Romancing Hitler

By Tuhin A Sinha
Mumbai, India

Adolf Hitler’s romances followed an intriguing pattern- they carried a similar demonic streak in them that characterized his politics. 

All three known women to enter his life attempted suicide, which in turn cast serious aspersions over his psychological and sexual traits. However, if there is one relationship of Hitler’s that still evinces interest, it is that with Eva Braun, 23 years younger than him.  Braun was Hitler’s mistress for 12 years and wife for 40 hours.

Braun met Hitler in Munich when she was 17. She was working as an assistant and model for his personal photographer and began seeing him more often two years later. Much of Eva Braun’s viewpoint on their romance and her life with Hitler comes across on the site evabraun.dk

 According to the site, in 1931, Eva wrote a letter to Hitler:

"Dear Mr. Hitler, I would like to thank you for the pleasant evening at the theater. It was unforgettable... I count the hours until the moment when we shall meet again.." Braun soon agreed to follow Hitler to his mountain retreat in the Alps. Their attraction was immediate, and over the objection of her lower-middle-class Bavarian parents, she became his mistress."

Their relationship, post that is of the kind that would re-define the word ‘enigma’. Hitler wouldn’t publicly embrace her, nor privately disown her. He provided her an opulent life, replete with all material comforts, yet deprived her of the one thing she treasured most-his company. According to Hitler's chauffeur Erich Kempka, Braun spent most of her time waiting for Hitler.

Hitler kept Braun away from the public eye. His high-handedness towards her is said to have made his staff refer to Braun as “the girl in a gilded cage". Braun, for her part, only became rebellious- keeping up habits which Hitler detested, such as smoking and nude sunbathing.

In a tender moment though, Hitler is said to have confided his feelings for Braun in his personal valet, Heinz Linge, "Braun is too young to be the wife of one in my position. But she is the only girl for me. So we live as we do..."

So, did Hitler love Eva Braun?

Well, so it seems. Hitler’s definition of love, though, was significantly different from the way the world perceived it. It carried an element of perversity. Apparently, he believed in ‘controlling’ the lover, without in turn living up to his part of the involvement. This behavior surprisingly brings out insecurity in as much as it does vanity.

And did Eva Braun love Hitler?

Yes. What must have started off as an infatuation eventually stood the test of time, despite abuse of various kinds. It is believed that Hitler wanted her to be with him in death, just as she had stood by him for so many years in life. Braun fulfilled his wish as she always had. On 30^th April, 1945, Hitler and Braun committed suicide just when they were on the verge of being captured by the Soviet troops. The world discovered after their deaths that Hitler and Braun were man and wife. Hitler’s acquiescence to marry Braun- something she always wanted, barely 40 hours before their death, was his compensation/redemption for all that Braun had borne for him.

Had it not been for unconditional love, Braun would probably have realized the futility of craving for the moment of glory that simply wasn’t. Hitler’s narcissism did not spare his idea of love.

The article was first published in The Times of India

Patty Schnyder

Patty Schnyder (born 14 December 1978 in Basel) is a Swiss professional tennis player. She has been playing on the WTA tour since 1993 and is a former World No. 7. She has defeated several World No. 1 players, including Martina Hingis, Lindsay Davenport, Serena Williams, Arantxa Sanchez Vicario, Steffi Graf, Jelena Janković, Ana Ivanović, Jennifer Capriati, Kim Clijsters, Justine Henin, Amelie Mauresmo, and Maria Sharapova.

During her long career, she has reached four Grand Slam singles quarterfinals and one Grand Slam singles semifinal. She has won 11 WTA singles titles and 5 WTA doubles titles and has earned over US$7.6 million in prize money. As of July 27, 2009, Schnyder is ranked World No. 19.

Career

In 1996, Schnyder made her Grand Slam main-draw debut at the French Open. In 1997, she quickly rose up through the rankings, and by August 1998 she had entered the WTA Top 10. However, Schnyder fell out of the Top 10 in April 1999, and spent the next 6 years ranked in the 15–30 range before re-entering the Top 10 in May 2005.

In December 2003, Schnyder married Rainer Hofmann, a German private investigator and information technology specialist who has accompanied her on the WTA tour since 1999 and became her full-time tennis coach in early 2003. Hofmann carries a fraud conviction in Germany relating to his business dealings with German national communications firm Deutsche Telekom. Hofmann pled guilty in 2002 to embezzling the equivalent of $400,000 from the firm, and was put on probation for 3 years. In addition to coaching Schnyder, Hofmann has also worked with some other WTA players in a coaching capacity including Anna Chakvetadze and Sania Mirza.

Schnyder has won 11 singles titles, including a victory in Zürich (Tier I Event) over American former No.1 Lindsay Davenport, and 5 doubles titles. Her first title on U.S. soil came in August, 2005, when she won at Cincinnati's Western & Southern Financial Group Women's Open. Schnyder is perhaps best known for defeating 4 top 10 players consecutively, including Serena Williams and then-World No.1 Jennifer Capriati, in 2002 at the Family Circle Cup in Charleston, which is the largest women-only tennis event held in the United States.

