KJ Antoji, a resident of the coastal village of Chellanam, Kochi in Kerala, was working as a wire technician in 1988. In the ‘place where no one goes’, the unreliability of the Kerala Water Authority (KWA) concerned Antoji. He had already spent a considerable amount of time to devise a technique to reduce his dependence on the municipal water supply.
Yet to no avail.
One fine day, while watering his garden, Antoji was lost in thoughts about securing the water supply at his home when the hose in his hand slipped. The water pressure was at full throttle, and the hose was quite heavy. And as soon as it hit the ground, the high water pressure drilled a 30 cm hole in the garden floor where the water started pooling.
This accident was Antoji’s eureka moment.
He conceptualised a water harvesting system that could store fresh rainwater several metres below sea level for future use.
This Rainwater Syringe Technique, eventually, would not only go on to help several resorts, hundreds of farmers and independent houses harvest and conserve water, but also garner the irk of the local government and draw students from IISC, Bengaluru to study the system.
“The accidental water syringe that I had created that day, some thirty years ago, wasn’t deep. It was just a few centimetres in the surface, but I started experimenting so that it could help me store water in the ground and ensure that it doesn’t become saline,” the 67-year-old tells The Better India (TBI).
In coastal cities like Kochi, the penetration of saline water into groundwater has been a cause for worry for the citizens and farmers alike. Around four years ago, in 2015, the chloride concentration in groundwater, in several parts of Kochi, had gone up to 1,000 mg per litre due to saline water seepage. The permissible limit of chloride in water that makes it potable is 250 mg/l.
With the level of groundwater steadily depleting, the high concentration of salinity was making it unfit to drink. This spelt doom for a State whose economy depends on agriculture and fisheries. Both the issues were adversely affecting poor farmers who could neither rely on wells for their year-round supply nor afford to purchase water needed for the fields.
The abundant rainfall that is characteristic of God’s Own Country was flowing back into the rivers and eventually in the seas without getting utilised by those who needed it the most.
Antoji’s innovation thus showed immense promise.
“Potable fresh water obtained by the rains, if stored well below the sea levels, can be used throughout the year. The Rainwater Syringe System that I developed uses the pressure of the temporarily collected water to seep into the storage tank about 6 metres below the land surface. No machine is required to let it seep into the ground. A motor pump is used only to procure this water,” the innovator explains.
The pit is fashioned according to the needs of the beneficiary. A family harvesting water will need a small-sized pit, whereas a farm will require a set of about ten deeper systems. However, the design of each pit is relatively the same.
How the Syringe System Works:
For an average-sized system, one needs to dig a six-metre pit into the ground and fill it with river sand for up to three metres.
This sand acts as a filter through which the water seeps and accumulates below the land surface.
Above this, lies the catchment area constructed with concrete. Water is not collected in a tank but below the ground.
A foot valve installed at the bottom of this pit is connected to a motor that draws water for use.
The system essentially aims at increasing the groundwater levels.
Our concrete or tar roads keep rainwater from percolating in the earth’s surface to swell the underground water table. Secondly, the lack of plants or trees leads to soil erosion. But Antoji utilised the very pressure that erodes the soil, harming the environment and ensured that the water seeps through.
The Rainwater Syringe System has its own method to direct the water deep below the earth’s surface. The fresh rainwater in the shallow tank can hold up to a 1,000 litres of water. When it fills up, the total pressure pushes the water below. This pressure is so powerful, it can make the water percolate to about 70 feet deep. A specially made motor pump is used to pull this water from that depth. The motor draws the water from below the earth’s surface to the overhead tank whenever you need to use it,” he further explains.
One of the beneficiaries of Antoji’s Syringe System is a resort in Andaman. The resort, severely hit by a shortage of potable water, had to close shop for three months. Andaman and Nicobar, much like Kerala, faces the same problem of the mixing of saline with fresh water.
The resort was an obvious victim.
Coming to its rescue, Antoji’s Syringe System is now helping the resort receive about 1,500 litres of water daily.
“We have installed a system of 10 units—each 10 feet deep—in a 5-acre agriculture land in Kerala,” he shares and adds that the farmer utilises the collected water to farm for the year. Rainwater syringes have proven their success over the last three decades, but they are the most efficient only at sea levels. So places like Kerala, Andaman and Gujarat benefit from them.”
Since its finalisation, Antoji’s invention has been installed in about 400 places, including private homes, farms and resorts. With a 90 per cent success rate, the Syringes have restored over 300 crore litres of water into Kerala’s ground.
Antoji’s journey was not without challenges as due to his limited knowledge about patents, he suffered at the hands of the local government, whose water supply he had cut out completely. The irony is that he had only wished to help them with his innovation. Undeterred by the legal and authoritative nuisance he had to face, Antoji still oversees the installation process, whether in Kerala, Andaman, Gujarat or anywhere else in the country.
If you wish to get his expertise on the system or get one installed, you can drop him a message by following the link here.
You can also call him at: 88938 63663
Picture Courtesy: KJ Antoji
(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)
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At 2,230 feet above sea level, there is little chance that you will come across an organic farm, let alone a thriving food forest.
Which is why the 5-acre patch of self-sustaining farmland, inside the densely forested village of Patteyakudi in the Idukki district of Kerala, comes as such a surprise.
Here, you will find all sorts of vegetables, native and wild fruits found only in the Western Ghats, medicinal plants and many varieties of spices, being grown without any difficulty.
And this is all thanks to one man’s enduring passion for organic farming and commitment to environmentally sustainable practices.
For the past forty years, PG George has been practising ‘Jaiva Idavila Samrakshana Krishi,’ a term that he coined, which can be best explained as an intermingling of organic farming with multi- cultivation as well as integrated farming practices.
For George, farming was never just a pursuit to feed his family or rake in profits, but more like a legacy handed down generation after generation in his community.
But none of these aspects or facets come close to showcasing the genius of the 67-year-old.
George’s lone efforts have led to the development of several black pepper varieties, one of which has even received accreditation from the National Innovation Foundation (NIF) as well as Kerala Agricultural University (KAU).
PG George.
Before we shed light on George’s success with black gold, there is a compelling tale involving struggle, hard work and undying optimism that has led the man to where he has today.
Let’s begin with that.
In conversation with The Better India, George shares how farming has been deeply embedded with the way of life for him and his people.
“I hail from a tribal community from Nedumavu near Pala. Our lives have traditionally revolved around farming and livestock rearing,” he says.
George had quit school at the age of 16, which meant that he did not have too many options, other than farming, to fend for himself.
However, as he was one among the eight children of a financially-strapped family meant that there wasn’t enough land for farming that could be distributed between all.
This would prove to be a major roadblock for George.
“My community was socially ostracised—we did not have the backing of any political party, and did not receive any support from the state. I was desperate to find some land and joined a movement where we tried to usurp several acres of land possessed by private tea estate holders from the British era, but ended up getting arrested. Although the state eventually ended up distributing land to many people, discriminated communities like ours were still ignored and given nothing,” recalls George.
Things would finally look up for George after he got married and moved to Patteyakudi, an Adivasi colony, where he would find people incredibly welcoming and open to selling their land.
There was, however, one major drawback—the land wasn’t cultivable.
“It is common knowledge that tea and rubber are grown in extremely high altitudes, and paddy and other crops thrive in flatlands. This land was in-between these two terrains. The same is true for its climate—it was neither too hot nor too cold here. Rubber, coconut and cashew nuts are amongst the crops that are widely grown across the state, but this land wasn’t fertile to even yield those. But I was relentless, and after much experimentation and research, I understood that the only crop that could be grown here, albeit sparingly, was black pepper,” says George.
He shares that while the initial few harvests were successful owing to the relatively unaffected topsoil, the subsequent ones were utter failures.
“During the time, severe thunderstorms and rains ended up wiping out almost all varieties of pepper crops across Idukki and Wayanad districts. Even in my farm, most varieties didn’t survive except for two native types, namely, thotta mundi and neeli mundi,” George explains.
It was from these two species that he would develop the Zion Mundi variety in the early 1990s, which upon being grafted to the Brazilian Thippali plant, would reap George, not just great harvests, but also national acclaim.
The famed Zion Mundi.
What made this variety a success was its high yielding capacity, high resistance to diseases, comparatively bigger berries and long and uniform sized spikes (15-20 cm).
In fact, Zion Mundi can easily give a yield of 7 kg (dry) from a single vine and 7,700 kg from a hectare.
Soon, this high-yielding black pepper variety began to gather awards and accolades, starting with the Krishi Vigyan Kendra in Kannur honouring him as the second best ‘farmer-scientist’ in the state.
Following this, he went on to develop four more varieties from heritage types of black pepper.
In addition to the development of new varieties, George had another mission—to conserve many heritage varieties of black pepper that were slowly fading away into obscurity.
He attributes this knowledge to his ancestral legacy of his community, who were experts with plants and herbs grown in the wild.
“It was through the efforts of conserving and growing these that later helped me develop better varieties through their strains,” he adds.
George’s extraordinary contributions didn’t go unnoticed. In 2015, during NIF’s 8th National Biennial Competition, he was presented with a National Award by the President of India for Zion Mundi. This variety is registered with Limca book of records for its better performance and certified by Lacon for its suitability in organic cultivation.
While black pepper might have made George a star in the Indian agrarian scene, his farmland isn’t just limited to the spice.
“In adherence to practising ‘Jaiva Idavila Samrakshana Krishi,’ I have cultivated hundreds of jackfruit trees here, that are used as a support for the black pepper vines. All these years, I have strictly followed farming practices that are beneficial in conserving the biodiversity of the region. The benefits are aplenty—you can preserve the soil as well as recharge the groundwater table,” he explains.
He adds that the reason why he chose jackfruit trees instead of commercial ones like teak or silver oak is that these are best for soil conservation while giving so many fruits.
Jackfruits galore.A rare fruit tree in George’s farm.
“In addition to that, I’ve also utilised medicinal trees like Ashokam and Kumbil to support the vines. Unlike most farmers in Kerala these days, my methods have steered clear of pesticides and chemicals, as I believe that when we protect the environment and the soil through organic farming practices, we strengthen their ability withstand devastating calamities like last year’s floods,” he adds.
He also mentions that although such a path can often be testing and long drawn, the end resulting can go on to earn you rich benefits and also a self-sustaining food forest system that can yield for years.
In his farm, George also rears livestock like goats, cows, rabbits, pigs and poultry including hens, ducks and other native birds; their excreta along with vegetable waste fulfils the compost and manure requirement of the entire farm.
There are also five ponds spread across the farm, where he raises a variety of local as well as ornamental fish. “The only thing that we still purchase from the market is paddy, as we can’t grow it here. Everything else is freshly harvested from our farm,” he says.
One can also find many wild fruits being nurtured across George’s farm that most urban folks wouldn’t have come across ever.
“Many of these are extremely medicinal and extremely good for health,” he says.
George mentions that his family, comprising his wife, Rachel, and five children, have been a part of this venture right from the start and have played as crucial a role in making the food forest what it is today.
As of the annual yield, George shares that they’re able to harvest close to five to six quintals of pepper.
Since the market for organic pepper is still quite nascent in Kerala, he adds that they don’t rake in bumper returns through sales at open markets but earn enough to feed his family and take good care of his farm and its beings.
On a parting note, we ask George if he has any message for the coming generation in regards to organic farming.
“Definitely. So many students from schools, colleges and agricultural universities visit us to learn environmentally sustainable farming methods. I believe that if the youth is given ample exposure to farming, right from their school days, it can play a significant role towards environment conservation. Besides, it is also good for the economy,” he concludes.
George’s farm is open to anyone who loves organic farming or would like to learn from him. You can call him at 8111915160.
Located along Kerala-Tamil Nadu Border, Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary has a unique landscape with an even more interesting ecosystem. Falling under the rain shadow region, it is home to a diverse mix of flora and fauna, which includes an extensive collection of medicinal plants as well as the Sanctuary’s flagship species like the grizzled giant squirrel (Ratufa macroura) and the tufted gray langur (Semnopithecus priam).
But in recent years, there has been a steady dip in the once healthy population of both terrestrial as well as arboreal species in the region, owing to roadkills from the vehicles speeding on the state highway that runs through the Sanctuary for a stretch of 15 km.
Concerned at the surge in roadkills, the Sanctuary management tried different interventions to help animals reside peacefully without being fatally affected by human intrusion.
But before that, the officials of Kerala Forest Research Institute (KFRI) conducted a roadkill survey in Chinnar to corroborate their claims in 2013.
