Sunday, July 17, 2011

Spot light on Indian Independents


http://sundaytribune.newspaperdirect.com/epaper/viewer.aspx

Sunday Herald Tribune  - Durban , SA, 17 July 2011


Veruschka Mungaroo



When did you start making movies and what was your first project? 

I started making documentaries in my early twenties. I extended my student activist days in street theatre to cinema. Digital cinema was my refuge. I fixed a digital camera and a micro phone in my body and travelled through my villages, filming people and their lives whose voices are never heard or concerned. I used the videos as a tool for a participatory dialogue within the communities addressing the core issues like Caste Inequalities, Culture and Practices, Gender, Human rights, Globalisation, Water Politics etc. My first video was "Mathamma" which kindled a wide discourse and intervention in the cultural practice of a community which offers their children as brides to their deity called Mathamma and how eventually they become sex workers.

Your Dead Sea will be featured at Durban International Film Festival in the International Competition. In a nut shell, what is the movie about?

Sengadal, the Dead Sea is my debut feature fiction which captures the fragments of simple lives beaten by three decade long ethnic war in Srilanka. It unfolds in a border village at Dhanushkodi,the southernmost tip of India which is a ruin in State ledgers but  breathes life through the fishermen families who refuse to leave this ravaged land once hit by sand storm . Fishermen fishing in fear in ignorance of friendly and enemy waters in the borders get dumped as rebels, spies and smugglers and unceremoniously beaten to death or shot or maimed. But still everyday we say their boats get launched and the life gets going. Srilankan Tamil refugees who are dispossessed of their land and gods arrive in this crucible dead or alive. 

This is again a community cinema in which Dhanushkodi fishermen, Rameswaram refugees and general public have acted and helped in production and all the incidents portrayed in the film are facts as told by them.

Is the film considered to be a mainstream Bollywood movie? If so, why and what is, in your opinion, a mainstream Bollywood movie. How would you classify or genre your movie?

Bollywood is a clean trade. Mafias gamble their money in Bollywood and their ethics is based on the business of winning it. Ignorance of masses is their investment and it is foolish for anyone to think bollywood's motive is Art other than profits. 

I have short circuited myself from the mainstream from my student days as I had different principles in Life. I have been always be part of alternative art and literary movements and rebelled against feudalism which is otherwise the character of mainstream. As an art practitioner I identify with the small communities who refuse to be by standers but try and do some intervention on the sight of oppression. Sengadal the Dead Sea is still considered an impossible attempt of making a people's film dealing direct politics that too from the land I come from, where populist cinema is considered to be a supply chain of chief ministers, where virtual heroes are worshiped as Gods and ultimately the saviors of masses.

Dead Sea is a factual fiction feature and it is a community film made and executed by them voicing out their life and concerns.

What is the difference between mainstream Bollywood films and independent films? Are independent films arty ones and what is your definition and what is considered to be an Indian independent film?

Right now, in Bollywood, it is the time of celebration of mediocrity. It is amusing to see how it is pushed to some representation of excellence. In Post globalization scenario, Market is more powerful than State. And Market pretending to be socially concerned is a high voltage drama and its seduction is irresistible to masses. But Art is something else. Art is always independent of market, state or any other power structures. Infact it challenges.

Indian Independent film is an untouchable indeed and it is going through the toughest times. Corporate Governments and Open Market have shrunk the space for any independent expression and it looks like almost a null. Censorship operates in many ways institutionally and non institutionally to curb the independent makers and their voices. We are looked at by the establishment as some terrorists and independent videos as some bombs.When an independent art practitioner rises to reach wider audience, State and Market has all ways to see the maker dies before he ever attempts.

I should also say, with all these factors, independent cinema in India and world over still thrives. Digital Technology has made the medium more democratic and now more people afford to make cinema . It is no more the medium of some filthy rich people. There is hope but still so much to do and fight.


The storyline is very unusual.  What made you delve into this topic and how have audiences reacted to it so far?

India is been always a big brother to its neighboring countries. India is the one that nurtured Tamil weapon movements in Srilanka and also made them lose the war and their cause at the end of three gruesome decades of loss and suffering. Srilankan War Crimes are now exposed in the international media and there is an outcry for a trial on the excesses committed by the government in the International Court of Justice and Law. Recent UN reports clearly states that the SL government has conducted genocide. As an Indian, I am ashamed because my government has supported the war and has been a kingpin. 

Srilankan Tamils are the community in their fight for their right to self determination who have lost thousands of lives so brutally to the hands of State and Revolution. Srilankan Tamils had to constantly negotiate with the dominant Sinhala State of Srilanka and the rigid control of community exercised by Tamil militant organization Liberation of Tigers of Tamil Ealam (Ealam is the imagined Tamil State fought for by the militants)whose extremist and militarist stances have created a culture of fear and anxiety among the Tamil Polity. This has led to migration of hundreds and thousands of people fleeing across the coasts as refugees to India and other countries. 