Schnyder's best Grand Slam performance came at the 2004 Australian Open, where she reached the semifinal before falling to Kim Clijsters. Later that season, she also reached the semi-finals at the Tier 1 tournaments in Charleston and Zurich - two large WTA events where Schnyder has compiled an excellent record through the years.

2005 was Schnyder's most consistent overall season to date. She reached five tour finals, winning two of them (Gold Coast and Cincinnati, both Tier 3 events). She was runner-up at the Tier I events Rome (to Amélie Mauresmo) and Zurich (to Lindsay Davenport). She also reached the final in Linz (Tier 2), falling to Nadia Petrova. She reached the career high of World Number 7 after the end of season WTA Tour Championships.

2006 proved to be a good season for Schnyder also, staying within the top ten and reaching the finals in Charleston (defeating top seed and defending champion Justine Henin in the semis and also ending Henin's 27 match winning streak on clay, though Schnyder lost to Petrova in the final), and in Stanford (falling to top seed and defending champion Kim Clijsters).

Schnyder had a mediocre year in 2007, where she lost her top 10 ranking. She reached the fourth round of the Australian Open, where she lost to Anna Chakvetadze 6–4, 6–1 after leading 4–1 in the first set. At the French Open, she managed to reach the fourth round, where she had 2 matchpoints against Maria Sharapova but ended up losing 6–3, 4–6, 7–9. At Wimbledon, she was beaten in the fourth round by No.1 Justine Henin 6–2, 6–2. At the Acura Classic in July, she reached the final, beating former No.1 and compatriot Martina Hingis 6–1, 6–7(4), 6–3 and Russian Elena Dementieva 7–6, 6–0 along the way before losing to Sharapova again in three sets, 2–6, 6–3, 0–6. Schnyder briefly moved up due to this. However at the US Open she lost in the third round to the unseeded Austrian Tamira Paszek in a final set tie break, again wasting leads. After that she played at the Porsche Tennis Grand Prix at Stuttgart, where she fell 0–6 2–6 to Ana Ivanović. She finished her year with a run to the Generali Ladies Linz final, beating Chakvetadze 6–1, 6–0 in a quarterfinal and Marion Bartoli 7–6, 6–3 in a semifinal, before convincingly losing in the final to Hantuchová 4–6, 2–6.

Schnyder began 2008 by beating Amélie Mauresmo in the quarterfinals of the Mondial Women's Hardcourts tournament in the Gold Coast before losing to Li Na in the semifinals. At the Australian Open, she lost in the second round to Australian Casey Dellacqua 6–4, 5–7, 6–8. She then lost in the second round of the Proximus Diamond Games to eventual finalist Karin Knapp, losing in a final set tiebreak. She entered the Qatar Total Open and beat Paszek easily 6–4, 6–0. She lost to Slovakia's Dominika Cibulková in the second round 6–4 6–3. Schnyder then competed in the Bangalore Open, a Tier II event in Bangalore, India. She defeated Akgul Amanmuradova 4–6, 6–4, 7–6 in the quarterfinals and then managed to beat Zi Yan 6–3, 6–4 in the semifinal. However, she lost to Serena Williams 5–7 3–6 in the final.

Schnyder again lost to Casey Dellacqua at Wimbledon in the first round. She played an epic match, but lost 4–6, 6–3, 1–6.

Alongside Emmanuelle Gagliardi, Schnyder played for her team in the 2008 Summer Olympics according to the List of entrants.

At the US Open, Schnyder was seeded 15th. She beat Katarina Srebotnik in the 4th round to advance to the Quarterfinals, for the first time in 10 years, where she lost to fifth seeded Elena Dementieva.

At the 2008 Commonwealth Bank Tennis Classic, Schnyder won her first title in over 3 years when she defeated Tamira Paszek in the final 6–3, 6–0.

At the 2009 Madrid Masters, Schnyder defeated World No. 10 Nadia Petrova in the third round and World No. 4 Jelena Jankovic 7–6(6), 6–3 in the quarterfinals but lost to World No. 1 Dinara Safina in the semifinals 4–6, 2–6.

static
Country : Switzerland
Residence :Baech, Switzerland
Date of birth :(1978-12-14)
Place of birth :Basel, Switzerland
Height :1.68 m (5 ft 6 in)
Weight :56.6 kg (125 lb; 8.91 st)
Turned pro :1994
Plays L:eft-handed; Two-handed backhand

When Music Heals...

By Ananya Mukherjee
Singapore

“Jab sangeet ilaaj nahin kar paayi, to dawa kya ilaaj karegi?” I had heard one of India’s leading maestros utter these words in a live concert in Kolkata, last winter. The immense potential of the power of the cosmic flow of sound hidden in Indian Classical music has been well recognised since time in memoriam.  Ancient sages are said to have devised several musical patterns emanating from the Omkara to chant Vedic hymns for distinct spiritual effects. According to mythology, it was the Gandharvas or divine musicians who brought the Ragas from the gods to the humans. Interestingly, Vedic Science actually emphasises on the special healing effect both for individuals and for society as a whole originating from Raga music which at places, forms part of the therapeutic approaches of Ayurveda.

