Tag Archives: New Zealand

Game Of The Gods: A Billion Dreams

What makes people take their life over a mere sport? Like the Kolkata man did over Dhoni’s run out, widely regarded as the pivotal moment in India’s dashed hopes of making it to the World Cup final. This sport has made grown men and women break down in ways completely unimaginable. The World Cup final proved that nice guys do not finish last. While England won, based on some archaic rule, underdogs New Zealand, won the hearts of anyone obsessed with this sport, which is often called the gentleman’s game. And in this final, it appeared the nicest boys in the game lost to the inventors and often the ones most vilified by Indians worldwide, thanks to our colonial past.
Sports, religion, culture and life. There seems to be no semblance of a difference, given the behavior of cricket teams on the pitch; like the laidback party vibes of the West Indies, a modern South Africa, emerging from the shadows of apartheid, not to speak of Pakistan and Bangladesh forever trying to assert their stamp over their proverbial father, India.
Meanwhile, India struggles with the worst hangover ever. A sport that is tailor made to the age old Indian values of guru-shishya, discipline, mindfulness, rigor, slogging without reward, and a deep defiance to the colonial sword of the British.
For every Indian kid taking up the willow, it is akin to brandishing a sword at their colonial former masters’ throats. Like a rebel call, any cricketer drawn from the subcontinent, male or female, looks at the game as a way to express themselves so they may each serve as a role model of taking down the bastion of British imperialism.
This is why the Indian diaspora, from US TO UK to India to Australia and New Zealand, descended in droves for the UK-hosted World Cup. We believed that we would be valiant. The finals, won by the hosts in a contentious contest and after dubious decision making, reminded us of our own nebulous and dysfunctional relationships with our families and loved ones. Pakistan and India – when it comes to cricket it is the closest we come to war. The many moments of cross border valor on the field have been highlighted amply on YouTube. It’s made legends of ordinary cricketers like Venkatesh Prasad and Gods of mortals like Yuvraj Singh and Sachin Tendulkar.
Sachin is God. Not because of his array of shots for every ball, but his grit, disciple, single minded devotion for the sport and his record against Pakistan. Sachin against any nation could have been equally heroic, but against Pakistan, he proved his mettle time and again. And that’s what the legends will retell. A 16 year old boy, bloodied by the fearsome twosome of Pakistan; Wasim and Waqar. How this little boy defied them, and took the feared Pakistani and subsequently other opposition players to the sword, has led to generations naming their young infants, Sachin.
Why do Indians relate to cricket at such a deep level? It is pretty obvious that we are a one sport nation. It’s because through cricket we have found a way to throw off the colonial shackles. To beat the inventors of the game that rampantly abused our emotions for three centuries. Every far flung six, or blow at 90 mph at their heads, is a reaffirmation of our masculinity. That’s why this puzzling game which depends on weather, statistics, skills, fitness and an assortment of colorful men endures. We don’t need more teams, we need more competitive teams. The game that led to nations wanting to destroy the inventors of the game on the field, has taken unprecedented proportions.
For every time a Mahendra Dhoni lifts  the cup, a  young boy (and now lass) realizes that the best revenge is to keep beating the English. In this most baffling, romantic, frustrating and tearful of sports, cricket for Indians isn’t just passion, it’s an obsession. The next time, India will host the World cup. And after the hoopla over the current champions, England dies down, Indians will be collectively bleeding blue. And screaming for the Cup that brought the entire British empire down, in a glorious heated Indian summer sunset.
Currently, Virat Kohli, the much tattooed and omnipotently talented batsman is leading millenial India’s charge into the dawn. His rebellious, foul mouthed, gladitorial beard and impeccable physique have not only inspired a generation of cricket fans, but inspired a clone army. The Give Blood or Bleed Blue army. A fitness icon, he has inspired a new India to go fearlessly after what is s yours, and sometimes even after what is not.  He is the direct descendent of Sourav Ganguly, the blue blooded Royal who made Gods of gifted but unsure youngsters. Under his tutelage, India witnessed the renaissance of cricket. Coinciding with the liberalization of India, a whole generation learnt to dream big. No dream was out of reach. And you could scream open lunged at the wide heavens while you brandished your shirt, naked torsoed and aggressive to the core, like a victory flag at Lord’s, like Sourav did. This openly victorious walk of Godly stature, and defiance, and the proof that yes, we could be the Gods on Earth, in something led to an open revolution.
From the cricket obsessed Google CEO Sunder Pichai to every actor who dreams of starring in the next cricket legends’s biopic, to the school boy and girl who know that their dream is just a stroke away. For this is the a game of Gods, played by and for romantics. For every heartbreaking win and every exhilarating shot out of the ground, a new generation is captivated by the imagination of the game. To know that you don’t have to be the fittest, the strongest, the most powerful. What you need is a stroke of luck, reasonable talent and timing, a vibrant personality and a screen presence. For when the lights go down, we need Gods to merge into our consciousness. They glance at the sun superstitiously, adjust their pads, tweak their helmets, but never lose sight of the fact that they’re still chasing down the glory of the British empire on behalf of each and every one of us!