“We had calculated the average number of vehicles passing through the Sanctuary per month and per day for five months, which was 26,816, and 894, respectively. The survey reported over 85 roadkills, which was so shocking as it included some of the rare and endangered species like rusty spotted cat, leopard cat, slender loris, Indian porcupine, Jerdon’s Nightjar and brown fish owl,” shares PM Prabhu, the Assistant Wildlife Warden at Chinnar.
To resolve this crisis, the Sanctuary authorities installed 15 speed breakers at relevant locations despite facing opposition from local taxi drivers and even local politicians. This move, however, did little to alleviate the problem faced by the arboreal animals.
“The newly constructed speed breakers were serving a great role to rein in roadkills, especially for nocturnal (active at night) species, by controlling the speed of the vehicles in the Sanctuary. However, the problem persisted for diurnal (active during the day) arboreal animals, especially along the Chinnar-Marayoormain road, where the activities of high arboreal animals naturally occurred,” he explains.
After much deliberation, the Chinnar’s eco-development committee (EDC), forest department officials and local members of Chinnar’s and Alampetty’s tribal colonies, came up with the innovative solution of ‘canopy bridges’ for arboreal animals in 2017.
A grizzled giant squirrel crossing through Canopy bridge at Chinnar. Courtesy: PM Prabhu.A tufted gray langur using Canopy bridge at Alampetty. Courtesy: PM Prabhu.
Prabhu explains how they constructed the bridges across 19 locations. “A systematic survey of the identification of locations and preparation of canopy bridge was carried out along the road to find out the exact location where the canopy bridge or rope overpass had to be erected. We found that many locations were frequently used by the arboreal animals to cross the road,” he explains.
Each species was observed separately, and the timing and frequency were also noted. Many exclusive locations catered to certain species and so the bridges were designed accordingly to accommodate the weight of the animals. In these areas, the team identified two trees on either side of the road to fix the canopy bride across the road at sufficient height.
Using high-quality nylon ropes as the external lining, the internal section was made using 1-1.5 m bamboo sticks tied with an iron twine.
Distribution of canopy bridges across Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary. Courtesy: PM Prabhu.Courtesy: PM Prabhu.
“At Alampetty, we used fine mesh over the path to make them safe and more animal-friendly. Both ends of these two parallel ropes were connected to the nearest trees on both sides of the road to form an overpass bridge. All such bridges were made and installed by the Tribal trekkers EDC members of Chinnar and Alampetty with passion for animals,” Prabhu shares.
During the observation period, the authorities noticed that many members of the Tufted-gray Langur and Bonnet Macaque species were playing and shaking the canopy bridge while crossing.
Hence, the canopy bridges were prepared strong enough to overcome this issue. Also, modifications were made following frequent inspections by Prabhu and others.
As for the impact, Prabhu shares that besides providing a leeway for the arboreal animals from crossing tarred roads, these bridges have significantly brought down the roadkill mortality of these beings.
Motivated EDC members making Canopy Bridges. Courtesy: PM Prabhu.Courtesy: PM Prabhu.
“The animals have also adapted quite well to the canopy bridges, whom we have observed using the bridge from day one. Bridging the fragmented canopy with the linear construction, these serve as a continuation of the natural tree canopy and have proved effective in conserving biodiversity, especially in areas with high wildlife movement,” he concludes.
Such issues are restricted to Chinnar but almost every natural reserves and wildlife sanctuaries across the country, where human intrusion through roadways have majorly affected the local wildlife. Solutions like canopy bridges, that can help India safeguard its wildlife effectively are not just economically feasible but are also easily implemented.
Here’s a video shot by Prabhu that showcases Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary and its vibrant pack of animals, birds and tribal communities at its best.
For over three decades, Padma Shri recipient Gopal Shankar has been at the forefront of sustainable architecture in not just India, but around the world.
Starting the Habitat Technology Group, the largest non-profit in the shelter sector in India committed to sustainable building solutions, cost-efficient, community-driven and eco-friendly architecture, Architect Shankar has been at the forefront of constructing nearly 1 million mass housing units (and over 100,000 green buildings) in more than five countries.
From constructing the first township built with green building technology in India, which contains 600 houses, a community centre and temple, in Sirumugai, Coimbatore in 1995 to the largest earth building in the world measuring over 600,000 square feet in Bangladesh in 2006, Architect Shankar has religiously taken on the cause of sustainable architecture with his blood, sweat and tears, battling hostile contractors, the establishment and naysayers.
More importantly, however, from his office in Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala, he has empowered those living on the margins to build quality homes with their meagre resources. Today, vegetable vendors and traditional fishermen in the city come to his office to design their homes. The masses of this country have an architect they can approach.
Born in present-day Tanzania (East Africa), Architect Shankar’s father was stationed as a civil servant for the British colonial administration. His mother, who came from a small village in Central Kerala, was a Swahili teacher.
However, just years after the country attained Independence under the leadership of Julius Nyerere, his parents were given the option of migrating to England. However, unlike a majority Indian origin residents at the time, his father chose to come back to India.
The family first moved to a small town in Central Kerala, before permanently moving to Thiruvananthapuram. Obtaining his basic degree in architecture from the College of Engineering, Kerala University, he went on to finish his Master’s degree in Housing from Birmingham School of Architecture, United Kingdom.
(Source: Facebook/Gopal Shankar)
Early struggles
“When my family came back to Kerala, I had two issues. One, I had a serious speech impediment, and would stammer while talking. I also felt a profound sense of loneliness because I didn’t understand Malayalam at the time. However, writing letters on the mud floor of our courtyard, I mastered the language in just one year, although speech did remain a concern,” says Architect G Shankar, in an exclusive conversation with The Better India (TBI).
A prodigy in school, he acquired a real interest in existential philosophy when he was just a 12-year-old. Reading the Malayalam translation of Albert Camus, Jean Paul Sartre, and other writers of the existentialist school, it had a profound effect on him.
“Even today, I abide by the dictum, ‘Life is that which decomposes at every moment; it is a monotonous loss of light, an insipid dissolution, without sceptres, without glories, without haloes.’ This has actually defined my journey. However, at that age, there was also a real zest for life. I was caught in this philosophical conflict very early. For a few months, I had even stopped studying and going to school despite topping various state-level school exams. Fortunately, my parents got wind of the situation and brought me back to school,” he recalls.
What brought him out of this quagmire was joining the Kerala Sasthra Sahithya Parishad, a voluntary organisation working towards spreading the benefits of science and rational thought to the people. He would visit the homes of uneducated people to teach them how to read and write. As a middle-school boy, he would go to the local market selling low-cost smokeless chulhas to the poor.
“Coming from a middle-class family, this experience was my first interface with the marginalised, deprived and the dispossessed. It was a defining experience. At the age of 12, I was already closer to people who didn’t have a meaningful tomorrow. As part of the literacy movement, I would visit the homes of traditional fishermen, eat and live with them and educate them after they came back from work,” recalls Architect Shankar.
At the age of 13, Shankar made the decision that whatever he did later in life should result in a meaningful intervention for people living on the margins. Something, which paved the way forward for Shankar towards architecture.
“It was through architecture that I could reach out to millions of people and hold hands with them. It was the better engineering discipline for me,” he adds.
Propelling this spirit forward at the time was legendary Lawrence Wilfred “Laurie” Baker, a British-born Indian architect and pioneer of sustainable architecture in India.
“I was fortunate to grow up watching and studying Laurie Baker’s buildings. Even at my age today, I continue to get inspired by his buildings, despite massive differences of opinion on architectural design. Having said that, he was on the right track. He was one person who understood India and brought Indianess into our structures with an emphasis on the local. We needed a man from England to disseminate Gandhian values to Indian architecture. I always consider him a mentor, despite never working with him,” he says.
For Architect Shankar, the design of any building must rest on some fundamental people-centred and value based parameters—eco sensitivity, cost efficiency, energy efficiency and disaster mitigant. This naturally translates into how he selects his material and equipment.
“My focus is on the local availability of any material. This is fundamental and the platform upon which you develop a sustainable design. Local materials and resources are critical components of sustainable development. With local material comes utilising local capacities to build the structure. Another key factor is eco-sensitivity. Any material that does not fit this mould is unacceptable. Finally, the material needs to be both energy and cost efficient as well. These are the basic factors I take into account. When I build in Kerala, for instance, I look at bamboo because it’s locally found and meets my strength requirements. It is a significant replacement for steel, matching its tensile strength,” he says.
Low-cost bamboo structure. (Source: Habitat Technology Group)Another material that Shankar often uses is lime. Kerala has one of the largest deposits of lime in the world, and it is a real replacement for cement, he says.
“See, cement and steel eat up a lot of energy during the production process. That is why we are trying to stay away from them. Instead, we are using earth building material, which is both cost effective and cools your home. My own office, which is a six-storeyed building, is completely made of earth. While people have a torrid time outside the office during summers, it is really cool inside,” adds Architect Shankar.
Before earth, it was exposed brickwork. However, more than 15 years ago, he realised that brick isn’t very eco-sensitive because making it requires burning a lot of wood. That’s when he turned to materials like earth. Although weaknesses exist, he has made upgrades to it.
When choosing a project to work on, the famed architect does look at the basic physical requirements like climate, environment, vistas, terrain, accessibility and connectivity, among other factors. However, what sets him apart is that he also ascertains other needs of the person he’s working for. Whether the person wants a place to read, meditate, listen to music, sing and a place to sit alone and look at the sky find their way into the design. That’s how questions of light and ventilation are addressed.
“I talk to them, and get a sense of who they are. My homes are not built in cement and mortar, but love, affection and compassion,” he says eloquently.
Take the example of G. Shankar’s mind altering house of mud at Mudavanmugal, a perfect example of architecture that is in sync with nature. Called ‘Siddhartha’, it is a uniquely shaped mud house crafted with a parabolic design idiom which has beautiful creepers and bamboo growing out of it.
Mudavanmugal (Source: Facebook/Gopal Shankar)
It took him 18 months to build it.
“When you build in mud and earth, it takes time because the structure is handcrafted. It’s a house that I built after 30 years of practice. I actually never wanted to build a house for myself, but my wife said ‘you’re getting old and you need to build your house’. The results have been very satisfying. I can feel the sheen and smoothness when I touch it,” he says.
Why Habitat Technology Group?
Architect Shankar grew up in a state, which had completely forgotten the legacy of vernacular architecture. With money flowing in through remittances from the Middle East, people were building what he calls ‘monstrosities’ that did not factor in their cultural heritage, local structural nuances and the environment.
“I believe in the goodness of indigenous architecture because they always belonged to the site and the people. Traditional architecture involves 1000 years of research and development. The legacy of residential architecture in Kerala is huge and it has developed some of the most profound styles. Looking at the physical, social and cultural climate, their concerns were so widespread and beautiful,” he says.
For him, these ‘monstrosities’ represented the proliferation of greed and power. After an uninspiring stint in Delhi, following university in the UK, he came to work for the Kerala government. However, he soon realised that they weren’t on the same page, and soon made a beeline for the voluntary sector.
“I wanted to build a people’s movement. The ordinary people of Kerala were looking for options beyond these ‘monstrosities’,” he says.
Starting out as a one-room one-person organisation in 1987, it was six-month wait before he was commissioned his first project, a small house for a bank clerk. However, the following years saw exponential growth. By 1990, he was doing 1,500 houses a year.
Today the non-profit has a core group of 400 architects, engineers and social workers with a support base of 35,000 trained workers and 34 regional offices spread all over India with project offices in Nigeria, Bangladesh and SriLanka, among others.
Habitat Latest Project: Vellinezhy Kalagramam. A small hamlet on the banks of Kunthipuzha in Palakkad, Vellinezhi is unique for the sheer number of art forms that thrive here. (Source: Habitat Technology Group)Disaster Rehabilitation
For over three decades, the Habitat Technology Group has worked with State agencies, other non-profits, corporations and local volunteers across multiple disaster-affected zones, helping people rebuild their homes abiding by his design principles.
From rehabilitating hundreds of families following the Bhopal Gas Tragedy to rebuilding homes following the Super Cyclone in Odisha in 1999 and Sri Lanka after the devastating Tsunami five years later, the Habitat Technology Group has done some remarkable work. In fact, with the aid of the German government in Sri Lanka, it rebuilt 95,000 homes, which is probably the largest rehabilitation project undertaken in the world.
However, following the devastating Kerala floods last year, the State government took the route of building prefabricated houses for those who had lost their homes. For Architect Shankar, this isn’t the right solution and believes a lot more can be done.