“If music is therapy to the soul what better music than Indian classical can be therapeutic? It soothes the soul as there is a solid grounding of philosophy in Indian classical music. Any form of art that has its birth in deep rooted philosophy is the answer to millions of problems of daily life,” feels maestro Pandit Debashish Bhattacharya. He cites the Raga Kalyan as an example. The raga he says is inspired by the word Kalyan which means good or welfare in a holistic sense in Sanskrit. “As a matter of practice, it is sung or played in the evening after the day’s work is over. A sense of surrender of the self to the Almighty prevails in the notion of movements traditionally. Those who listen and those who play this particular raga find a sense of joy that does not spring from any material source. They feel relaxed, rejuvenated and the mind refreshes. That is a therapeutic effect,” Pt Bhattacharya explains.

Pt Bhattacharya, who is known to be a phenomenon in the history of World Music and Indian Classical Music for creating a trinity of slide guitars, christened as Chaturangi, Gandharvi and Anandi, speaks very passionately about the therapeutic impacts and influences of Raga Music. Ragas, he explains, are known to correspond to specific laws of nature that predominate during the time of performance. Therefore, a raga is not just invented but rather cognized in the state of unambiguous awareness as the structure of sound and melody of creation.  Thus, the time of day and year and the elements condensed in the ragas are equally important to accentuate the impact on human psyche. “Ragas have set time scales as it is born from nature and on the soil of the civilization that was spread across continents of today. It has also unified mankind. Persian music may sound different but the time scales are more or less same as ours. Basically it has a psychological effect.  And of course, traditionally this has been the practice. If it did not suit us, the entire music would be unacceptable and obliterated. Our music comes from nature and is very scientific yet abstract. That's where it tickles the mind,” he adds.

After having won the BBC Radio Awards for World Music in 2007 and being nominated for the Grammy Awards for 2009, Pt Bhattacharya has recently launched O Sakuntala which is a musical interpretation of Kalidas’ Abhigyan Shakuntalam. We wish him all the best for his musical journey ahead and hope through his improvisations and experiments on Indian ragas, he will continue to heal our hearts and souls and spread the message of humanity, peace and contentment across the globe.

Debashishda and his music are both very close to my soul. Signing off with my thoughts for him...His music touches the audience where it should—the soul. He elevates music to a level where it is no longer restricted to the senses; it becomes a spiritual communion with the Gods.

(For more information on Pandit Debashish Bhatacharya and his music, you may  login to http://www.debashishbhattacharya.com)

The Alchemy of Identities

By Abdullah Khan
Motihari, Bihar, India
In 1996, a day after India’s fantastic win over Pakistan in the Cricket World Cup Quarterfinal, I was sitting in the offices of a leading English daily in Patna, the capital of the northern Indian state of Bihar. At that time, I used to be a freelance contributor to this national paper’s local edition. The paper’s features team and I were, of course, discussing cricket. Everybody was trying to guess which strategy the Indian team would adopt against a resurgent Sri Lankan team in the semi-finals.

All of a sudden, the discussion meandered to a new topic: is it true that every Indian Muslim secretly cheers for the Pakistan Cricket Team? Later, a more specific question was thrown at me by one of the sub-editors: “Tell us what’s more important to you, being an Indian, or being a Muslim? If you had to decide between one or the other, which one would you choose?”
“Both my identities are significant to me,” I replied, explaining how a person is capable of belonging to multiple communities at the same time. For example, my identities as a Bihari and as an Indian were not contradictory. Even in my personal life, I could simultaneously be a father, a son. But not everybody was convinced by my answer. I could see that some eyes contained traces of doubt about my unflinching loyalty towards my country. This wasn’t the first time my sense of devotion to a secular country had been doubted simply because of my religion.
Years ago, while I was studying in a school in a small town in provincial Bihar, my history teacher, who was known for his anti-Muslim bias, put forth a similar, tricky question towards the Muslim boys: “Are you Muslim first or Indian first?”
Some of the boys said, “Muslim first.”
A few of them said, “Indian first.”
Some didn’t say anything and remained silent.
My reply was altogether different. “I am both Muslim and Indian at the same time. I was born to Muslim parents, so I am a Muslim. I was born in India so I am an Indian. In fact, in the precise moment of my birth I automatically acquired both the identities.” At that point in time, I was a boy still, and I didn’t understand the intricacies and complexities of individual identity. That particular response, in fact, had been appropriated from my Granduncle, and he had read it in a magazine called Al-Risala, which was published by Maulana Wahiduddin Khan, a renowned Islamic scholar who had been internationally recognized for his contributions to world peace and promoting religious harmony.
During my formative years at college, I always pondered over the question of identities and how a person’s identity influences his thought process or molds his perception about anything and everything—how a person’s identity culturally conditions his individuality. As I grew however, I realized that we are not always consciously aware of all the facets of our identities. In fact, there are many layers of our identities—sub-identities and super-identities—of which we remain ignorant. Strangely, it sometimes takes other people’s prejudices and insecurities to reveal these hidden aspects of our identities to ourselves.
I was born in a small village called Pandari near Motihari, which is a small provincial town bordering Nepal, insignificant from any point of view apart from its historical value. Mahatma Gandhi had chosen this very place for his first experiment of the “Satyagraha” movement against the British landlords who were forcing the local peasantry to grow Indigo. Interestingly, George Orwell, one of the great authors of 20th century, was also born here.

