| Wednesday , May 29 , 2013 |
- Tribal lensman wows Brazil | ||
| ACHINTYA GANGULY | ||
At a time when most young photographers are happy to upload feel-good images on Facebook, the lens of a tribal youth has captured gritty moments of the daily struggle of people living near Jadugoda uranium mines.
Shutterbug Ashish Birulee from Jadugoda accomplished the rare feat of getting 38 photographs exhibited as part of the 3rd International Uranium Film Festival, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
The exhibition, which ran at the Museum of Modern Art in Rio de Janeiro from May 16 to 26, showcased photographs portraying the harmful effects of radiation — chronic health problems and deformities — faced by people living near uranium mines in Jadugoda, East Singhbhum.
Besides Ashish, the other photographer whose frames were displayed was New Delhi’s Chinkey Shukla.
Ashish’s photographs shared the title of the film made by Ranchi-based national award winner Shriprakash, “Buddha weeps in Jadugoda”. Chinkey’s photographs were clubbed under the title “Jadugoda: the nuclear graveyard”.
Unfortunately, 24-year-old Ashish could not go to Rio as his passport was not ready. But, talking to The Telegraph over phone from Jadugoda, he sounded happy that his photographs were showcased in the prestigious platform. “I sent 38 black-and-white photographs on the subject. They mostly focus on physical deformities caused by radiation,” he said.
Ashish, who belongs to the Ho tribe, is a final-year sociology student enrolled in a distant education programme under EIILM University, Sikkim. Born and brought up in the area, the youth was exposed early in his life to the plight of people residing in and around mining areas.
“I became interested in photography when I got a chance to assist Sriprakash in making a film. Later, I also assisted some Australian photographers,” Ashish, who wants to become a cinematographer and make social documentaries, said.
Sriprakash, in Rio, said the photography exhibition received raves.
“This is for the first time that a Jharkhand adivasi photographer’s work has been exhibited in the international arena,” Sriprakash wrote in an e-mail to The Telegraph.
(courtesy - http://www.telegraphindia.com/1130529/jsp/jharkhand/story_16945697.jsp#.Ua3vsNKBkab) |
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Pictures tell untold stories - Tribal lensman wows Brazil
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Adivasi imprints get into print
Adivasi imprints get into print- Three amateurs launch publishing house Adivaani | ||
SUSHOVAN SIRCAR
“In the beginning there was no land. Everything was under water
Thakur Jiv, the Supreme Being was present. As were the Bongas
The Bongas asked for Thakur Jiv’s blessing to create human beings
If it so be desired, we will create them”
— We Come from the Geese, an illustrated children’s book published by Adivaani
The Santhals were born through a stroke of godly ingenuity, says the book of creation of India’s first inhabitants.
To create Adivaani, a publishing house launched by a group of three amateurs to lend a voice to the nation’s indigenous population, months of human planning and perseverance were required.
Ruby Hembrom, a 35-year-old IT professional “with a big idea and little money”, started Adivaani in July last year with two friends — Mexican journalist Luis Gomez and Joy Tudu, a Jharkhand-based tribal rights activist.
“It’s a time machine for the Adivasis,” she said. “Our history and stories have been passed down generations orally. Since these tales are steadily vanishing, documentation is the key to their survival. Adivaani is primarily an attempt to let people know that we are capable of writing, too.”
“We at Adivaani want to go back in time to rescue what was left behind and leave something tangible for the future…. The countdown has begun,” their website says.
Daughter of a Bishop’s College theology professor, Calcutta-born Ruby studied at La Martiniere for Girls and took a degree in law from Calcutta University.
She has been with the IT industry in Gurgaon and Calcutta for the past 10 years, happily earning a good pay until she was overcome by the urge to do something meaningful for her largely invisible community.
The first step was to join a publishing course in April 2012. She soon realised that the tribal voice was missing from the popular discourse. The disappointment spawned the idea of setting up a publishing house: “One that is by the Adivasis and not by an urban historian writing from a pedestal.”
She found two amazing partners in her endeavour. Gomez was Ruby’s batchmate at the publishing course along with Tudu. He had two decades of experience in writing on the indigenous people in Latin America.