“They talked about prefab housing solutions for the poor. I said ‘no, we need to build people-centric homes’. The government of the day didn’t understand the language of sustainability. On my own, I’m tying up with multiple CSR initiatives, including Aster Homes, building up 1,000 homes for the homeless. In another two months, we are looking to build up another 500 homes. It’s almost been a year since the disaster, but we haven’t learnt from it. I’m a skeptic, but I also dare to dream for a sustainable future,” says Architect Shankar.
New homes for those who lost their own during the Kerala Floods last year. In collaboration with Aster Homes. (Source: Facebook/Gopal Shankar)
Besides, the group is also “in the forefront for building large hamlets and rehabilitation housing colonies for tribals, dalits and fishermen in Kerala, Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and Odisha”. With community participation as their mantra, it won the national award constituted by the Government of India for the slum upgradation works at Veli and Trivandrum as well.
“We, the architects, are primarily responsible for climate change. This is because we are primarily responsible for the built up environment. In the last 30 years, we have been talking about sustainability. Unfortunately, we are not learning and the world is losing options. Everything we build from now onwards has to be eco-sensitive, energy efficient, cost efficient, people centered and value based. Otherwise we will lose the game,” he concludes.
(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)
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KP Illias from Kerala and Shamika Mone from Maharashtra are perhaps the best example for the fact that a shared passion is the recipe for lifelong happiness.
Together, they have been silently driving an agrarian revolution in the country in recent years, and have not just guided seasoned farmers but also driven interest in youngsters to pursue organic farming.
But here’s the catch: they don’t have a single patch of land to their names!
Incredulous as it may sound, it was love for organic farming that brought Illias and Shamika together and eventually find love. But before we arrive at that, let’s course through their journeys of finding their passion.
Illias and Shamika.
Illias was one among seven kids born in a poor household in Cheruvannur town of Kozhikode district in Kerala. With a land holding of barely 5 cents, farming was out of the question, and Illias’s father had to work as a labourer to feed the family.
“Life hadn’t been all too kind to us when we were growing up. I’d also failed in my class 10 exams. The only thing I was slightly good at was drawing, and my mother helped me get a painting job in the neighbourhood. This mostly consisted of painting slogans and banners in the town. There used to be an aquarium shop-cum-nursery next door, whose owner, Joji, would always keep farming related books and weekly publications like ‘Ore Bhoomi Ore Jeevan’ at the store. That’s how I first came across organic farming, and I was very much interested,” says Illias to The Better India.
The interest soon changed to a calling. The turning point soon came in the form of his association with Kerala Jaiva Karshaka Samithi (KJKS), a non-government organisation that has been functioning as a forum for organic farmers in the state for the last two decades.
“That was 2002. From then on, I began to attend numerous events and workshops on organic farming and also found out many legends of organic farming from across the country. One thing that fascinated me was the eating habits of the people I met during this time and how they produced food without chemical fertilisers and pesticides,” shares Illias.
With serious issues like Endosulfan poisoning and pesticide exposure still fresh in the minds of the people in Kerala, Illias’ interest in organic farming peaked to new levels.
While he continued attending such events, it took another four to five years before Illias got to the ground, literally. He began organising eco-camps, where he met many youngsters inclined towards organic farming that encouraged him further.
A point came where he wanted to start farming on his own, but the fact that he owned not a cent of land was waiting to nip all his dreams right in the bud. However, the man was far from thwarted.
Why does farming have to be pursued on one’s land alone? If I didn’t have land to do so, at least I could work on the lands of others as farm help. That way I would get exposure and learn the basics, he says.
During this time, he volunteered with Thanal, an organisation championing the cause of environmental conservation and sustainability where he would come across many youngsters pursuing organic farming passionately.
Also, seeing his uninhibited passion for agriculture, many of Illias’s friends offered their land to him to work on.
As for active farming, things looked up for Illias in 2009, when he helped with paddy farming on an acre of land in Padayeti village under Palakkad panchayat. Some of the kids who had been part of his eco clubs helped him in the endeavour.
After this, another acre of unused land was handed over to Illias for paddy cultivation. One thing that Illias noticed as he learnt more was that while organic farming was the way to go, it was necessary to use native seeds to pursue it sustainably.
And he began collecting and preserving different indigenous and heritage seeds during his visits to different places.
Illias with his paddy crops.
Throughout these years, Illias played a crucial role in widening the network of KJKS and establishing district level bodies to bring on board more and more organic farmers. To those who were interested yet sceptical about the practical feasibility of switching to this side, Illias became a mentor and motivated them with examples of his work.
He also travelled to different meetings and conventions for organic farming around the country, and it was during one such event, in 2012, that he came across Shamika Mone for the first time.
Shamika hailed from a very different background. After pursuing graduation in industrial microbiology, followed by a postgraduate in biodiversity, Shamika decided to give all lucrative job opportunities a toss to work with the Organic Farming Association of India (OFAI), the country’s biggest network of organic farmers.
This led her to the coffee plantations of Coorg, where she worked closely with Dr Sujata Goel while documenting flora and fauna of the region.
Shamika at an international convention for organic farming.
“The turning point in her life came when she went to a region infamous for drought and farmer suicides, Vidarbha, during her PhD research. The suffering of the farmers affected her so much that she chose to quit her research to do something for the upliftment of the farmers,” shares Illias.
Shamika then undertook the journey of documenting the lives and struggles of the farmers in states like Odisha, Punjab, West Bengal and subsequently, Kerala. In the meantime, her association with OFAI took her to different events and her path crossed with Illias’ time and again.
“A common friend gave my number to her, and we connected instantly, perhaps because of our love for nature, organic farming and the betterment of farmers. Language or different states didn’t seem to be a barrier at all. I can’t say when love-struck exactly, but the decision to live and pursue farming together felt the right thing to both of us after a long friendship,” remembers Illias.
By then Shamika and her friends were already helping out Illias on the farm. Following a stint in Kasargod, a golden opportunity for Illias and Shamika came in the form of Salim Ali Foundation in 2017.
“The organisation had acquired about 16 acres of barren land in the village of Vellangallur in Thrissur district that they wanted to make cultivable and approached me for the same. Initially, it was quite difficult, but we kept on persisting. We used native paddy varieties like navara, nadan kuruva, rakthashali, thavala kannan and palthondi. A small patch has also been utilised to cultivate and grow vegetables. It has been quite a journey, but the ongoing success has made it all worthwhile,” Illias proudly.
In 2018, the duo flagged off another venture: an organic store in Irinjalakuda. They sell organic products from farmer groups hailing from Kerala, Maharashtra, Rajasthan, Karnataka and Tamil Nadu. But the exciting feature is that each product comes with details of farmers, like their name, village and contact. The idea is that people can directly contact the farmers for their produce.
Through their shop, the couple ensures that these farmers get a fair price for their produce like rice, lentils, mustard, cumin and different millet types.
In their store.
Today, Illias is one of the joint secretaries of KJKS, while Shamika is the Research Director of OFAI. As busy as their schedules get, they ensure that at least one of them is always around to look after their shop as well as the farm. Illias also holds the distinction of being the youngest President of OFAI.
A lot of credit for this achievement goes to years of llias’ efforts that have prompted many youngsters to enter the world of organic farming as well as expanding the network of farmers in not just Kerala but across the state.
“We still don’t own any land, but over the years I’ve realised that to set an example for people, one needs to practice what they preach. And I believe that if we are motivated enough, anything can be achieved,” Illias adds.
KJKS won the Organic Medal of Honour, conferred by the International Federation of Organic Agriculture Movement (IFOAM) Asia in South Korea, in association with Xichong Municipal corporation based in China in May this year.
KJKS receiving the Organic Medal of Honour.
“This organisation has played a rather landmark role in raising awareness of sustainable forms of agriculture and bringing everyone from farmers to nature lovers under a single platform. This growing network is enabling farmers through not just guidance but also seeds and equipment, which is endearing as we are seeing more and more youngsters voluntarily willing to pursue organic farming as a career choice,” he proudly states.
Content with the life choices the duo has made, Illias and Shamika are currently on the pursuit of engaging more farmers across the country in organic farming with the goal of not just improving their lives but also doing good for the environment through sustainable farming practices.
He was in Class 10 when his mother decided to finally walk out of an abusive marriage.
For years, he grew up watching his mother sacrifice and toil in the misery of an unhappy marriage. When she left the horror behind to start anew, her only thought was for her son.
But now, the boy, Gokul Sreedhar is all grown up. He wanted to break the pattern of his mother, always putting others before herself. “At least, now I want her to live her life, for herself,” shares Gokul, an engineer based in Kollam, Kerala.
And to do so, he took a big step of disregarding social taboos and fell whole-heartedly into making the arrangements for her marriage!
Sharing the experience in a recent Facebook post written in Malayalam that went viral, the Kerala boy says, “Amma is a kind of woman who always kept her life aside for others. Her marriage was a tragedy where she suffered a lot. Once, when I saw her with blood oozing out from her forehead after being assaulted, I had asked her why she was still enduring it. I remember what she told me then that she was living for me, and she was ready to endure more.”
The son’s emotional post recalling his mother’s struggle moved the internet to the core, with more than almost 4,600 shares and 43,000 likes, in less than a week.
Speaking to The Better India, Gokul says, “I was unsure and nervous about writing the post in the beginning. I knew that my friends and family would support, but I was doubtful about the people in my hometown as remarriage is still considered a taboo. But, I’m glad that I never gave in to it and did the right thing about sharing my mother’s story. Because, to my pleasant surprise, I was flooded with congratulations and positive remarks and not a single negative comment!”
He shared that once his parents were divorced in 2013 post a lengthy procedure, his mother began working as a librarian in Kollam.
“The day I left the house holding my mother’s hand, I promised myself that I would make this (remarriage) happen. She sacrificed her youth for me, but there’s so much more to life, and I am happy that she can now explore it. I did not want this to be a secret, so I shared,” he wrote in the post.
However, convincing her for a second marriage was not easy.
“I was always worried that after I get a job somewhere else, she would be alone,” said Gokul who is pursuing his passion now, with a BSc degree in English and Political Science from the Indira Gandhi National Open University.
His anxiety eventually led him to his mother’s colleague at the library, who suggested the match. After much thought, when he first approached her with the idea, she flatly rejected.
“Like anybody, this was also hard for her. But with the help of other family members, we were eventually able to convince her,” adds Gokul who recently arranged a low-key wedding of his mother, Mini Ayyappan with a retired army colonel, K Venu, who is a widower with a son and a daughter settled out of Kerala.
After the wedding, when he shared the post on social media, the response overwhelmed him.
“I never thought that this would garner so much attention and appreciation. There have been several people who shared their experiences and dreams of getting their single parents married as well,” he adds.
Having set a positive precedent, Gokul hopes that many such cases come to the fore so that the taboo around remarriage and second chances breaks down eventually. And we salute this endeavour!
About a decade ago, RD and Rohini Iyer, both agricultural scientists, retired from their respective jobs.
RD had built his career on botanical genetics, while Rohini, had worked on the integrated control of fungicide on ginger and coconut.
While the couple might have left their jobs, their passion to better the agricultural sector still burned bright.
After having worked in various parts of India, they decided to make the Thazhava village in Kollam, Kerala, their home and work for the welfare of farmers here.
Rohini had inherited a plot of land from her mother in this part of Kerala, and the duo built a small home on it. Their three daughters had already established their careers, and so, the couple could focus solely on their ‘second-innings.’
They established an NGO and christened it the NavaSakti Trust, to empower hundreds of farmers with innovative agricultural techniques and value-added initiatives that could earn them big profits.
84-year-old RD spoke to The Better India (TBI) about why their sole focus is on small farmers who toil endlessly to earn a marginal profit at the end of the agricultural cycle.
“The costs of cultivation have increased in the past few years, and so, it is the small farmers, who rely on their family members for labour and cannot afford to hire farm labourers, who suffer the most. We wanted to help them secure higher profits in their fields, so their succeeding generations keep up the legacy and continue farming, rather than moving abroad,” he said.
Agriculture constitutes 13 per cent of Kerala’s GDP, and rice plays a major part in this sector. Although the state grows about 600 varieties of rice, it experiences steady growth in the price of the staple.
This is not because its farmers are profiting from the hiked prices but because about 91 per cent of the rice in the state has to be imported from Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and Telangana. And while the game of imports and exports within states and from India to other countries keeps advancing, it is the ordinary farmer who suffers through it all.
Investing the entirety of his field to the variety of crop that gives him only a meagre profit, the farmer in Kerala gets more impoverished by the year.
The couple’s efforts are directed to change this trend in Thazhava whose population stands at a little over 23,000.