I remember as a child, when I started going to Madarsa (religious school) in my village, I identified myself as a Pathan. In India, Pathan, a so-called upper caste, is part of a caste system of Muslims who claim their ancestry to the Pashtuns of Afghanistan. Film star Shahrukh Khan and cricketer Irfan Pathan are some famous Indian Pathans. As a child, I, along with my cousins and neighborhood boys would think that being a Pathan was the best thing in the world. Whenever we got into a fight with the boys of other castes we would abuse them using their caste names. For example we would call a Sheikh, Sheikh Shekhari. Sheikh is another caste among Muslims. The Sheikhs are believed to have either descended from Arab immigrants, or their forefathers were high caste Hindus who converted to Islam. One corner of our village had a predominantly Sheikh population referred to as Sheikh Toli.

My Grandmother, Dadi, told me she came from the family of Yusufzai Pathans, a superior sub-caste or clan of Pathan. And my Grandfather was not Yusufzai but was among the superior categories of Pathans. Right now I can’t recall what type of Pathan he was.
The neighboring village, Chandanbara, was a big one with the predominant population being Sheikhs. In the early-80s, a big Madarsa was built here. In that Madarsa my maternal uncle, my mother’s cousin, was a teacher. He taught Mathematics, English, and Hindi. I happened to visit my uncle one day and was impressed by the ambience of the Madarsa, where, along with religious subjects, secular courses were also taught. I decided to join it. At that time, I was studying in class four in the same village’s Government Middle School.
For the first time, I found myself in a classroom that was predominantly Sheikh. A few boys from so-called lower castes also studied there. But they kept a low profile and always sat on the back-benches. I was the only Pathan and sat on the first bench. Although I was below average in Arabic and Persian, I excelled in Mathematics, Hindi, English, and Science. The boys who had always been topping these subjects before my arrival were jealous of me. And to harass me, they identified something, which would allow them to rally the majority of the class against me. My caste. They called me Pathan Shaitan in order to tease me. In fact they pronounced Pathan as Paithan which rhymed perfectly with Shaitan. Their insult meant “Devil Pathan” or “Pathans are devils.” Their collective attempt to humiliate me only reinforced the prejudices I had acquired while growing up in my village. “Sheikhs are stingy; they are cruel and exploit poor people. They indulge in un-Islamic things like usury. They are more poisonous than cobra.”
Another point on which I was teased was for my being Barelvi, which is a school of thought among South Asian Sunni Muslims, venerating Sufis and approving visiting of Sufi shrines. The Madarsa was run by people following a school of thought called Ahle Hadith. In contrast to Barelvis, Ahle Hadiths reject Sufism and oppose excessive veneration of Sufi-saints, as they claim that all these go against the basic tenets of Islam. Chandanbara was predominantly Ahle Hadith. The boys ridiculed me saying that I was a Kabarpujwa—a grave worshipper. Within two months I left the Madarsa and returned to my old school.
At the age of 11, when I left my village for Katihar, a small district town in North-East Bihar, I became conscious of my Muslim identity. In my village and also in the neighboring villages, the entire population was mostly comprised of Muslims, so it never occurred to my juvenile mind that somebody could be other than a Muslim. Yes, my village did contain a few dozen houses of low caste Hindus like Noniyas, the saltmaker caste, Telis, the oil presser caste, Badhai, the carpenter caste and a few more. But they all lived on the fringes of village society and had never made it to the map of my imagination.
In the neighborhood at Katihar, there was a Hindu gentleman who always brought me chocolates or sweet candies and affectionately called me Miyan Ji. Miyan, now considered slightly offensive, is a slang word used for Muslims by non-Muslims. He often told me stories. Most of these stories centred around a cruel Muslim king. He would tell me graphic details of the torture and killing of Hindus under the rule of such kings. He also told me stories of Muslim invaders plundering India, destroying and looting its temples. At that time, I had little sense of history. Being in class five, I hardly knew anything about Mahmood of Ghazani, Muhammad Ghauri, or Nadir Shah. But the way in which he told his stories made me feel miserable. I felt as if he was holding me responsible for all the unfortunate events of the past just because I shared the same religion with those kings and invaders. For some time, I harbored a faint resentment towards him for demonizing Muslim kings. I secretly believed that he was telling lies. A Muslim, I believed, couldn’t be that cruel.
In my class at New Pattern English School in Katihar, a few Hindu boys bullied me and called me Miyanwa, a derogatory term used for Muslims in the provinces of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. I couldn’t dare to confront them.
Azmal was my class monitor. He sat on the first bench and always stood first in class. He was tall and physically robust. He was also a Muslim. I decided to complain to him about the boys. He immediately called the boys and threatened that he would break their neck-bones if they ever teased me. He also threatened to complain to the principal.
