept death rather than to struggle on and to the lower camps. His compatriot Galay Sherpa didn’t leave him alone for death to befall but brought him safely back. Their heroic deeds didn’t go unpaid or unawarded. As from1938 onwards, porters hired were mostly from the Sherpa community, and the ethnic Sherpa became synonymous to a porter.

However, in the present context, it is totally unjustified to qualify the word porter for a Sherpa as Sherpas have built up wide networks in other professions too. The first ever Sherpa film ‘Khangri’ produced by a Sherpa illustrates this fact. Today Sherpas are proud to have among themselves doctors, engineers, pilots, environmentatlists etc and people playing major roles in building of the nation. Wihile discussing the eductaional development in Khumbu, we can not ignore the major role played by some Europeans, who were impressed with the simple hillfolk in their brief sojourn incourse of treking an mountain expeditions. They have provided scholarships for children education and have sponsored a number of them for higher eduction abroad. This apart, Sir Edmund Hillary’s Himalayan Trust, the pioneer in the development of Khumbu has veen supporting students for higher education both in Nepal and abroad. A few decades back, the characteristics feature of Khumbu was one of, lack of awareness, infrastructure and a communication gap with the rest of the world. The people at large were deprived of primary modes of obtaining and transmitting knowledge. The onus of this task fell on the shoulders of Sir Edmund Hillary by opening a promary school in Khumjung in 1961, followed by Panboche and Thamai.

The overall educational development in this region is still much required and desired. Nonetheless, the identity which Shepas have built through the mountain is too precious to lose. Excepting few, majority Sherpas are still mountain men and will countinue to be so.

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