Rice was one among the several examples of crops that cannot incur substantial profits. But what they observed was that one farmer would focus all his efforts and resources on one crop itself. So, if the year was good for the particular crop, it would yield a marvellous profit. But if the markets were low, the farmer would suffer terrible losses.
“Our ideas were tried and tested,” Rohini begins. “That’s why we were confident in implementing them. One farm, however small, can be utilised to grow multiple crops. This way, the family farm can earn a steady income irrespective of the market values and clashes. Tapioca, coconuts, jackfruits are very popular in this part of the country, and they will never go out of demand. So, if a conventional farmer starts growing these trees in their farms, they could soon incur substantial profits,” she adds.
Through NavaSakti, the couple reached out to local farmers and began taking classes where they would explain the details of intercropping to them so that they could reap benefits.
This move proved to be highly beneficial. In certain instances, the income of some farmers grew by over 10 per cent.
Along with knowledge about intercropping, the Iyers also advertised another crop, which needs minimal resources to grow and is hugely beneficial.
In fact, this highly profitable fungus, the edible mushroom, needs very few resources to grow and is highly beneficial to the farmers’ family as a nutrition supplement.
Kerala cuisine features a lot of fish-based items. Blessed with endless miles of coastline, fresh fish is enjoyed in Kerala in many forms and flavours, and is a staple that accompanies every meal.
But, purchasing fish has become expensive. The rising prices are not only taking away a staple food item, but also a popular source of protein from a Malayali’s plate.
“Mushrooms can compensate in this regard,” says Rohini. “Oyster and milky mushrooms are inexpensive to grow and are nutritious. We started classes for mushroom cultivation on a national level. Those farmers who wish to scale the production commercially are free to do so, but our main aim was to secure the protein intake of the farming family.”
She adds that Kerala is blessed with very fertile soil, and the farmers need to make the most of this resource. This has to be done in a way that is beneficial not just in monetary terms but also on a personal level. Diet is one aspect of this.
If the farmer is not well fed, is it fair that he is responsible to feed the country?
Another gap in the market chewing away at the farmer’s potential income is the fact that they sell raw material at low rates, but final products are sold in the market at high prices.
Take the example of coconut. Once it is harvested, the farmer sells it either in the market or to companies who make say, oil from it. There’s a vast difference in the market price of the ready product and that of the coconut.
While the farmers already make value-added products from raw materials for their personal use—oil from coconut, for example—the Iyers, through the NavaSakti Trust are trying to encourage farmers to increase the production and sell the products in the market.
Over the past 12 years, since the organisation was founded, the Iyers have led about 80 courses in agricultural development in Thazhava. Mushroom cultivation, production of value-added products and methods of intercropping are some examples of their courses.
Each course has about 20-25 “student” farmers from various parts of Kollam. And although their team strength is just four—the couple and two more women who are working with NavaSakti—they have managed to help about 1600 farmers optimise their produce and techniques.
“We need to show the younger generation that agriculture is profitable. That is the only way of keeping them from going abroad for jobs. Farming is a noble occupation, but it comes with a huge set of investments, risks and unpredictability. We are just trying to show them that if innovative techniques are used, farming can be as stable and profitable as any other occupation,” says RD.
If you wish to reach out to the Iyers for further details, send them an email on navasakti@gmail.com.
(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)
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One doesn’t have to be a scientist to comprehend the detrimental effects of plastic on the planet.
According to estimates, at this point, there is so much of it being dumped into our water systems every single day that there will be more plastic in oceans and seas than fish by 2025.
When KV Priyesh, a fisherman living by the Chombala Harbour in Kozhikode district of Kerala, came across this information on Facebook, he was rather disturbed.
“The sea is my home. How would you feel if everyone is trashing your home and there is so much garbage that you can’t breathe? That is perhaps how the creatures in the ocean feel,” says the 30-year-old to The Better India.
“While most people think that the waste can be found largely along the shores, the reality is that one can find it in the deeper parts of the ocean as well. It’s not just tourists or passengers cruising on ferries; even fishermen are guilty of throwing plastic bottles that they carry with them to the sea,” he adds.
Priyesh shares that he is not very educated. He had to leave school after class 10, owing to financial difficulties at home.
But even so, he has always been aware of the harmful effects of plastic waste.
Priyesh.
However, the true extent of the damage became apparent to him when he started finding plastic waste much deeper in the sea. And after that Facebook post, he made up his mind to collect any trash that he would come across while fishing.
“For doing so, people have made fun of me to the extent of even labelling me mad,” he adds.
Though the ridicule and public apathy affect him at times, Priyesh is relentless. For he feels that, even if one person is inspired by what he does and partakes in the same in their area, it would perhaps lead to a chain reaction.
Priyesh’s anti-plastic crusade stretched for over a month in 2019, but he soon realised that the scale of plastic waste was much more than what a single person could handle.
So, he decided to approach the Azhiyoor grama panchayat for help.
“They appreciated the work that I’d done and decided to launch an anti-plastic mission in the ward and include me in all the major discussions. In normal circumstances, I’d have to dedicate an entire hour to find plastic waste in between my fishing hours. Under this initiative, we decided to split the collection drive in a phased manner, under which three-four hours would be dedicated exclusively,” he adds.
But before that the GP officials went around the town, raising awareness on plastic and its detrimental effects on the environment.
The households were told about waste segregation and particularly warned against burning plastic waste, a practice rather common across the state.
“The people were told that if anyone is reported or caught doing so, they would be heavily penalised. The panchayat now also own a plastic shredding unit and have employed a group named Haritha Karma Sena that collects plastic waste from door to door. I’ve also been sending all the plastic waste that I’ve collected so far, to them,” he adds.
T Shahul Hameed, the panchayat secretary, shares more information about the first phase of the cleaning operation.
“The event was inaugurated by panchayat president, Reena Rayaroth. The workforce that was led by Priyesh included panchayat members, local health inspectors, youth coordinators, Haritha Karma Sena workers and ASHA workers. But the most interesting aspect was that many people from Russia, Romania, the Netherlands and even Australia, who had come to seek ayurvedic treatment joined us in our crusade. While a 5 km stretch of the coastline was scouted for plastic waste, Priyesh foraged for plastic about 2 km into the sea,” he says.
In total, this team has managed to collect about 13.5 tonnes of plastic waste as well as ten loads of liquor bottles from both the shoreline as well as the sea.
“If a fishing net can catch about 50 kg of fish, there is roughly about 13 kg of plastic in the same load. That is the amount of plastic waste floating about in the sea,” adds Hameed.
At present, Priyesh has put a halt on his fishing activities, and the anti-plastic crusade. He has been personally inducted by the Kozhikode District Magistrate in the rescue team deployed during the trawling ban that commences during the monsoon in Kerala.
Besides his constant efforts to prevent plastic penetration into the sea, Priyesh has also been involved in humanitarian work during natural disasters like the Ockhi cyclone in 2017, and the Kerala floods last year.
After receiving details from the Coast Guard, he set out in his boat and helped in recovering dead bodies floating along the coastline, when no one else was willing to go or even claim the deceased.
Also, he was one of the fishermen, who had helped rescue and rehabilitate stranded people in Chalakudy during the devastating floods that ravaged the state last year.
Priyesh states that though he doesn’t know how long would the trawling duty last, he plans on getting back to his anti-plastic work as soon as the ban period commences.
He also thanks the Azhiyoor panchayat officials for their receptive attitude and support to his mission.
“I’m proud of our panchayat, as it is rather progressive and willing to work on environment-centric ideas proposed by common people like me. This anti-plastic crusade is just one among the many interventions that the body has initiated,” he adds.
On a closing note, Priyesh adds that as he never got the opportunity to study further, he still has the desire to study.
“This will not be an academic pursuit; I only want to study so that I become more aware of the environment and different crises plaguing it. I want to become more aware and informed in my fight for the environment,” he concludes.
It is silent crusaders like KV Priyesh who are the true heroes of the environment, often neglected and sidelined by society.
We at The Better India, thank not just this fisherman from a little town from the coasts of Kerala, but also the functionaries Azhiyoor panchayat and Haritha Karma Sena, for their invaluable contribution towards the planet.
Thiruvananthapuram-based Latha Nair was working with the state fisheries department when she came to know about Binu Devasia, a young boy, through a friend in 2000.
Hailing from a financially downtrodden family from Wayanad, Binu had Osteogenesis imperfecta (OI), better known as brittle bone disease, and needed an operation to separate his intertwined legs.
“Until then, I had no idea about the disease, and neither had I come across any child with this condition. But his plight moved me so much that I wanted to do something for him,” recalls Latha in an interview with The Better India.
So, she decided to find more and began speaking to her friends and doctors, and even looked up information about OI, online.
That’s when she came to know how rare a medical condition this was, and while there were many OI support societies functioning around the world, there were none in India.
The situation was such that even though Binu’s family, with great difficulty, had found a doctor to treat him, there was no way they could afford the treatment.
Even contributions made by Latha or her circle of friends and acquaintances wouldn’t suffice.
So, Latha hit upon a plan. Just the way she had found more about OI on the Internet, she decided to post an online advertisement, and reach out to people to raise funds.
This initiative managed to raise enough funds for Binu’s operation successfully, and also brought Latha a friend for life: Dhanya Ravi.
Afflicted with OI herself, the Bengaluru-based girl from Kerala joined hands with Latha to tread down upon a rare path that sought to improve the quality of life for people with OI.
“As I started meeting more and more people with his condition, I realised that most of them hailed from extremely impoverished backgrounds, and had limited knowledge of the rare disease. They also lacked any form of confidence or belief in themselves. I believed that to help any one of them, it had to start with awareness, support and most importantly, education,” she adds.
Latha also shares that because there was so little awareness about brittle bone diseases, parents would often be overprotective of their kids and bar them from any form of strenuous activities, including schooling.
Latha with Dhanya.
Conversely, there are also situations when these children are ignored and given less attention and care than their siblings.
“Imagine a life where you watch everyone, including your doing things that you wouldn’t dare to do, with ease. I’ve met kids who wished to study in a school, travel like everyone else and in one particular case, a child just wanted to visit his father’s shop. It is quite heartbreaking and demoralising, and I wanted to change that. I believe that it was god gifted destiny that walked me down through this road,” she says.
With that started Latha’s journey of helping out children and adults with OI through financial aid as well as education and job opportunities.
Together with Dhanya, Latha began expanding her network of not just people with OI but also parents, caregivers, doctors as well as anyone who’d like to volunteer or offer support to these individuals.
This group was christened as Amrithavarshini.
“As most kids were from financially strained homes, in 2009 we decided to set aside a small amount of money from all the funding and financial assistance that we were receiving from across the world to give them a monthly allowance. Although the amount was small, what I’d envisioned through this step was that this would not just give them some financial independence but also a feeling of self-worth. When we started, it was just a small amount of Rs 200, which we have now increased to Rs 500,” Latha shares.
More than financial aid, what Latha envisioned to provide these kids was a life where they didn’t feel like a burden to their families or incapable of being an active component of the society.
“I made it a point to speak to the parents who ignored their OI-affected child and instead, showered affection on their other, more ‘able’ kids. I told them that with proper care and attention, these kids would also be able to lead regular lives, so something as essential as education should not be snatched away from them. They mustn’t be prevented from attempting exams, because for you and I, it might be just another event, but for these children, it is a validation of their lifetime efforts,” she explains.
The same year, Amrithavarshini got registered as a formal and charitable organisation working towards the welfare and support of people with OI.
Functioning only through the support of donors and well-wishers, the organisation has slowly yet steadily grown. Many of the kids who have been associated with Amrithavarshini from the beginning and were able to chase their dreams, now assist Latha or ‘Lathamma’ as she is lovingly known to help others.
She gives a special mention to Latheesha Ansari, a UPSC aspirant with OI. Incidentally, TBI had covered her journey in a story earlier this month.
Latha with Latheesha.
“She is a wonderful child, who went through a lot, but her courage and conviction never wavered. Right before her prelims last year, she developed a chest infection, and no doctor was willing to treat her. Though depressed, she didn’t let her spirits go down and went ahead with confidence to nail it. The confidence she radiates inspires us all,” the sexagenarian proudly adds.
With the beneficiaries spread across the country, Amrithavarshini organises a yearly get together so that everyone can meet each other.
Sadly, Latha was unable to organise one the previous year as she didn’t have enough funds to do so. In fact, she failed to pay last month’s allowance of Rs 500 to all of the 85 children Amrithavarshini currently focuses on, as she had used up all the funds for Latheesha’s medical needs.