Since the principal too was a Muslim, the boys were frightened that severe action might be taken against them. They asked me to forgive them, which I finally did. After a few months, we forgot everything and became friends.
A few times I had a fight with some of my classmates and some of them teased me with a poem:
Chai Garam Chai Nahi Hai
Miyan Beta Mar Gaya Parwah Nahin Hai
(There is no cup of hot tea here. If a bloody Muslim dies, I don’t care.)
I would immediately retort with the same poem just replacing Miyan with Hindu.
Chai Gram Chai Nahi Hai
Hindu Beta Mar Gaya Parwah Nahin Hai
When my father was transferred to Patna, I was already in class eleven. The city of Patna is situated on the banks of the river Ganges, one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the world. A city with a glorious past, now it is the capital of one of India’s most impoverished states, Bihar. My father, a two time President medal awardee, was an Inspector with the Bihar Military Police. His image of being a man of honesty and integrity had won him a lot of admirers within the department cutting across caste and religion. In the Officers’ quarters of the Police colony of Patna, we were surrounded by Hindu neighbors, and there were only a couple of Muslim families including ours and one Christian family.
We celebrated the festivals of both Hindu and Muslims with verve and enthusiasm. For me each festival held the same significance be it Holi, Id, Durga Puja, Deepawali, and of course Chhath.
During the holy month of Ramzan, or Ramadan, when Muslims around the world fast from dawn until dusk, everyday some Hindu friends of my father would drop in at our place for Iftar or the ritual breaking of fast. We also sent Iftar items, food items prepared for breaking the fast, to at least two-to-three Hindu families daily.
During the Hindu festivals we were inundated with invitations. During the Chhath, my room would be full of buckets full of homemade delicacies: sugarcanes, coconuts, apples, and other fruits. All these things are offered as prasad to the Sun God during Chhath puja, the most sacred Hindu festival in Bihar. Amma, my mother, believed that the sacred offerings should not be wasted. She would call a few poor women from the neighboring mohalla to take the major part of the prasad. They were happy to get so much to eat. Amma ensured that not even a single piece of prasad was wasted.
While living in the Police colony, I was never questioned about my identity as an Indian. But when a cricket match took place between India and Pakistan my loyalty was questioned. Back in those days we didn’t have a television at home. So, I used to go to the Police Canteen to watch the matches, which used to be crowded when the two contemptuous siblings took to the cricket field. An India-Pakistan match used to be very difficult to watch. Throughout the match, many viewers would attempt to discern whether I was supporting India or Pakistan. The tyranny of peering eyes made me behave in odd ways. If I clapped on the fall of a Pakistani wicket many of them suspected that I was simply pretending. At that time Azharuddin, the Indian cricketer and later the captain of Indian Cricket team, was an icon for Muslim youth, and I too took pride in the fact that a Muslim was out there fighting our arch-rivals, Pakistan. But I avoided praising Azhar out loud because I feared that people around me might interpret it the wrong way. They might think I was praising Azhar because he was a fellow Muslim and not because he was a fine player.
When Azhar played well I heard people wax eloquent. But when he failed he was abused (however not every time) as Salaa Miyan. It was not that other players were spared when they failed to perform, but their religion was never used to slander them.

My friend’s elder brother, whom I fondly call Bishambhar Bhaiya, is a Kankubja Brahmin Hindu, pure vegetarian, a fan of the right-wing nationalist leader Atal Bihari Vjapayee and a great believer in the secular structure of India. He is also a great fan of Pakistani Cricketers. As a team he supports India, but he appreciates the individual brilliance of many Pakistani players, especially Imran Khan. His room is adorned by a man-size poster of Imran Khan. I couldn’t afford to hang the same poster. Being a Hindu and a high caste Hindu, Bishambhar Bhaiya’s loyalty towards India was taken for granted. If I had shown any enthusiasm for the dapper Pakistani cricketer, I would be declared a traitor.

In 1998 when I joined a public sector bank and travelled across the country, I realized how biased the country was against Biharis. From MP to Maharashtra, Punjab to Gujarat, I found many people making a mockery of Biharis and the state of Bihar. They considered Biharis corrupt, uncouth and uncultured. In Delhi I was shocked to learn that the word Bihari was a swear word. A Punjabi gentleman at my bank’s canteen tried hard to explain me, over a delectable meal of Rajma-Chawal—curried kidney beans with boiled rice—that though I was from Bihar, I was not a Bihari. Because, according to him, Bihari meant uncultured and rogue. I was, instead, decent and cultured. Infuriated by his comments, I shot back, “That way, you are not a Punjabi. Because Punjabi means a motherfucker.” He got angry and walked away saying, Salaa Bihari.