New Zealand Beckons: Milford Sound


Lake Watakipu      A
ccording to Maori legend, Lake Wakatipu was formed when the body of a sleeping giant was burnt by a Maori warrior, who wanted to ensure that the giant could never kidnap his beautiful daughter again. The fire caused the ice and snow on the surrounding mountains to melt, forming Lake Wakatipu. We drive past this turquoise glass-like lake from Queenstown, on our way to Milford Sound or Fjord land in the South Island of New Zealand, where the journey is touted to be as spectacular as the destination! We arrive at Te Anau which is the picturesque town that acts as the gateway to the fjords with the almost-perfect Lake Gunn. Its name is derived from Maori words Te Ana Au, meaning “cave of swirling waters.” These caves were forgotten for years till they were rediscovered in 1948. Today the caves are popular with visitors who descend into their depths, and glide through a grotto illuminated by glow-worms.

The road from Te Anau to Milford Sound is often lauded as one of the most scenic highways in the world, reaching a height of almost 1,000m!  The winding road enters the spectacular golden- grassed Eglinton Valley where we stop to take photos and stretch our legs. Standing in knee-high grass with snow-capped mountains in the background, it is hard not to feel like I am the heroine in a blockbuster!  Some scenes from the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (shot entirely in New Zealand) were based in the Eglinton Valley. We take a walk through a forest with primordial mystique that has silver ferns blanketing the floor of a beech forest—the moist environment gives rise to emerald mosses, old man’s beard and lichens. It reminds me of a forest from a child’s fairytale where elves and gnomes might just appear at the next corner! Moss and algae cover everything; the trees drip epiphytes. There is the earthy smell of leaf litter and moist soil in the air.

We drive past a landscape of snowy peaks, alpine lakes and primeval forests, in this massive World Heritage area with 14 fjords that slash into its coastline. This is also a region that gets up to twenty  feet of rainfall every year. We walk to the glassy Mirror Lakes, whose sapphire waters reflect the picture perfect Earl mountains. We come back to the parking lot to see the brazen Alpine parrot called Kea sitting on our parked vehicle. It is notorious for its penchant for chewing the rubber off car windows, breaking in, and eating the upholstery!

Driving alongside green pastures, dotted with zillions of sheep, craggy peaks and high plateaus, we approach the Homer Tunnel built out of solid granite. This took over twenty years to build, keeping men employed during the Depression and I hear that they built it with just their bare hands and pickaxes. We stop at another viewpoint where I walk through a wooden walkway—a series of paths and bridges to the Chasm, a 400 metre loop with a series of swirling waterfalls, rushing water gurgling and racing deep underground,   rapids and sensuous curves gouged out by millennia of erosion in the path of the Cleddar River. The force of the water and rocks being carried in the current have created sculpted rocks, basins and holes that remind me of abstract art.