“However, the kids are quite understanding. Many of them now take tutions and can earn money. Then there are the ones who come from slightly better off households who can manage without the allowance. Fortunately, the donations came midway this month, and I was able to send the money to all of them. Our organisation is entirely dependent on donations from our friends and well-wishers and has never received any form of support from the government,” Latha shares.
She also shares with us that many of the regional media persons, who had covered the stories of her children went on to donate to Amrithavarshini for their welfare.
“When I’d started initially, my friends spread the word amongst their circle. Somewhere along the way, the media picked up, and that worked a lot in our favour. I want to mention my sincere gratitude to all these platforms; through their extensive coverage time, and again, we were able to find more donors and supporters to champion our cause,” she happily adds.
Regarding their monetary credibility, she shares that right from the start, Amrithavarshini has maintained a public bank account; and anyone can access its details and transactions.
As all the transactions were for charity, Latha was later able to apply for tax deductions under Section 80G of the Income Tax Act.
“As I was a government employee, I knew all the legal ways to start anything. I was adamant that our organisation would function transparently and I only accept donations as money orders or bank transactions to ensure a clean money trail,” Latha says.
Besides all the aid and support that Amrithavarshini has provided all these kids with, Latha mentions that she has taught them skills such as sewing and candle making, intending to make them self-sustained.
As the severity of the disease ranges from person to person, some of them are bedridden and can’t partake in the same.
“In such scenarios, I’ve included the parents in the sessions, as they can utilise these skills to bring some income. There are also times when someone makes a sizeable donation, so I distribute the money to the families of these needy kids so that they can start something like a poultry farm or livestock rearing,” she says.
Currently, Latha is working on a new project.
“Mobility remains a major issue for all these kids; somebody has to always carry them to move from one place to another. Besides Kerala, our children are spread across the country, including states like UP and Telangana, and it is not possible for us to get all the children together. But I want all of them to be trained in any one of the skills and earn for themselves. What I envision is a video conferencing system that these kids can access through phones, irrespective of where they are,” she shares hopefully.
She also hopes to build a residential space in a small plot of land someday in the future, where these kids can live and be looked after by employed caretakers, in case their parents are financially unable to do so.
One big family of Amrithavarshini.
“I’m also getting old!” she concludes with a laugh.
Since her retirement in 2014, Latha has devoted all of her time and efforts for Amrithavarshini and plans to continue doing so for as long as she can.
She is positive that someday brittle bone disease as a serious medical condition would garner more awareness in India than being broadly categorised under general physical disabilities.
For more information on Amrithavarshini, click here. If you wish to provide monetary
support to these children, please find the bank account details of the organisation below:
Come October, and the men in the Kuttikol family of Kasargod, Kerala, will be ready for the Theyyam season. The Kuttikols, of the Vannan community perform a ceremonial dance, characteristic of the Northern Kerala regions. With their flamboyant costumes, heavy make-up and a unique style of choreography, Theyyam season tells the stories of brave heroes, their bold quests, and the spirits of their long past ancestors. This festival brings to life the cultural significance of the lesser-known heroes of the past and invokes the energy that few traditions can.
But for Vivek, the son of a Theyyam performer, its aftermath was reduced to a tragedy.
Theyyam requires the performers to be in a certain trance to perform dangerous activities like running on burning coal; and for the 3-4 months of the season, male performers take the support of “holy” alcohol. Shielding the performers from the physical pain and the exhausting hours of work, this Toddy becomes a numbing medicine in these trying months.
But long after the season is over and the curtains fall, the addiction refuses to fade. Vivek, growing up in Kasargod, saw the repercussions of this addiction up close.
A performer gets ready for his Theyyam ritual. Theyyam, in the Vannan community, means God.
In a conversation with The Better India, he says, “Boys and men in the Vannan community are employed during the Theyyam months. Traditionally, the women go house-to-house and wash clothes for money to support the family. They are washerwomen who bring in money throughout the year, whereas the men keep the custom of the dance alive. Owing to the demanding nature of the performances, I have seen the men in my family get addicted to alcohol. My paternal uncle passed away from alcoholism at a very young age, and my father, too, had taken to the bottle irreversibly. It was a pitiful state, growing up.”
For most of his life, Vivek blamed his father for resorting to liquor and not contributing to the family’s well-being. But a brief study in sociology put things in better perspective. It wasn’t his dad alone who was at fault but the nature of the community. This realisation of a bigger picture in play for his father’s addiction pushed him to pursue the civil services.
Behind this man was a strong woman
(L) Vivek and (R) his mother.
Vivek’s father belonged to a small village in Malabar whereas his mother came from a relatively bigger town, with better education and work prospects. When she saw that her husband had entered a one-way street to alcoholism, she decided that the best choice for her kids—then in school—would be for her to live in her maiden home in Kannur.
Taking a job as a clerk in a post office, Vivek’s mother travelled about 25 km one way. By her side was a young Vivek, who was enrolled at the St Michael Anglo’s School nearby.
“We took two buses and a train, travelling for about 90 minutes one way. By the time I returned home, I was exhausted,” he shares.
He adds, “But I was the elder child, and my mother’s shift would end at 6 pm, long after I had reached home. So, I would take up household chores like getting water from the well or washing dishes. By the time amma reached home, all the household tasks would have been completed, and she could rest peacefully.”
As the day ended, so did Vivek’s energy levels. He would have no strength to complete his studies. But as soon as he realised that he was falling behind in class which had predominantly middle-class students living close to school, he thought of a better idea to manage time.
“My school deserves credit for this. They gave me a quality education for a nominal fee. Most of my classmates came from much better financial backgrounds, and the teachers were very well-spoken and highly informed. Together, they made me strive for excellence in the English language. When I was short of time, I decided that my daily commute could be utilised for studying. From reading to writing, I did everything on the buses rides to and from school. Even today, I can write very well while sitting in a car,” he says.
Reading English books and watching Hollywood movies helped him master the language while Hindi serials, which Vivek’s mother enjoyed after a tiring day, helped him practice Hindi. Throughout his school and college, one thing was clear for Vivek—he did not want to live in a bubble—either of his culture, his language or financial background. Instead, he tried to step outside his comfort zone every chance he got.
The days were trying, and Vivek struggled on the personal front too. His parents, who were just separated, got divorced by the time he was 14. His father’s ever-increasing debts had to be repaid by his mother. As long as the couple was legally married, this problem wouldn’t have gone away and so, his mother, decided to end the marriage officially.
“For a woman who comes from a rural background, who isn’t highly educated, taking this step is nothing short of courageous. She knew she would be outcast—even her friends stopped speaking with her. But she was independent and never let anyone bring her down,” Vivek tells us. “That is something I hope I have inherited.”
From an IT worker to cracking the UPSC
K V Vivek.
Years passed, and Vivek completed his electronic communication degree. Since medical and engineering weren’t options for him, he decided to take up this course. His ultimate aim was to pursue IIM, but yet again, finance was an issue. So he took up a job in an IT company in Chennai and worked till he saved enough to pursue a management course from IIM-Kolkata.
Here, his life took an unexpected turn.
Sociology was a subject where he learned how social elements play a role in a person’s thinking, education and profession. Through this course, one epiphany hit home. His father was not to be blamed as an alcoholic. Rather, the social circumstances played a role in his habits.
“I had always blamed my father for getting addicted to alcohol, even as he saw his brother die from it. But now, I could understand where he came from. And that inspired me to take up a job in the public sector—where my story, my origin mattered. At a job granted by the IIM, I would have been one of the many equals. But that would dissolve my story. When I shared this thought with a friend, Prateek Rao, he told me about his father’s job an IAS officer, who could bring about change that hardly anyone else could,” says the 30-year-old.
But every ambition takes time to achieve. After getting his IIM degree, Vivek still had to work to get his finances in place. He got a job in Gurugram with Prateek and started earning a steady income. Habituated to handle multiple responsibilities, he enrolled for UPSC coaching classes.
“My weekends were dedicated to studying and the weekdays to my job. For two years, I left no stone unturned in preparing for the exams. I appeared for the exams twice, to get a sense of how they work. They were much more difficult than I had presumed. There was no way I could work a job and secure a rank at the same time. It was a hard lesson for me. In July 2017, I quit my job to dive into the UPSC preparation wholeheartedly. Fifteen days before my exam, I got a call. My father had passed away,” he shares.
The journey which had begun indirectly due to his father seemed like a meaningless pursuit. But only for a while.
Vivek soon realised that he had come too far to stop. If he couldn’t save his father from alcoholism, he could at least work for others like him, even children growing up in the shadows of alcoholic, depressed and lonely adults.
“Quality primary education is the only way to achieve that,” he believes, and with that passion burning inside him, he gave the UPSC exams again, this time, cracking them.
“My mother always says that the reservation I got as a scheduled caste member is social insurance. It does not allow me to work less hard than anyone else. Today, I have cracked the UPSC exams and give all the credit to my strongest support pillar, my mother, and my father, whose condition was my inspiration. If I can do something for someone like me, an alcohol addict like my father, or a single mother in rural Kerala, I will consider myself successful,” he signs off.
(Edited by Shruti Singhal)
Images Courtesy: K V Vivek.
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The wilderness surrounding the Archal village in Kerala’s Kollam district hides a pristine secret— the Erappu Falls.
Its name, which translates to ‘noise’ in Malayalam, was given to it as the rush and roar of the waterfall manages to drown every other sound in the vicinity.
Erappu is one of those rare waterfalls that has never dried up, even in the summer. Standing tall atop the waterfall is an ancient banyan tree, whose aerial roots seem to appear like billowing locks of hair amidst the misty sprays of the falls.
Officially known as the Archal Oliyaruku Erappu Waterfalls, the stream of origin of this water body flows through the Shendurney-Kulathupuzha forest range, before cascading over steep rocky slopes and leaving behind a deafening roar.
Its beauty, however, was no match for the mystery, myths and ghost stories that surrounded it, and these kept generations of people living in and around the village from venturing towards it.
Perhaps in the olden days, the lack of electricity along with fear of wild animals in the surrounding forest must have scared people to approach this site.
Rumours about the region being haunted and teeming with evil spirits began circulating, and before long, Erappu became infamous with its share of spooky stories and notorious tales.
One of the stories recounted by elders of the village is that of a cowherd named Kattibrayi, who had taken his animals for grazing near Errapu and ended up finding a mysterious cave. Curiosity got the better of him, and he went inside to inspect—but never returned.
There were many others like him, and soon, the villagers began to believe that the spirits of these cowherds haunted Erappu.
And then there were those who utilised rumours to their advantage and made the location a haunt for their dubious activities. The fear of running into such shady characters at the cost of their own lives further prevented people from heading here.
Eventually, the waterfalls also ended up becoming out of bounds for the women, and nobody questioned or challenged the restriction; not even the women.
But all of these myths, rumours and restrictions finally found an end on June 5, 2019. The villagers broke free from their prejudices and assumptions and conducted a green drive to save Erappu and its surrounding biodiversity, truly commemorating World Environment Day.
One of the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) registered programmes in Kerala for the day, the drive witnessed large scale planting of trees, cleaning of the nearby catchment area and forested stretch as well as a collection of about 15 sacks of plastic waste.
Over 300 women were part of this drive, and for them, seeing the waterfall for the very first time was nothing short of a revelation.
Women of Archal visiting Erappu for the very first time.
“Our Erappu was this beautiful?!” said Shantha, one of the residents of Archal, as she looked up to admire its breathtaking beauty.
So what exactly had transpired that led these villagers to let go of these myths and become guardians of a waterfall and neighbouring forested tracts?
Speaking with The Better India is 25-year-old Vishal Udayakumar, one of the residents of Archal.
“Even though the story of Kattibrayi is still told in our village, there is no such cave in existence!” he begins.
He further explains the lives of people living in Archal, have always been intertwined with Erappu.
“My ancestors, who were mostly farmers, were among the very first to settle here. The entire region was densely forested, and the low-lying areas were converted into paddy farms. Back then, the existing system was that feudal lords from Kollam would come and take away all the harvest. The water from Erappu was the lifeline that not only fuelled the agrarian activities but also all of our lives,” he says.
Because Erappu was such an intrinsic part of their lives, the waterfalls and the forested stretch was given a kaav or sacred grove like reverence.
But at some point, stories and myths surrounding Erappu started taking root until they became a part of their lives.
Vishal also recalls how his grandmother would narrate stories of spirits in the forest and how dangerous it was to step out past twilight.
“Back then, it used to get very dark here, and the stories told by elders definitely had a role in furthering the general fear. Following a few deaths, this dread intensified to the extent that people, especially women, started avoiding the waterfalls altogether,” he remembers.