When I was posted in a small town in Punjab, which was once a hotbed of Sikh militancy, I came across many people who thought that Biharis were only agri-laborers, masons, or rickshaw pullers. They praised me for being so decent despite being Bihari, and that disgusted me.

While the city folks made a mockery of my Bihari identity, the Sikhs of rural Punjab respected me when they came to know that I came from Patna, the birthplace of the tenth Guru of Sikhism. Some of the veterans of those villages even kissed my hands. They said since I was coming from the Holy City of Patna Sahib, the birthplace of Guru Gobind Singh ji, I deserved respect. During those rare occasions I felt genuinely elated.

Otherwise, most of the time, wherever I was in Punjab, I was asked strange questions about Bihar and my Bihari-identity with an unnerving regularity. At times, in sheer frustration, I would shoot back at people, “Before leaving Bihar I got my horns sawed off and tail chopped off, so I don’t look like a Bihari.” Sometimes, the strange questions would be about my being a follower of Islam.

The city of Gurdaspur, where I lived in Punjab, was hardly twenty miles from the Pakistan Border, and a sizeable percentage of the place’s population had migrated from Pakistan at the time of partition. And many carried horror stories with them. Stories of their houses set ablaze by Muslim league supporters, of Hindu and Sikh women raped by Muslim goons, of innocent Hindu and Sikhs hacked to death by Mobs screaming “Allah-o-Akbar.” When they told the stories, they stressed the word Muslim, as if to see how I would react. Most of the times, I felt guilty for something, something which had happened decades before my birth.
It was the summer of ’99 when I had gone to the nearby village of Gurdaspur to recover a loan. On the outskirts of the village there was a small market that housed a branch of a nationalised bank. The manager of the branch was known to me and was recently transferred to this place. When he saw me standing outside his office, he sent a peon to fetch me. I went there and was made to sit in his cabin. On the chair next to me was seated a genial faced old man with a brown turban and a flowing off-white beard. The manager went outside for some work. He didn’t return for a while. To break the silence, the old man, a Sikh, asked my name. “Abdullah Khan,” I replied. At once, he held my hands, kissed them, and said, with tears running down his eyes, that my name was very nice. Surprised by his gesture, I asked him what was so special about my name. He told me some story from his past about one Abdullah Khan, his childhood friend in a village near Lahore, now in Pakistan but then in undivided British India, and how this friend, despite the risk to his own life, had helped his family to cross the border to India.
His cheeks were soaked with tears as he was talking about his friend, Abdullah, whom he had last seen in 1947. He wished to meet him before he died but he was not sure if he was alive.
He wiped his tears and said smilingly, “May God bless you my son.”
The old man’s predilection for the name Abdullah made me proud of my name.
For a few minutes, I relished the joy of being Abdullah Khan. And during those glorious moments I was not an Indian. I was not a Muslim. I was not a Bihari. I was not a Pathan.
I was just Abdullah. Nothing else but Abdullah Khan.

(Abdullah, my friend, is a banker from Motihari, Bihar, He has written for The Hindu, The Times of India, The Hindustan Times, The daily Star and Brooklyn Rail. He is working on his first novel and can be reached at abdullah71@gmail.com.)

Rachel McLish

Rachel McLish (born June 21, 1955) née Raquel Livia Elizondo is an American female bodybuilding champion, actress and author.

McLish was winner of the inaugural Ms. Olympia competition in 1980, was sponsored by Dynamics Health Equipment Manufacturing Corporation and was also the Ms. Olympia winner in 1982.

In January 1999, McLish was inducted into the IFBB Hall of Fame.
Contest history
* 1980 US Bodybuilding Championship - 1st
* 1980 Frank Zane Invitational - 2nd
* 1980 IFBB Ms. Olympia - 1st
* 1981 IFBB Ms. Olympia - 2nd
* 1982 Pro World Championship - 1st
* 1982 IFBB Ms. Olympia - 1st
* 1983 Caesars World Cup - 3rd
* 1984 IFBB Ms. Olympia - 2nd



Personal Info
Birth : June 21, 1955 (1955-06-21) (age 55), Harlingen, Texas, American
Height : 5' 5" (1.65 m)
Weight : 129 lb
Professional Career
Best win : Ms. Olympia two times, 1980 and 1982
Active : Retired 1984

Indian Weddings

By Sanjay Austa
New Delhi, India

Indian weddings are a raucous affair. Much like India itself there is too much colour, too much noise and too much chaos. But in the end there is somehow a semblance of order. Amidst the throngs of guests, heaps of food, and ear-drum shattering music there are an endless array of rites and rituals. Mysterious aunts, uncles and second cousins emerge from the woodwork and stump you with their knowledge of each ceremony and insist you perform each one of them to the letter.