The misery spells over the Indian shores and the fishermen in the coastal borders suffer their very right to profess their traditional fishing rights. They speak the same language as the ethnic minorities in Srilanka and the racist Srilankan Navy kill them in the name of "Border Crossing".

As one of the voices of Dissent against Indian government aiding the Srilankan government's genocide, being a silent witness was slowly making me numb. It is still awfully painful to helplessly watch what is going on to my fraternity in Srilanka. I wanted to cry aloud and that is Sengadal the Dead Sea. 

What was the inspiration behind the movie and are you personally attached to the storyline of the movie?

I initially went to Dhanushkodi to know more about Rose Mary (the war widow, who lost her husband in Srilankan Navy Shooting) and her services to refugees’ community. Through her I came to know about the fishermen community at large and their abysmal lives. Their plights and their ability to live expanded me emotionally. I was inspired by the charecters like Kangesu, Munusamy, Aandy, Kaaliyamma, Muthuraasu and many other fisherfolk who shared their food and shelter along with their life stories. Those stories have jolted me and made my spirit linger in Dhanuskodi's shores and sands.I was like a wandering crow sometimes, a mourning dog sometimes, a digging turtle sometimes and I was smelling fish and salt during those days. 

Then I decided to tell this experience of mine to the world. I still remember that night when stars were hanging like ripe fruits of my ancestors twinkling to my wishes.

Do you think that Indian independent films are sidelined or is not given as much attention compared to mainstream Bollywood movies? If so, why?

I bet Independent films will do better with the audience if they are promoted well with the same PR budget a mainstream movie has. No media reports or even recognizes avant-garde attempts. I am sure, it is the same scene in South Africa or anywhere else in the world. Cinema is still a bloody capitalistic tool and it involves money in its every aspect, say making, disseminating etc., Everybody wants to earn 200 when they are willing to invest 2.That is how the whole world thinks and operates. 

Independent art is a voice of conscience and it will always be sidelined for its very character of what it does to its readers/viewers. Bollywood stops you think and it will always be celebrated exactly for that and it is common sense.

In your opinion, why has the Indian film industry not touched on relevant issues like the Dead Sea
but mostly stick to love triangles?
   
What other stories other than love triangles and gangster fights make my people more regressive and dumb? Film as an industry will be interested only in those narratives and characters and a certain way of telling them within the formula, as it only requires consumers for its produce.
Is there a strong message that you are trying to portray in The Dead Sea? If so, what is it and why specifically this message?

Dead Sea is a documentation of  what I found as Truth. I am not a messiah and I do not believe in giving any message. I come across something which disturbs me and feels me that this experience has to be shared to the fellow human beings.I witness, become a witness but at least proactively express when I am not able to change lives and situations.  Fortunately I write and had learnt cinema and when I am convinced that I can express through that medium, I try and do that.

We wage wars and lose wars but we continue to welcome tomorrows with another war. When we acknowledge it, it is Art and when we do not acknowledge it, it is History. We resist, revolt, die or live partly and I see my art as an extension of those. I cannot be part of Power but can be a voice of dissent and Dead sea is such a voice if dissent.

Name some of your other films and works?

My collections of poems are ‘Ottrailaiyena’ (solo, as a lone leaf), ‘Ulakin Azhakiya Muthal Penn’ (The first beautiful woman in the world)and Parathaiyarul Raani(Queen of Sluts). I have currently taken up a visual art fellowship with PSBT on Tamil Women Poetry and Desire through the ages of Sangam, Medieval and Modern periods. My specialisation is on Media and Conflict resolution and I had been an EU Scholar in art practice, secured a commonwealth fellowship in 2009 and currently been awarded Charles Wallace Art Fellowship. My films include Mathamma, Parai, Break the Shackles, Love Lost, Altar, Waves after Waves, Connecting Lines, A Hole in the Bucket, Goddesses.

 Tell us a bit about your personal background.

I was born into a farmer’s family, south of Tamilnadu. I should be farming but unfortunately not for not very valuable reasons. My late father was a Tamil professor and the first to earn a degree in our family. My mother is a country goddess in her soul. I have a younger brother who is also into media practice. My father was a left progressive writer and my grandfathers and uncles are communist leaders holding state and national positions. I owe my understanding of my society to my Marxist background and bringing up and as a social being I am committed to fight injustice since my youth. There was a crucial time in my youth to decide to continue as a full time activist or artist. I stand somewhere as Artivist I guess. Inequalities in my society unsettle me and for me art is a way of communicating to my own people and I continue to learn and unlearn through the process. Though qualified as an Engineer, I chose art and that is the way to freedom and being for me. I have convictions to live my choice whatsoever. 

Have you experienced any controversy about The Dead Sea?