But as times changed, a trickle of men slowly started frequenting the place. This then led to people visiting their relatives in Archal being shown their local tourist spot. However, they would be shown the falls from far.
Word slowly started spreading, and more people started flocking to Erappu, projecting a very promising scope for a tourism boom in the sleepy little village.
Shortly after that, the District Tourism Promotion Council included Archal in their tourist map.
“Even then, the women stayed away from Erappu. Perhaps it was because of these stories and myths,” Vishal says.
But on June 5, a rather large congregation including hundreds of women, men and kids set out for Erappu. All of them took a pledge that they will look after the waterfall and the forest surrounding it.
This declaration was signed by these folks on a white cloth, as a testimony to the fact that Archal and its villagers had opened their minds. They wanted to step towards the path of conversation, and women like Shantha finally got to see up close the natural gem that had always been right next to them.
“All of us went ahead and planted hundreds of saplings including medicinal ones along the 2 km road stretch between Gurumandiram junction to Archal Oliyaruku Erappu. These were supplied by Sanjeevani Social Forestry, under the Kulathupuzha forest department for free,” says Vishal, who was one of the coordinators of the green drive.
Even though the plastic usage is minimal in this village, the villagers found how dumping of plastic waste and liquor bottles in the stream over the years eventually led to its accumulation near the falls.
One of the goals for the drive was to collect all of these and dispose of these through appropriate channels. They were able to fish out about 15 sacks of plastic waste that was then sent to a recycling unit. To stop littering haphazardly, they’ve now installed waste bins across the region.
Apart from the village folk, there were women workers under Kudumbasree and the NREGA scheme, as well as volunteers from the nearby Shahul Hameed Memorial Granthasala (library) and Naveena arts and sports club, who came forward and joined hands with the gram panchayat to support the cause.
There were also other reasons that led the people of Archal to spearhead this initiative. They were worried that the tourism boom in Erappu would put its pristine beauty at stake. Also, certain parties have been conducting illegal activities such as quarrying and deforestation around the waterfall, in recent years.
“Because the area is relatively lesser known and not under any surveillance, people with rubber plantations slowly started encroaching and farming over patches of land, where good and fertile soil often accumulated after a good rainfall. Also, many anti-social elements were trying to turn Erappu into a drinking haunt. We have been witnessing a steady fall in the water flow and are unable to use the water like in the olden days. Erappu has been part of our lives since birth. When we knew exactly what was being done to destroy Erappu and the surrounding environment, we just couldn’t sit and do nothing,” concludes Vishal, who is an alumnus of TISS.
While the initiative harbours on environment conservation, Vishal believes community awareness and participation is vital for the movement’s impact before the tourism boom hits Erappu and changes it forever.
Archal’s participation towards environment conservation was registered as one UNEP’s programmes in Kerala for World Environment Day, which was successfully carried forth through community participation and willingness of a group of people to let go of their archaic beliefs and practices.
If a village as small as Archal can come together to protect the environment, imagine how far India can go towards championing the cause if we all do our part.
All photo courtesy: Archal Oliyaruk Erappu Athijeevana Samithi.
“I began fishing as a child. Watching the waters move calmly and sitting by the shores for hours waiting for the catch has been since been the most settling chore. Fishing is a lot like life and our quest for opportunities. You have to be patient and attentive, to catch the right one at the right moment!” observes the 32-year-old.
And this philosophy has finally led Unni to a life of fame after several tumultuous years. An Internet sensation now, Unni’s YouTube channel, ‘OMKV Fishing & Cooking’ has a total of 179,221 subscribers, making him one of the most popular vloggers in the country.
For the name of the channel, he appropriated the well-known Malayalam slang expression, OMKV, a modified acronym for ‘Oodu Meene Kandam Vazhi,’ which translates to ‘tell the fish to run across the backwater.’
His unusual choice of expression on camera has garnered appreciation all across the country and beyond.
But things weren’t always this good.
Battling with surgery
Back in 2016, Unni was working as a construction worker, when all of a sudden, life began to fall apart for him and his family.
While on the job, one day, he fell sick with acute pain in his stomach and was eventually diagnosed with kidney failure. “My wife was three months pregnant at the time, and both my kidneys had given up. We were barely managing to make ends meet and then this news completely shattered us. It was like the sky was falling on my head, and I didn’t know what to do,” he shares.
Desperate, they began to reach out to friends and family for help. While help poured in from some people, his surgery alone needed Rs 15 lakhs, so his friends pushed his case on social media asking for more funds.
Eventually, help arrived, and his surgery was successful. But, two weeks later, his wife went into labour, pushing him to take a loan of Rs 3 lakhs to pay for her surgery.
Drowning in debt, monthly medical expenses and restricted by post-surgery recovery, their lives came to a standstill.
“Together we were spending almost Rs 20,000 a month just for medicines. This is more than we were earning. Also, because of the surgery, I had to tone down my work at the construction site. I couldn’t even pick up anything above 5 kgs. Friends and family advised me to change jobs, but as i had not finished my studies, opportunities had become slim,” he says.
“Every day was a battle. I remember sitting by the water and staring at nothing thinking what to do next,” he adds.
After much contemplation, it seems the backwaters came to his rescue. Almost two years later, he went back to his childhood love, fishing and made it his profession, but with a twist.
“I was introduced by a few friends to the concept of YouTube. I began to research and found out that it was full of videos of food, travel, fishing, etc. but not a combination of food and fishing, the two things I was very good at. Also, my research revealed that vlogging was an emerging profession among the youth, and I thought of dabbling in it,” he adds.
After months of research and YouTube tutorials on vlogging, Unni was finally ready, and with the help of a friend’s DSLR camera, he recorded and uploaded his first video in May 2018, where he caught and cooked his own fish from the backwaters.
His videos involve him travelling across the coastal regions of Kochi to catch the best fish and cook in the local style caught the attention due to its unique style.
A touch of simplicity while presenting in the videos won lakhs of hearts in Kerala and beyond, making him an internet sensation.
“After I hit 25,000 followers, I began to get calls from YouTube congratulating me on my success and pushing me to do better. Today I earn more than Rs 50,000 every month and also have several sponsors helping me make my videos better,” he says.
No need for sympathy
“I want people to know me for what I am today, not what I was,” he exclaims, pointing out that many of his followers did not know about his difficult past and his incredible journey.
Elaborating on that, he adds that the intent of this channel was to introduce people to the simple way of cooking in the local style along with the art of fishing. It was a place of passion, where he wanted people to come with appreciation, not sympathy.
“In the initial days, many friends told me to make a video about my difficult past, as that would garner more followers. But, I did not want their sympathy subscriptions. So, only after I hit 1 lakh subscriptions and got my silver play button, did I record a video about my life’s journey and share it with everyone,” he adds.
Living his dream today with family, Unni still finds it hard to believe how his life has turned out to be.
“A lot of people were sceptical and advised me to give up making videos as it was a waste of time. But I stuck to it as it made me happy. Now, because of this, I have paid all the debts due to my treatment, worth lakhs!” concludes Unni, who makes sure that he and his family do not forget the hard times by helping anyone in need, just the way they were once helped.
Sooraj CS remembers how his mother would pick tomatoes and chillies from their kitchen garden, wash off the soil and use them to make delicious curry. As a child, he took up small tasks to help her in the garden, and observing how she dug the ground, sowed seeds, tended to the plants and plucked the vegetables when the time came.
This home-garden inspired Sooraj, a BSc Agriculture student to take up organic farming and also help other farmers in Kerala give up chemicals used in agricultural practices.
“When I was in class eight, I planted some tomatoes and cowpea in our kitchen garden. I grew up watching my mother work in the garden and so, the techniques of cultivating it came naturally to me.
These first seeds that I had sown gave a wonderful yield and that really inspired me to continue,” he tells The Better India (TBI).
Organic tomatoes grown in Sooraj’s farm.
Soon, he turned this tiny kitchen garden into a venture campaigning for organic farming. Taking his knowledge beyond the observations he had made as a child, Sooraj, in his final year at the College of Horticulture, Kerala Agricultural University, researched various methods of farming. He also undertook training under Subash Palekar’s Zero Budget Natural Farming (ZBNF).
ZBNF is a technique of farming that requires no production cost. Relying on natural resources such as land and water available in a particular area, ZBNF technique helps grow organic crops.
By the age of 17, Sooraj had already studied the climatic and topographic conditions of his hometown in Wayanad, Kerala. In the past four years, he went from growing tomato and cowpea plants to organic bananas, beans, bitter gourds, cabbages, carrots, capsicum, eggplants, green chillies, potatoes, tomatoes and yams!
No wonder he was awarded with the Karshaka Jyothi Award for the best student farmer in Kerala. The award is a state government initiative to promote agriculture among young people.
Sooraj shares insights on his farming methods.
Speaking to TBI Sooraj says, “I started with ZBNF and updated my methods according to the climatic conditions here. I experimented with the use of modern technology in traditional farming so the yield is healthier and better. When some seeds were observed to be flourishing more than others, I started breeding and conserving them. Today, I grow over 50 types of vegetables and fruits in my 5.5-acre land and also help other farmers in my neighbourhood cultivate chemical-free crops through my methods.”
Sooraj formed “Project Earthworm”, a farmer’s group where he got together with organic farmers like him to conserve over 100 varieties of rice, tubers and other crops while also marketing the need to shift from chemical farming. “Many people think that using fertilisers is an easy solution to get a good yield. In fact, they’re conditioned to believe so. But that isn’t true. We have a lot of eco-friendly alternatives,” he tells Edex Live, further adding, “Plants mainly need micronutrients to grow.
Plants also need potassium and phosphorus, but these can be absorbed only in a soluble form. To facilitate this, we can introduce microorganisms to the soil, instead of using chemical fertilisers.”
He explains that there is a need to uplift the social status of farmers. With that aim in mind, he started giving technical training to organic farmers. Exchanging know-how and conserving various species of seeds, the farming community began working together.
“I used to give classes to farmers and school children, teaching them the advantages and methods of organic farming. In agriculture, the two best motivations are to show a successful farm and to help farmers sell their produce. That is exactly what we are trying to do here in the farmers’ group,” the 22-year-old says.
One of the major concerns of agricultural experts is that the younger generation perceives farming as an unprofitable occupation which demands months of hard work and investment with no guaranteed returns. Young farmers like Sooraj, who are developing their own techniques and promoting the much-sought-after organic produce can prove to be the leaders who show that farming can be a profitable and promising occupation, one that should be embraced if you have the will to do it.
Picture Courtesy: Sooraj CS
(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)
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Till the age of 17, Abdul Nasar B grew up in an orphanage and in the twelve years that he lived there, he ran away from the place twice, only to return out of concern for his mother.
Today, 32 years later, Nasar has assumed the office of the District Collector of Kollam, Kerala.
His fascinating journey from a shelter home in Thalassery, Kerala, to becoming an IAS officer is an inspiration to those facing grave challenges in their lives.
Nasar was just five years old when his father passed away, leaving his mother to feed six children. Manhumma, unlettered herself, wanted her children to study well to get good jobs. To achieve this, she worked odd jobs in Thalassery to support the family. For a widowed mother looking after six children while balancing work was certainly not an easy task and on the insistence of well-wishing relatives, she decided to send her youngest, Abdul, to a local orphanage.
“My parents worked tremendously hard to provide us with a good life. As a child, I did not really struggle as much as my mother did.
Abdul Nasar B.
I was just five when I was admitted in the Thalassery orphanage and did not know a life of struggle from an easy one. My elder brother and four sisters stayed with amma, helping her in sustaining the family. My sisters worked as beedi (a cheap cigarette) worker with amma while my brother did labour work. As a family, it was decided that I must focus on my studies,” Nasar recalls in conversation with The Better India (TBI).
It was a confusing time for Nasar who was too young to understand this estrangement. But, he tried to adjust to his new environment, and made the most of his day classes. The orphanage had in-house primary and high school classes, and so, Manhumma was granted her wish of seeing her son getting an education. Five years later, an IAS officer visited the shelter and inspired Nasar in a way that no one else had before.
“The IAS officer was the smartest person I’d ever met then. He walked with unflinching confidence and a slight gesture by him was enough instruction for those around him to understand what he wanted. To a child of just 10 years, this grace was beyond anything I could ever imagine. At that moment, I decided to become an IAS officer someday,” he shares.
Amitabh Kant was only two years into civil services when he visited the Thalassery orphanage and inspired the then 10-year-old Nasar to follow in his footsteps.