I think nothing brings out the most in an indian family than a wedding. Ancient traditions are revived, forgotten gods evoked, lost friends found, long lasting relationships formed and much which is taken for granted in the mad rush of modern day life is given its due place and reverence. This rare openness of spirit and bonhomie throws some priceless moments that a photographer can never get on any other occasion.

 
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Rebecca Neuenswander

Rebecca Neuenswander, bourgeois Rebecca Welsh, is an American film actress, martial artist and model.

Rebecca Neuenswander was born in Jefferson City, Missouri, in 1980. She launched her acting career with "Rigged" (2008) in a role that closely mirrors her own life experiences. A born fighter, she trained in Tae Kwon Do throughout her teenage and young adult years. At the age of 20, she captured the title at the American Taekwondo Association's World Championships. Neuenswander won the world title while competing in the Women's Second Degree Black Belt 20-29 year-old division. The event was held June 16-18 in Little Rock, Ark. Neuenswander began competing in taekwondo in 1995 and trained in Columbia,
Kansas City and Chicago. Her instructor was Brian Davidson.

During her high school - time, she played several roles in the school play. As a model she worked for Nokia, Coca Cola, Lee won, etc. In 2000 the World Championship of Taekwondo. In her martial arts career, she took it to 17 victories and 29 defeats.
First experiences with film in the Independent Film is Fight Night film "Rigged".

Rebecca has worked extensively has a model and commercial actress, appearing in campaigns for Nokia, Under Armour and Lee Jeans. For the role of Katherine Parker, in "Rigged" (alternative title: Fight Night) she gained 20 pounds of muscle. At one point during filming, Neuenswander seriously injured her neck and had to take a six-month break before she could complete the movie.

She says that her life’s greatest accomplishment thus far has been the creation of the not-for-profit organization H.A.L.O. (Helping Art Liberate Orphans). Rebecca’s work with H.A.L.O takes her around the globe as she conducts art workshops for orphans and delivers aid generated by her fundraising efforts in the U.S.

Tranzalpine-A Slice of New Zealand

By Bidisha Bagchi
St Joseph, Michigan, USA

The Canterbury region of New Zealand begins with volcanic hills and continues to the rich farmlands of the region to finally end at the Southern Alps; a beautifully photogenic region comprising of variety of colours, blue lakes, green farms and white peaks….absolutely marvelous!

To get a taste of this unique region we went a little beyond Christchurch, the main city of this region. We took a ride on one of the World’s greatest train journeys, the Tranzalpine. The train crosses the entire Southern Alps starting from one coast to the other; from Pacific Ocean to the Tasman Sea.

At first the sight of the train, we were a little disappointed, it looked a little old. Later we learnt that the coaches were purposely built the old-fashioned way to give us an authentic experience of the train as it was when it first back in 1938. There was nothing shabby about the interiors though — the train’s decor was plush and stylish, with comfortable seats mostly arranged in groups of four, ideal for a family. Every seat had a wide window too, giving majestic views of the landscape outside.

Interestingly, seat numbers are not allotted when the tickets are booked. Only when boarding the train we could request a seat of our choice. We could have done that on phone the previous day, but we were lazy! There is also a full-length viewing platform at the centre of the train and you have to ask for a seat on a coach near this, for if it didn’t rain, the perch was ideal place for taking photographs or just watching the scenery, unobstructed. There’s even a café for refreshments.
The Tranzalpine left Christchurch on the dot of its scheduled time of 8:15am and within minutes the city landscape changed. We approached verdant farmlands with the train chugging along the Canterbury plains and heading towards the Southern Alps….The excitement was truly building up.

An hour later the train actually started climbing up the Southern Alps leaving behind the mesmerizing views of the gorge of the River Waimakiriri. S series of steel girder bridges over gorges and through tunnels passed by as we started climbing. The highest viaduct, 73 m above the river, is quite appropriately called the ‘staircase’! The views around changed again, with plateau around and hills in the horizon fading away in the blue sky. Vast stretches of snow covered land and mountains came into view. When the train pulled up at the snowy Arthur’s pass station and we got off to stretch a bit and see the snow-clad views around...
A little later we boarded the train again and headed for the Otira tunnel. Being 8.6 km long,

This is the longest tunnel in the whole of New Zealand.... which isn’t bad for such a tiny country! The viewing platform was closed when the train entered the tunnel and I had to reluctantly return to my seat. After crossing Otira, the old railway towns and mining regions of New Zealand passed by and we finally reached Greymouth at 12.45 pm, the final stop for the train. Greymouth got its name for being, quite literally at the mouth of River Grey. Once a Maori village, Greymouth is now exclusively used as a starting point to visit Punakaiki and the Pancake Rocks. Tour buses leave from just outside the station and we boarded one that would take us to the rocks and blowholes. We were transfixed by a traffic sign that warned us of crossing penguins! Nowhere in the world had I seen this sign and we craned our necks hoping to see one of these sombre looking creatures! Alas, no such luck so we continued on our journey down a road that was carved out from mountains. Hugging the coastline, it ran through dense rainforests, and the spectacular views of the coastline awed us throughout.