We finally arrive at Milford Sound which is steeped in history and legend— the Maori attribute its creation to the god Tu-te-raki-whanoa, who was called away before he could carve a proper route, leaving high rock walls! The Maori are believed to have discovered the region over thousand years ago, going there to collect greenstone or pounamu, which they used to carve jewellery and weapons. They named the Sound Piopiotahi after a thrush-like bird, which is now extinct. John Grono was the first European settler in Milford in 1912; he renamed the sound Milford after Milford Haven in Wales. I hear that Milford is at its best in the rain, something that happens very often. And sure enough, within minutes of our arrival there is a light drizzle and every cliff-face sprouts a waterfall and the place looks even more magical, as a shroud of ethereal mist descends on us. Some of the waterfalls are slender and pencil thin, landing in a powdery white mist; others are furious and strong as they pour ferociously over the cliff edges.Stirling Falls

We board our ship aptly named “Southern Discoveries,” and sail along the ancient path of ice. Our guide explains that Milford is actually not a Sound which is technically an area eroded by a river, but a fjord which is a drowned area created by a glacier. Milford is flanked entirely by sheer rock faces, some of which tower almost 5,000 feet high and the channel is more than 1,300 feet deep in some places, making this a very unique experience!  Dominated by the steep slopes of the Southern Alps, it takes its name from the deep lakes and ocean-flooded valleys that resemble the fjords of Scandinavia! I take out my beanie, scarf and bundle myself in fleece as I step on to the deck of the ship. It’s a great feeling battling the elements and soaking in the jaw dropping scenery.

It’s all about sheer scale and size. I gaze entranced at waterfalls that plummet down the cliffs, woven with rainbows. In the distance, the iconic 1692m-high Mitre Peak (Mitre comes from the word for a bishop’s hat, which it’s supposed to resemble) rises tall from the water. We edge closer to the tallest waterfall—the Stirling Falls which is three times the height of the Niagara Falls and as the captain navigates the ship under its thunderous cascades, I scuttle for cover, covering my camera with a plastic cover! We see fur seals slouching and basking on a rock almost camouflaged by the colour of the rock. The sharp-eyed guide points to bottle nosed dolphins. Verdant palettes of moss ridden rock, the grey sheet of rain, the white foam of the waterfalls, all pass me in the blink of an eye, as I huddle under the cowl of my rain coat, on the upper deck of the boat. The occasional whale makes its way into the sound to play before disappearing back to sea. The haunting, misty ambience stays in my mind for a long time to come—no wonder Rudyard Kipling described the dramatic Milford Sound as the eighth wonder of the world! It’s truly Mother Nature at her best.

How to get there:
Fly to Singapore and connect to Auckland.
Where to stay:
Milford Sound can be done as a convenient day trip from Queenstown. There are many coach companies which do these tours with scenic stops on the way. You can also stay at  Te Anau or the Milford Sound Lodge nestled beneath the towering peaks of the Darran Mountains; this lodge provides river view chalets near the Fiordland National Park There is also a campervan option. If you wish to see some of New Zealand’s most dramatic scenery in style, splurge on a helicopter to Milford Cruise from Queenstown.

Things to do:Plants in Milford Sound
No visit to Milford Sound  is complete without a boat cruise around this iconic fiord. Discover towering waterfalls, lush rainforest, sheer granite cliffs and marine life. You can also kayak the inky waters in a small group. Fjord land is a world-famous hiking paradise. Whether you decide on a multi-day adventure like the Milford Track or a shorter day walk, exploring on foot makes for a rewarding experience.

Shopping:

Buy Pau shell jewellery, Maori carvings and Manuka honey.

Best Time to Visit:

An all year destination; but, since it is in the Southern hemisphere, December is their summer.

