Language love
Sriganesh Raman, who is into marketing, spent four weeks of the lockdown learning sign language. “I signed up for a basic course with v-shesh, an organisation that works in the field of disability inclusion; they help improve the employability skills of the differently-abled as well as work with corporates on facilitating an inclusive workspace.” Sriganesh’s wife works with the organisation and when he heard of the course, he thought, why not.
Sriganesh Raman
“I have always had a liking for learning new languages,” explains the 42-year-old, adding that two years ago, when he was on a sabbatical from work, he learned French at Alliance Française of Madras, and finished up to Level Three.
He spent 16 hours on Zoom classes for his sign language course, managing WFH, as well as an active toddler. “I scheduled my classes on weekends mostly,” he explains. “The course was interactive; I learned words as well as alphabets.” Sriganesh leads a busy life and says that had it not been for the lockdown-imposed downtime, he would not have learned a new language.
He still has not decided what to do with the new skill he has acquired. “It may come in handy for Town Halls in the corporate set-up; I could turn into an interpreter…I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take this up full-time once I retire.”
For details on the course, write to learning@v-shesh.com
One with Nature
An idle mind is the devil’s workshop — Chennai-based photographer Amar Ramesh would remind himself time and again during the lockdown, while isolating in his farm, Kadambavanam, in Cheyyur.
The photographer put his time to good use by refurbishing the farm and building specific, unassuming yet useful pieces, like for instance, an outdoor shower. Flanked by a natural wall made of bamboo saplings, the open shower runs through the crevice of a discarded coconut tree log.
A watchtower overlooking the road followed, which acts as a vantage point from where the nearby fields can be seen. A tulsi maadam made using a compost pot which was filled with coconut husk and red sand, was next in line.
“The more I used my hands to build things, the more creative I felt. One’s creativity increases when one is in action,” says Amar.
“More than a skill or a habit, this phase in the farm has taught me how simple, peaceful and content is a life aligned to Nature,” says the photographer who is currently in the process of fashioning a bathtub, next to the shower, using a discarded tub picked up from an old construction site. Some of the logs that are used for his endeavours were also washed ashore the beach nearby.
Does he have any expertise in working with stone or wood? He chuckles, “It’s all YouTube and time.”
Chop, chop
Dentist Yohan Chacko is normally accustomed to spending his evenings drilling teeth and filling cavities. But now, he has translated his skills onto wood. He is a semi-professional carpenter now, a skill he picked up during the lockdown.
“Carpentry is similar to dentistry,” he laughs. Perhaps a little more difficult as it involves handling larger equipment that can get unwieldy. Plus, if you make an incision in wood, it is not going to complain like a patient would.
Thanks to his new hobby, Yohan’s terrace is now covered with all his experiments — this includes complete pieces like deck chairs, wardrobe, boxes, musical instruments, dovetail boxes, gift boxes, a few incomplete ones, as well as some that look like they have no future. The latter is what he refers to as “carcasses of failed experiments”.
“I got interested in carpentry when I was 17 and watched my grandfather, a hobby carpenter, create things. I liked how pieces of wood could be put together to construct something useful and long lasting,” says Yohan.
Luckily, he had all the equipment and wood required as he had stocked up four years back, when his wife suggested he should try his hand at this hobby. But he never really got around to doing anything then.
In March, when Yohan picked up a saw and hammer, the first thing he made was a wardrobe for his clinic. While the frame was easy, it was a task to get the doors to align perfectly. One wrong cut and that entire piece of wood is wasted. “One of the adages in carpentry is, ‘You always measure twice, so you cut once.’”
It took him a month to complete it. However, it was the dovetail boxes that seemed most challenging, says Yohan. “It has intricate joinery and very precise cuts that I was trying to do by hand. It did get frustrating at times,” he says. But now, working with wood is almost like meditation for him. “Nothing fazes or upsets me. I vent on wood,” he laughs, proudly wearing his battle scars (read: wood cuts and deep gashes) like ornate epaulettes.
Hoop hoop hurrah
Shormistha Mukherjee is on an important work call. She has her phone in one hand and a hula hoop in the other. She hoops it like an expert on her elbow. Clearly, it is addictive.
“I had a hoop for eight years and could do the basic waist hoop,” says Mumbai-based Shormistha who co-owns a digital agency. The 47-year-old got interested in it after watching a few people hula hooping at a park.
A few months back she attended a class in Mumbai and bought a couple of new hoops just before the lockdown came into effect. So, over the next few weeks she started online training with hoop dancer, Eshna Kutty, where she attended four classes in a month. Those two-hour sessions of being playful is just what she needed, Shormistha says.
“When the lockdown was first announced, we had never seen something like that and didn’t know how to cope with it. It was nice to have the hoop,” she adds. To her, hooping feels like a good break from things and she enjoys the childlike joy of the activity. Plus the added surprise of the body suddenly responding to a move feels like a bonus.
A cancer survivor, Shormistha says, “I had a year of not being able to do much. I can do everything now like yoga and cycle but I can’t lift more than five kilograms. So hooping is a great exercise.” And when the lockdown ends and it is time to go back to work, “I am definitely taking my hoop with me,” she laughs.