Arriving at Punakaiki, we headed to the information centre to check about the high tide as that’s when blowholes can be seen. A moderate walk through a native rainforest — that occasionally afforded us glimpses of stunning rocks in the distance and the Punakaiki coastline — finally brought us to the Pancake Rocks.

As the main attraction, it wasn’t a bad deal! A section of limestone rocks had undergone a layering and weathering process that caused the rocks to look like stacks of thin pancakes. They indeed resembled pancakes, manmade that too such was the similarity between the thicknesses of two rocks!

We enjoyed the fascinating views all around and then concentrated on the water that was slowly filling up the pool, swirling around and sloshing against the steep rock walls around it. Suddenly there was a whirling sound and a whoosh as water gushed out of the rocks…

We all applauded, as if we were waiting for that ‘blowhole’ show to happen and that it was now over. Spending some time looking out at the Tasman Sea and the amazing view of the coastline, we returned to Greymouth to spend the rest of the day. We had booked ourselves in the next day’s Tranzalpine to return to Christchurch, giving us an entire day in Greymouth.

This article was first published in ET Travel, The Economic Times

Darya Pishchalnikova

Darya Vitalyevna Pishchalnikova is a female discus thrower from Russia. Her personal best throw is 65.78 metres, achieved when she won the silver medal at the 2007 World Championships in Osaka, August 2007.

Pishchalnikova is the sister of Bogdan Pishchalnikov. She was selected to represent Russia at the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing, but on 31 July, she was suspended from competition due to doping test irregularities, along with several other high-profile Russian female athletes.

On 20 October 2008, it was announced that Pishchalnikova was one of seven Russian athletes receiving a two-year doping ban for manipulating drug samples


Personal information
Full name :Darya Vitalyevna Pishchalnikova
Date of birth :July 19, 1985 (1985-07-19)
Place of birth :Astrakhan Oblast , Russia
Height :1.89 m (6 ft 2+1⁄2 in)
Weight :95 kilograms (210 lb)
Personal best(s) :discus – 65.78 m (2007)

Achievements
Year /Tournament /Venue /Result /Extra
2001 /World Youth Championships /Debrecen, Hungary /2nd
2002 /World Junior Championships /Kingston, Jamaica /8th
2004 /World Junior Championships /Grosseto, Italy /2nd
2005 /Universiade /İzmir, Turkey /6th
2006 /European Championships /Gothenburg, Sweden /1st /65.55 m = PB
2006 /World Cup /Athens, Greece /4th
2007 /World Championships /Osaka, Japan /2nd /65.78 m = PB

Franka Dietzsch

Franka Dietzsch (born January 22, 1968 in Wolgast) is a German discus thrower best known for winning gold medals at three World Championships in Athletics. She won the 1998 European Championships and 1999 World Championships, but did not return to the international podium until her win at the 2005 World Championships. At the age of 39 she won her third world championship title in 2007 in Osaka. This victory makes her the oldest athlete ever to win a gold medal in an athletic world championship. After spending a year away from the field due to health problems, she returned to competition at the Wiesbaden meet. She finished in second place with 61.49 metres, remaining focused on defending her discus World Champion at the Berlin World Championships.

Her personal best throw is 69.51 metres, achieved in May 1999 in Wiesbaden. This result ranks her ninth among German discus throwers, behind Gabriele Reinsch, Ilke Wyludda, Diana Gansky-Sachse, Irina Meszynski, Gisela Beyer, Martina Hellmann-Opitz, Evelin Jahl and Silvia Madetzky.



Personal data
Name: Franka Dietzsch
Born: 22/1/1968
Size / Weight: 183 cm / 92 kg
Occupation: Bank employee
Discipline: Discus Throw
Club: SC Neubrandenburg since 1/1/1991
Previous clubs: ASG Koserow (to 1981) and SC Empor Rostock (1982 - 1990)
pers Best performance: 69,51 m (1999) 69.51 m (1999

Achievements
Year / Tournament /Venue /Result
1986 / World Junior Championships /Athens, Greece /2nd
1993 / World Championships /Stuttgart, Germany /8th
1994 / European Championships /Helsinki, Finland /9th
1995 / World Championships /Gothenburg, Sweden /7th
1998 / European Championships /Budapest, Hungary /1st
1998 / IAAF World Cup /Johannesburg, South Africa /1st
1999 / World Championships /Seville, Spain /1st
2000 / Olympic Games /Sydney, Australia /6th
2001 / World Championships /Edmonton, Canada /4th
2003 / World Athletics Final /Monte Carlo, Monaco /6th
2004 / World Athletics Final /Monte Carlo, Monaco /7th
2005 / World Championships /Helsinki, Finland /1st
2005 / World Athletics Final /Monte Carlo, Monaco /2nd
2006 / European Championships /Gothenburg, Sweden /2nd
2006 / World Athletics Final /Stuttgart, Germany /1st
2006 / IAAF World Cup Athens, /Greece /1st
2007 / World Championships /Osaka, Japan /1st