Nasar with his family.
A 1980-batch IAS, who is currently the CEO of NITI Aayog, Kant, in his long-standing career as a civil servant, has led several tourism campaigns like “Incredible India” and “God’s Own Country”- a description of Kerala that remains popular till date. He also conceptualised a campaign that made every field in the tourism industry a stakeholder in grooming India’s tourism image internationally. From immigration officers to taxi drivers, Kant made everyone an equal participant in boosting the country as a favoured tourist spot. This campaign, with its wildly popular tagline, “Atithi Devo Bhava”, is familiar to all.
However, in the years to come, as the young Nasar became more interested in earning money, the dream to become an IAS officer faltered many times. “I would sneak out from the orphanage and travel some 30-40 kilometres to Kannur. Here getting jobs in hotels and restaurants was easy for a young boy like me. I would work for a couple of days and when something went wrong, like the restaurant owner scolding me for no reason, I took my wages and left for the orphanage. At that time, I wasn’t keen on completing my education but my family was adamant. I knew this came from their love for me and I obliged.”
Working part-time as an STD booth operator, newspaper distributor and a delivery boy, Nasar saved money to buy books needed for his BA and MA degrees in English literature.
Nasar, Manhumma and Nasar’s kids pose for a photo. Courtesy: Abdul Nasar B.
After completing his education, in 1995, he got a job as a Junior Health Inspector with the Kerala Health Department. This was also the year when Nasar got married to Ruksana, a woman who pushed him further to pursue the civil services.
“Amma was the first woman who encouraged me to keep studying even as my determination faltered and Ruksana was the second. She kept insisting that I should be a Collector and pushed me to do better than I was doing. That year, the Kerala State Civil Service Executive had invited applications for the post of a Deputy Collector. There were going to be thousands, if not lakhs of applications and although I had studied, I was sure that I wouldn’t be selected. God had other plans though and I got through!” the 49-year-old recalls.
The training, probation and his appointment at a junior time scale position took about 10 years to complete and Nasar was appointed as the Deputy Collector in 2006.
Eleven years later, in October 2017, he was elevated to the position of an IAS officer, as the rules dictate. With this appointment, Manhumma’s years of labour had finally borne fruit. She had always wanted to see her children secure respectable jobs but sadly when Nasar became an IAS officer, she was not alive to see the blessed day. Manhumma had passed away in 2014.
“My mother was the most loving woman and it is her struggle and determination that has brought me to this point. Today, as I assume this prestigious position, my family is super proud of my achievements but it is them to whom the credit goes. Without their encouragement and insistence, I would never be an IAS officer,” says Nasar.
Just last month, Nasar was appointed the collector of the coastal district of Kollam. He takes this position with much pride even as he wishes that his late mother could see how far her youngest, the little boy who lived in the orphanage, had come.
(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)
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An ideal house in the village should be built using material that is found within a five-mile radius of the house.”
This belief of Mahatma Gandhi left a lasting impression on young Laurie Baker. The British-born Indian architect was a pioneer in constructing sustainable homes using mud and other local resources.
Baker, who is fondly referred to as ‘Gandhi of Architecture’, went on to inspire architects to opt for green materials in the Pre and Post Independence era. It is no wonder that India has 65 million mud houses of the total 118 million, as per Down To Earth magazine.
As India opened its doors to the outside world, the construction industry flourished, accommodating other modern construction materials like cement, glass and marble. Houses in urban areas underwent horizontal and vertical expansion as traditional methods replaced the machine-intensive one. People’s definition of a house changed, as it turned into an asset with a long-term investment.
Spending large amounts of money for a mud house was not an appealing prospect anymore, causing a rise in the demand for modern construction materials. Mud houses soon came to be associated with rural areas and economic backwardness.
Eugene Pandala
The rise-fall-rise in the importance given to mud houses across the country continues as environmentally-conscious citizens gradually chose cost-effective and energy-saving eco-friendly building materials for their dream houses.
We no longer have to persuade people, and the benefits of the traditional houses are self-explanatory, says renowned architect Eugene Pandala, in a conversation with The Better India.
He tells me about a mud house he constructed for an IAS officer in Kerala. It was only after the unique house called ‘Bodhi’ was published in several publications, that people started noticing the significance of an eco-friendly abode.
Bodhi house
From exotic resorts, film academies, hospitals, to heritage sites like Pazhassi Raja Memorial, Pandala has been constructing eco-friendly structures across India since 1996. Popularising the country’s rich tradition of mud houses, the award-winning architect can effortlessly incorporate any local resources like straw, bamboo, timber, steel, in his designs.
Born and raised on the Malabar coast, in Kerala’s Kollam, Pandala’s fascination for sustainable homes dates back to his childhood.
I grew up in the lap of sea, surrounded by lakes, mountains, vast green fields, and backwaters, with lime-plastered walls in my mud house. My dad was an artist and he would often clay in stock. So I would use clay to make miniature houses. Naturally, I wanted to be close to nature for life, says the 65-year-old.
His wish took a concrete shape after he chose architecture as his field of study. He completed Masters from the School of Planning and Architecture, New Delhi, and then went to do a fellowship at UK’s Heritage Conservation at the University of York and the Fort Brockhurst English Heritage Training Centre.
Pandala also credits his love for mud to eminent Egyptian architect, Hassan Fathy, who wrote the book Architecture for the Poor: An Experiment in Rural Egypt. The techniques of construction in this book inspired him and introduced him to the concept of having a roof over your head without disturbing nature.
On A Green Spree
Studying the biodiversity of the site is the first and most crucial part of Pandala’s process.
There should be a minimal intervention in nature from our side. Our policy is to build the house without disturbing the trees and water bodies. The direction of the wind and natural light are studied to reduce the use of ACs, fans and heaters in the house.
He uses the oldest construction cob technique. Cob is an amalgamation of soil, clay and straw, blended with water.
Pandala uses more than 20 per cent clay to make the house stronger. The blend can be made by machines or manually with a digger.
Besides the cob method, he also uses the rammed earth technique to construct foundations, floors, and walls, where natural raw materials such as earth, chalk, lime, or grave are rammed together.
Since the rammed earth and cob walls are constructed on-site, manufacture and transport costs are eliminated, leading to reduced carbon footprints.
The thick walls of the cob house also provide thermal regulation, meaning that they are cool during summer and absorb heat in winter.
Revathy Kala Mandir Film Academy
As the walls are made of the earth, they are recyclable and pollution-free. And they can last for thousands of years if the roofs are built to protect the walls from the rains! “”When constructing the roof, we extend it beyond the house by two feet on either side. By doing this, we make sure that rainwater does not touch the structure.”
Are mud houses less durable than conventional houses? Do they require more maintenance? Pandala answers, “While it is true that mud houses may cause some problems during rains, these issues can be addressed during the construction. Stabilisers like wheat husk, straw, lime, and cow dung can be used to prevent any damage.”
As for the cost, if 1 sq ft in a conventional house would cost Rs 1,000, while the same area in an eco-friendly one will be priced at Rs 600, Pandala points out.
For all his work, Eugene Pandala has received several prestigious awards, including the Laurie Baker Award from Lalith Kala Academy. What started as a mere fascination for mud structures has now turned into a conscious mission to reduce carbon footprints from residential construction.
For instance, Tendu Leaf Jungle Resort in Madhya Pradesh was constructed from waste materials. Discarded timber and steel were recycled and reused to make the beautiful cottages of the resort that, according to the architect, are ‘affordable sustainable buildings’.
Tendu Leaf Jungle Resort in Madhya Pradesh
Building eco-friendly houses is not a want anymore, it is a need. Around 40 per cent of the greenhouse gases are released by construction activities, considering the huge volumes of energy required to build and sustain the houses. Lifestyle modification is needed to prevent water crises and floods, he says.
‘If you protect the nation, the nation will protect you’, is the philosophy that P K Hormis Tharakan has lived his life by.
Tharakan, a former Chief of Research and Analysis Wing (R&AW) has played many roles in his life. An Indian Police Service officer, Director of the Vigilance and Anti-Corruption Bureau, Chief Advisor of Strategic Affairs and a guest lecturer for International Relations, and through it all, his mantra for life stayed true.
The same motto is now helping Tharakan in his quest to reconnect with his native village Olavaip in Kerala’s Alappuzha district by adopting aquaculture farming and working with the locals.
P K Hormis Tharakan
Back in those days, the harvest was nothing short of a festival where everyone would come together and help each other. After so many years I am getting an opportunity to be a part of the celebrations again, smiles the retired R&AW Chief.
After having served two years as R&AW chief, Tharakan retired in 2007 and took charge as Chief Advisor to Karnataka Governor in Bengaluru. Here, he continued his love for geopolitical relations as a visiting professor at Manipal University, Udupi.
The avid reader ultimately decided to exchange the chaotic city life for a quieter one and shifted to in his village Olavaip with his wife, Molly, with plans to read more books and write.
However, the death of a brother and the need to continue his father’s legacy compelled Tharakan to take up farming.
I hail from an agrarian family, and my father, Kochupappu Tharakan, used to cultivate paddy and coconut on his five-acre farm. After he passed away, there was no one to take care of the farm. At 23, I joined the Indian Police Services, and gradually, my eight brothers also moved out of the village in search of better opportunities.
Later, his younger brother, an international banker, returned to the village a couple of years ago to revive the farming practices. “Just when he started the revival process, he died in 2014. In a way, he inspired me to continue the process, and so I tried my hand at farming.”
Fortunately for him, farming was not an alien concept. All he had to do was polish his rusty knowledge of cultivation. “As a kid, I used to help my father in sowing, ploughing and watering, and now I had only to revise those methods.”
Tharakan monitoring the fish pond
With excitement, commitment and dedication as his motivators, the 74-year-old began re-learning the farming process. He reached out to experts, the local administration and farmers to acquire the right know-how.
While the experts enhanced my technical knowledge, the local administration introduced me to several government schemes that I could use for cost-effective farming. The best inputs came from the villagers as they understand the local weather, land and soil conditions better than anyone, shares the 1968 batch Kerala-cadre IPS officer.
It was the then Deputy Director of the Aquaculture Development Agency (ADA) of Kerala who encouraged Tharakan to use the ‘One Paddy, One Fish’ scheme. Started by the Kerala government, the schemed aimed at promoting shrimp and paddy cultivation.
For Tharakan, the learning has been a “by trial and error” process, and with aid from government agencies. The ADA extended a one-time subsidy to Tharakan in return for his commitment toward paddy cultivation for at least five years. The Marine Products Exports Development Authority came forward to supply tiger-shrimp seeds.
Traditionally, paddy cultivation is done during monsoons and then harvested four months later. For the rest of the year, the low-lying paddy field is kept fallow. Post rains, the prawns naturally come to the fields from the sea, and thus the government pushes the farmer to take up rotational cropping, explains Tharakan.
As per the scheme, this type of farming is a sustainable system that reduces the use of pesticides and fertilisers. However, Tharakan chose to ditch chemical fertilisers altogether as they corrupt the produce and opted for their organic counterparts.
Tharakan with his wife by the fish pond
Tharakan’s primary interest is to revive paddy cultivation on his farm. “The government is providing capital relief and seeds for paddy cultivation under the scheme that is funded by the National Adaptation Fund for Climate Change (NABARD). This is a great initiative taken by the government to engage the youth in farming, who otherwise prefer city jobs. I urge people across India to identify similar schemes and start farming,” he says.
When asked about the revenue he is generating from the paddy and shrimp cultivation, Tharakan says, “I refuse to calculate profits as for me the employment generated is the biggest trophy.”
Tharakan has hired three youngsters from Assam who carry out most of the work, but the IPS Officer-turned-farmer visits the farm twice a day and supervises the farming activities. He also recruits 25 local women during the harvest season every year.
Ajit and Niranjan (left) and Bijoy (right) work at Tharakan’s field
Despite his age and insistence from his workers, he cannot stay away from his aquaculture farm, contributing in the daily activities like keeping the pests away, feeding the shrimp and checking the pH value of the water.
Though it has been three years since the ex-IPS officer began farming, he admits that there is still a lot of learning to do to achieve tangible results.
In the first year, just when the shrimp cultivation was ready to harvest, a virus attacked the fields and destroyed the fish overnight. While it was heartbreaking, it was a learning experience for us. The natural fertiliser we used was not strong enough to kill the insects. So the next time we used another organic fertiliser that produced satisfactory results, explains Tharakan.
The first paddy yield was of five tonnes of Pokkali rice, a variety which is saline-resistant and suitable for cultivation in the brackish water. In the second year, the Kerala floods delayed the process, and all the crops were lost to heavy rains.