What to carry:

A waterproof jacket with a hood and  an umbrella as this region is wet and windy.

Dining Options:

Restaurant options are limited. Boat cruises serve sandwiches,  cake, ice cream, and coffee. A good option is to carry a packed lunch.
Visit http://www.newzealand.com
Kalpana Sunder is a travel writer and blogger based in Chennai, India who blogs at http://kalpanasunder.com/blog

First published in November 2016

Bollywood Hums to New Zealander’s Tunes

 Surprising fact: a New Zealander created the music for the Bollywood movies Margarita with a Straw and Bombay Velvet. He won “Best Composer” at the 2015 Asian Film Awards for the former. His name is Mikey McCleary.

musicmcl

McCleary was born in Chennai to New Zealander parents, but then moved out of India. When you listen to his music, it feels like 1970s-80s Bollywood music on steroids. His website, mikeymccleary.com has a sampling of his work, including Quick Gun Murugan, many well known commercials (Lakme, Cinthol, TVS Scooty), and a couple of his own albums. All of his work has a distinct, smooth sound that blends western and Indian influences.

How does a New Zealander “get” Bollywood? McCleary is not sure how that came to be, saying “Perhaps my family’s connection with India has helped me adapt. I’ve always enjoyed doing many different styles of music and I like the challenge of trying to understand Indian music and incorporate elements in my work.”

McCleary was re-introduced to India when he was working for a studio in London, focusing on Western music. He got lucky, literally, when he met Lucky Ali and started making music for his albums. That collaboration spurred him into attending Indian music concerts and working with other music directors such as A.R. Rahman.

The following interview Mikey McCleary attempts to score his career.

When and why did you decide to move to Bombay?
I moved about seven years ago. I had this feeling of ‘I must try living in India sometime’ building up inside me. I came here because it’s such a fascinating place and full of interesting music opportunities.

Which was your first TV commercial and first film?
It was a Lakme TV ad sung by Anushka Manchanda. First film was Aao Wish Karein.

What made you think up “Bartender,” the stage name for your own albums? Could you expand on that, share that moment of epiphany?
Well, it was a combination of things. When I started playing around with old songs and re-inventing them, I was making “smoky late night bar” type versions of these songs. The name Bartender seemed to suit the mood. Also Bartenders mix up concoctions much like I mix up music.

Specifically about Margarita with a Straw: How did that come about?
I met the director, Shonali Bose, after Shaad Ali recommended me to her. We started work on this film more than two years ago. Despite it being stretched out, the process always remained fresh and captivating. The last song (“Choone Chali Aasman”) was the toughest to finish. Even though the composition came really fast we couldn’t find the right voice to sing the song. After trying seven different voices out, we came back to the first singer Rachel Varghese. Often, first instincts are best. Winning the best composer award at Asian Film Awards was a huge bonus, particularly as I was getting married in New Zealand at the time of the award ceremony.

Did you get to see rushes of the movie while you were working on it, or just the plot, or …
First, I read the script and then worked on a few songs which were needed pre-shoot. After that, I saw many different edits as the film was fine-tuned. During that period, I did most of my composition for the other songs and the music score.

You are a music man. How do you craft your videos, which have an edgy vibe of their own?
Last year I made eight music videos. Many had interesting stories. I think the simplest and best one is
“The little things you do” featuring Anushka Manchanda. It was just Anushka, my director of photography and I who went off to Goa and made this video with very little budget and no production help. Somehow, it turned out nice.

In another one called “Aaj ki Raat” I created a film noir mystery story which involved romance, betrayal and murder in the bath tub. This was a huge challenge because we had many actors, it was technically very difficult in terms of lighting and set design, plus I tried to fit the plot of a full feature film into a three minute video.
(Both of these videos can be watched at mikeymccleary.com)

Priya Das is an enthusiastic follower of world music and avidly tracks intersecting points between folk, classical, jazz, and other genres.