Their first book was out in October last year. It’s a translation of her father’s doctoral dissertation, Santal: Sirjon Binti Ar Bhed-Bhangao.
This one along with Santhal writer and blogger Gladson Dungdung’s Whose Country is it Anyway and We Come from the Geese were released at the New Delhi World Book Fair in February.
“Allowing the tribal people to write for themselves certainly gives the story a greater sense of autonomy,” said Tudu, who distributes Adivaani’s books across Ranchi and Dumka.
“The books were reasonably priced and attractively designed. Our inbox was flooded with mail soon after their release,” said Gomez, who looks after Adivaani’s technical side.
Calcutta, however, was cold in the beginning. “We expected a similar reception in Calcutta but no distributor or bookstore was forthcoming,” Ruby rued.
Finally, after several failed attempts across the city, she found Earthcare Books on Middleton Street. “I was surprised by the reception. They gladly accepted my books,” Ruby said. “I had just three copies of each book in my bag.” Barely 30 minutes after she stepped out of the store, the manager called: “Send as many copies of We Come from the Geese as possible.”
Store manager Sumit Sarkar said: “We support books on development and alternative subjects. Adivaani seemed interesting.”
There has been a steady demand from the Calcutta bookstore and two others in Ranchi. Ruby and her friends have nearly completed work on the second instalment of the illustrated book.
Boski Jain, another friend from the publishing course, chipped in with the illustrations. “Several schools in Ranchi have picked up our books for their libraries. Some stores in New Delhi are displaying them, too,” Tudu said.
For the time being the start-up venture is running on loads of goodwill and generosity, including Ruby’s salary from her IT job. Registering the publishing house and printing a thousand copies of the three books at a press on Amherst Street cost about Rs 1.5 lakh. The world wide web is doing its bit. “We planned to raise $5,000 (about Rs 2.75 lakh), but managed only $120 (about Rs 6,585) in two months. It’s okay for a start,” Gomez said.
They have some expansion plans. “We will gradually venture into writings by other communities such as the Kodas, the Mundas and the Oraons,” Ruby said.
(courtesy - http://www.telegraphindia.com/1130518/jsp/calcutta/story_16757687.jsp#.UaS7JtKBklh ) |
Tribal cool on SMS - Smartphone app for Ol Chiki
Tribal cool on SMS
- Smartphone app for Ol Chiki
| OUR CORRESPONDENT | ||
Henda ho, am dom Santhal kana?
Hello, are you a Santhal? If so, there’s great news for you. Very soon, you can use your own language to SMS friends and relatives on your Smartphone.
Yes, Ol Chiki, the Santhal script, has now been converted as a downloadable app by a Jhargram-based civil engineer Kunar Hembram (50).
Hembram, a civil engineer and self-employed professional, came to Jamshedpur to launch his labour of love — it took him “a couple of years” to develop the app named Santhali Mobile Software — on Friday.
Jamshedpur (East) MLA Raghubar Das was the chief guest during the launch.
Hembram, an unusual techie, has been associated with Santhali literary outfits and developed digital versions of the tribal language.
Way back in 2001, when the Internet was in its infancy in India, he had developed a script conversion software to translate English, Hindi and Bengali to Ol Chiki and vice-versa.
Since 2008, techies have developed the Ol Chiki unicode — the software to support the script’s characters digitally — and patented them. But an authoritative, standardised version of a Santhali unicode is awaited.
Hembram has taken his version and made it compatible for cellphones, equipping the software with automatic spell-check. “Once I put it up on the Internet, users can download the app and install it in Smartphones for messaging,” Hembram said.
Right now, one has to get the app from Hembram personally via Bluetooth.
On teething troubles, Hembram added: “Ol Chiki also needs a standard key code. In English, alphabets stay in the same position in desktops, laptops and Smartphones, thanks to Qwerty”.
While Hembram pushes the case to standardise the digital use of Ol Chiki, he is also ushering in a unique revolution. Santhali youngsters can finally use their script — not Roman alphabets — to SMS something as basic as “hi, how are you? (chele cheg leka menama?)” or “catch you later (arhon lang natama)”. Cool.
(courtesy - http://www.telegraphindia.com/1130525/jsp/jharkhand/story_16933214.jsp#.UaS7JtKBklh ) |
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