This year, the farm harvested nearly 1,000 kilos of fish. As for paddy cultivation, the sowing process was started a couple of days ago, and Tharakan is hopeful that the production will not be disappointing this time.
Apart from making an environmental and social impact, farming is also helping Tharakan to reconnect with his village and fellow villagers, something that he always craved to do.
Farming has truly been a rewarding exercise in more ways than one. Agriculture feeds millions, and it is time I contribute in my own way. I will never stop serving my nation.
-Signs off the man who chose to work through his retirement years collaborating with farmers, learning their way of life and finding it more rewarding than a swanky lifestyle in a metropolis.
In 2018, India was the fourth largest manufacturer of cars in the world and the number of passenger cars sold in the country stood at 2.17 million for the same year. It is always a time to celebrate when a new car or bike comes to the house, but sadly, amidst the happiness we tend to gloss over the fact that the vehicle is one more nail in earth’s coffin.
Vehicular emissions contribute significantly to the deteriorating air quality world-wide. Closer home, we have all read about the toxic air that people breathe in the country’s capital. In fact, a study by the Indian Institute of Technology-Kanpur on Delhi’s air pollution stated that vehicles are the second largest source of pollution in the city.
When Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman said, “India is aiming to become a global hub of manufacturing electric vehicles (EV),” during the 2019-20 Budget presentation on 5 July, it became a beacon of light for environmentalists and nature-lovers across the country.
Furthermore, in a welcome gesture to encourage citizens to switch to eco-friendly vehicles, the government recently reduced GST on EVs to 5 per cent from 12 and announced an additional income tax exemption of Rs 1.5 lakh for buyers of EV.
Where the government is advocating electric mobility, even citizens are not far behind in not only making the switch but also inventing pollution-free vehicles including two and four-wheelers.
Joining the latest and much-needed push for environment-friendly cars and bikes is Smado Labs, a private limited company started by Midhun Sankar, Ashin AI and Jishnu P in Kochi, Kerala. The startup is based in Maker Village, India’s largest electronic incubator centre.
Founders of Smado Labs
The trio always had a dream to create an environment-friendly product and during their brainstorming sessions, the word ‘e-bike’ popped up several times.
Once they had the idea in their head, the co-founders started to build an e-bike unique to the market. After three years of rigorous hardwork and multiple failures, the friends finally developed a one-of-its kind electronic bike this year in July.
The bike is foldable, easy to carry and can be taken anywhere from a metro station, car to an apartment.
Speaking to The Better India (TBI), Jishnu, Mechatronics Engineer and Chief Technical Officer of Smado says:
For most of us, cycling is one of the fondest memories of our childhood. As we grow up we switch to faster modes of commuting. While it does save time, it has severe environmental impacts that we do not realise. We wanted to build a cycle that can be used by all age groups, is faster and most importantly does not cause air pollution. The trend of cycling needs to come back.
Electric cars and motorcycles require services from time to time and they come along with infrastructures like charging stations and provisions to manufacture the vehicles and batteries. The bike we have developed does not require any service or charging stations. Once the bike runs out of battery it can be charged at home, says Midhun, a Software Engineer and CEO of the company.
Christened as ‘Tezlaa’, the startup offers two models – Alpha-1 (Rs 49,500) and Alpha-1 Pro (Rs 69,500) and both can be charged in two hours. At one time charge, the former covers a distance of 50 kilometres and the latter covers 100 kilometres. The portable batteries of the e-bike are made of aluminium and alloy frame and can be removed from the bike for charging purposes. The aluminium allows the bike to ride even in rains.
The best part about the e-bike is that it is designed in a way that can be used by all genders and age groups as the seat is adjustable and the bike can be used in three forms:
The pedal riding works like a normal cycle and does not require battery
In the assist riding, the user has to pedal a little and for the rest, the cycle will assist
Electric riding works like a motorcycle.
The startup sold more than 50 e-bikes two weeks into the launch and currently, the trio is getting hundreds of calls everyday for orders. Such news makes one believe that people are becoming more environmentally-aware. It would require conscious efforts from us all to make lifestyle changes that would help our planet breathe.
Check out these 5 startups manufacturing e-bikes here.
It was the fear of losing the pictures and videos of her precious garden that made Annie Yujin start a Youtube channel. Her need for cataloguing the growth of the 1-acre home garden in Kerala and sharing its progress with a larger audience further made her commit to the channel.
A native of Edakkunnu in Angamaly, the Economics graduate created her first YouTube account—Krishi Lokam in 2012. It was not long before Annie became a celebrity YouTube content creator.
With over three lakh subscribers and over two crore views, Annie now earns a lakh a month from the channel! While conversing with Annie, her passion for gardening and her channel was palpable.
If you have always been keen on gardening but were not sure of where and how to begin, you could look at buying these eco-friendly grow bags. Click here to buy them.
“I am very passionate about gardening and that is why I started showcasing my own home garden to people. It was all easy in the beginning since it did not involve me speaking into the camera, but slowly I started doing that as well, and it helped me emerge from being a very shy person to someone who felt reasonably confident of facing a camera,” she tells me.
Currently residing in Cochin, Annie started uploading videos regularly on Youtube from 2015 bolstered by encouraging comments from the viewers. Annie says that with each new video she makes, she feels the same kind of excitement and happiness she did when she started.
Her first video on her channel was about the benefits of guava and the video titled ‘Guava in Kerala Home’ got her about 8,500 views and eight comments. I then looked up her most recent video titled ‘Peanut Butter fruit’, which, within a day of being posted, has 7,500 garnered views and 31 comments.
Looking back, Annie says, “If you look at the first few videos, they are all very amateurish, I did not have any idea about any technique. Over the years all that has changed and with the help of my husband Stephan, I am able to make much better content now.”
Annie at her home garden
So what does Annie grow in her one-acre garden? She says, “We have various kinds of fruit trees – sapota (chikku), mango, guava, peanut butter fruit, passion fruit, various kinds of jackfruits, litchi, banana. We also grow vegetables like bitter gourd, snake gourd, tomato, cucumber, brinjal, and carrots (seasonal). Besides all this we also grow aloe vera and nutmeg.”
So far Annie has not thought of turning any of this into a commercial venture and does it only as a pet project but the videos of her garden that she painstakingly creates has many admirers on Youtube which earns a lakh a month.
“Now that my subscriber base has increased, with each click and advertisement that is placed on the videos I earn money. There are some months in which I make Rs 1 lakh and sometimes a little more, it all depends on the traffic and the likeability of the videos I make. I have noticed that Decembers are usually good and the traffic increases at that time.”
To understand the kind of content Annie puts up on her channel, I spent some time watching videos. The one on how to select a rose plant from a nursery was particularly interesting.
In the video, she says that before buying a rose plant it is essential that we find out what type of rose plant it is, what the size of the flowers will be, and whether the flowers have any smell. She goes on to talk about the health of the plant and urges us to spend sometime at the nursery before buying the plant. She also shares tips on how to check if the soil is good for plant growth.
In another video posted almost a year ago, Annie explains to her viewers how one can make organic pesticides at home. Many of her videos also show her interact with local farmers trying to understand the best practises they follow. Annie’s well of patience is very clear in the way she attends to the minutest of details in her videos and her replies to the queries in the comments section on her YouTube channel.
Annie with her husband Stephan
Spurred by the response this channel received, she also started another channel called Tips For Happy Life.
If you would like to watch and learn from her videos, you can click here to subscribe.
Dr Mary Poonen Lukose was a trailblazer in every sense of the word.
She was the first female Malayali graduate, headed the Health Department in the Princely State of Travancore (which made her the de-facto Health Minister), served as India’s first woman legislator when she was nominated to the state legislative council and eventually became the first woman Surgeon General of Travancore; and was in fact, the first woman to be appointed Surgeon General anywhere in the world.
Awarded the title of Vaidyasasthrakusala from the last Maharaja of Travancore Chithira Thirunal Balarama Varma, she was also presented with the Padma Shri in 1975.
However, Dr Lukose’s life was so much more than these legendary accomplishments.
Born on August 2, 1886, in Aymanam village, she was an extremely bright student who topped her matriculation exam but was denied admission into the sciences at the Maharajas College, Thiruvananthapuram (affiliated to Madras University, and called the University College today) because of her gender.
Instead, she had to pursue a BA degree, but this also wasn’t without its obstacles. She was the only female student in college, and in 1909 became the first woman graduate out of the illustrious Madras University.
To pursue medicine, she left India and made her way to London, where she earned her MBBS from London University and thus becoming the first woman from Kerala to graduate in medicine.
“She then opted for postgraduate study in obstetrics and gynaecology at the famous Rotunda Hospital in Dublin and trained in paediatrics at the Children’s Hospital, Great Ormond Street, London,” says this biographical description.
Her time spent in the United Kingdom was critical in the way she would rise through the ranks once she came to India, following her father’s death in 1915.
Her training as a midwife was a baptism of fire, working outside the slums of Dublin, Ireland, in absolutely horrific conditions. More than anything else, however, she developed a real strength of character living all by herself during her time abroad.
When she came back to India in 1916, she found a progressive regime under Mulam Thirunal Rama Varma, the ruling Maharaja of Travancore, that was favourable to qualified women.
She successfully conducted present-day Kerala’s first C-Section procedure in 1920. However, her career really took off when Maharani Sethu Lakshmi Bayi came to power in 1924. She was promoted to head the medical department and nominated to the state’s legislative council called the Sree Chitra State Council.
As head of the medical department, she undertook many revolutionary steps, including the establishment of training classes for local midwives.
Just three years after the Maharani took over, the services of these trained midwives were heavily sought in the rural belts. In only three years, around 10% of all births in the state were being handled by qualified personnel instead of rudimentary deliveries at home.
According to historian Manu S Pillai, “By 1929, 1.6 million of the five million subjects of Travancore had access to modern medicine.” Under her leadership, the region made rapid strides in the delivery of public healthcare, which would inspire future generations of medical practitioners around India.
Appointed Surgeon General of Travancore in 1938, she oversaw the operations of 32 government hospitals, 50 dispensaries and 20 private institutions, states Wikipedia.
During her remarkable tenure, she also founded one of India’s first sanatoriums—the Tuberculosis Sanatorium in Nagercoil, which would one day develop into the Kanyakumari Government Medical College. She also famously founded the X-Ray and Radium Institute in Thiruvananthapuram.
In her personal life, she also made unorthodox choices, marrying a man younger than her who would one day become a judge.
She outlived her husband and two children—Gracie, a doctor at Lady Hardinge Medical College, New Delhi, and son KP Lukose, a permanent representative of India to the United Nations. Despite suffering these personal losses, she lived the rest of her life in quiet dignity until her eventually passing on October 2, 1976, at the ripe old age of 90.
This remarkable woman was a pioneer, institution builder, and showed a way for women to succeed at a time when it didn’t seem possible. Her story of overcoming stereotypes and hurdles is one that needs to be told.
(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)
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Valayanchirangara LP, a 104-year-old government primary school in Ernakulam district of Kerala is quite unique, besides the reason it is in the news these days.
An all-woman team of teachers and staff run the school. And now, the school has broken a stereotype by introducing gender-neutral uniform comprising of short pants and shirts.
The girls in this school wore a skirt and a top as a uniform. Over the years, we noticed that the uniform came in the way of the girls participating in sports and even slowed them down at times. We decided to try and change that. It was a difficult task and it took us a while to convince everyone about this change, informs the school’s headmistress C Raji.
Elated with their new uniform.
Once the recommendation was made to the executive committee, it took them many deliberations to finally implement the new uniform. The school ran a trial run by introducing the uniform in kindergarten and nursery last year. This academic year, the unisex uniform i.e. knee length shorts and shirt has been extended to the girls of all classes i.e. kindergarten till 4.
Not just the school board, we also had to consider how the parents would react. Surprisingly, they have been very welcoming of this change and that has eased the process for us, says Raji.
Headmistress C Raji
The school’s decision seems to be welcomed by the parents considering the school saw 40 new admissions in the current session despite several private CBSE schools in the area, as Raji informs.
When asked how the girls have been reacting to this change, she smiles, “They were most excited about the pockets in their new shorts.”
Well, who better to understand the girl’s plight than an ex-student of the school!
“I take great pride in the fact that I am a product of this school. Many of the staff and teachers here are the ones I grew up with. We know every nook and corner of this school and to be serving as its headmistress for the last ten years makes me extremely happy,” shares a happy Raji.
Valayanchirangara LP may be a century old school but it is definitely progressive in nature!