Dead Sea was banned by Central Board of Film Certification for its political content and the way the film criticizes Indian and Srilankan governments. I fought the case with the Appellate Tribunal authorities and the grievances court subsequently quashed the order and guide lined for re examination. And now, the film is cleared with an Adult Certification without any cuts and I think this is the victorious moment for artists who believe in freedom of expression. How difficult is to prove the artist can challenge an establishment in this so called democracy and how fat a lie is this freedom.

I can never compromise in my artistic freedom and I strongly believe that no STATE has any business in dictating ART. Truth can be un comfortable but it is our responsibility to deal with it and not turning away from it. Dead Sea blatantly reveals how this Nations, Borders, Boundaries are all against the humanity and test the very basic right to live in this world. Dead Sea speaks about the constant negotiation of ordinary lives in between gun of revolution and gun of state.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

“Censorship feels like it’s mutilating my organs”

Thanks
http://www.sampsoniaway.org/blog/2011/06/20/filmmaker-leena-manimekalai-%E2%80%9Ccensorship-feels-like-its-mutilating-my-organs%E2%80%9D/

Madhuchhanda Ray Choudhury


In January 2011, the Indian Censor Board banned the screening of Leena Manimekalai’s film Sengadal, The Dead Sea. Depicting the plight of Tamil fishermen refugees as they flee a war ravaged Sri Lanka into India, Sengadal, like Manimekalai’s eight other films, gives voice to an oppressed community.
Only after a long and exhausting legal battle was Sengadal recently cleared for public exhibition with an A rating (for adult audiences only). Manimekalai feels “this is a moment of victory for one’s artistic freedom. This confirms that art prevails over the state’s power.”
A strident supporter of artistic freedom, Manimekalai refuses to confine herself to a single creative medium. Apart from being an independent film maker, Manimekalai has also penned three poetry collections. Her films have won accolades in film festivals both in India and abroad and have been screened by many social activist groups. Hailing from Tamil Nadu, India, Manimekalai’s art is a rebellion against caste and gender persecution.
In this interview with Sampsonia Way, Manimekalai reveals how her past shaped her artistic vision and explains the challenges that plague her as she strives to retain an independent voice.
……….
You were originally trained as an engineer. What turned you towards film-making?
I am a madwoman, and my vision is an open sea. I never wanted to be someone counting the boats going by. In fact, I am number blind. Additions, subtractions, multiplications and divisions appear like double lies to me. As a child, I pretended to be good at math and science just to keep my parents happy. As a middle class girl of a ‘third world’ family, when you get qualified and enrolled in a professional degree, you can only do ‘n’ number of things, and your family questions your actions less. But I hate a secure life. One’s mind stops working when ‘secured.’
When I started my independent life, I stopped trying to make others happy and started chasing myself through writing, cinema and being in love. Of course, this was a difficult and unsafe choice, but I decided to be faithful to my desire and freedom of choice. I happily abandoned my Instrumentation Engineering and started following my intuition. Now I am able to question inequalities, resist oppression and strive towards change.
What was your childhood in India like?
I was born into a farmer’s family, south of Tamilnadu, in a village called Maharajapuram at the slopes of the Western Ghats of the Virudhunagar district. My late father was a Tamil professor and the first to earn a degree in our family. My mother is a real earthy soul with an unlimited spirit and energy. I went to school in an urban Anglo-Indian Convent where I was strictly scheduled by early morning athletics, eight hours of subject classes, two hours of bharathanatyam (dance), one hour of carnatic music, and weekend hindi classes. However, my body always resonated with my aimless summer life of cattle, pagan gods and goddesses, the occult, Sathuragiri hills, rain-fed rivers, deep wells, cycling, swimming, stealing fruit, and the kittipuli (country games) in my village. A gypsy inside me wakes up the moment I think of my home.
How did your sense of revolution grow out of this environment?
All of the men in our family seemed to be interested in revolution and practiced hard-core left politics. They held district-level, state-level and national-level positions in the Communist Party of India. The women in the household ran the kitchens, cattle and paddy fields to make a living. I guess all my questioning and rebellion started from that point of conflict. The other major issue is India’s caste system. I refused to identify with my family, or any community which directly stamped on me a caste and put me as inferior to some and superior to others. This hierarchical system, which enrolled me for a life I didn’t choose, has made me question my very existence.
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You started your career with several large media companies in India. What was that like? Why did you instead turn to documentary film-making?
In two years during my early twenties, I switched jobs 11 times. I was never loyal to companies. The canonical figures of mainstream cinema were so feudal I did not belong to them as an apprentice; either they spit me out, or I left. But cinema as a tool of expression still captured my imagination. Digital cinema was a democratic, independent space not dictated by the market, and its possibilities enthused me in a way the industry did not. Independent cinema can help someone find their voice; it is also for people who want to be heard. I am perpetually seeking both of these things, so I attached my body to a handy-cam, microphone and mac-book, and started my endless drive toward exposing society’s hidden truths and dark places.

Photo: The Hindu
Your film Parai on caste discrimination, specifically on Dalit women, was cut 19 times by the Indian Censor Board. Could you talk about that experience?
The experience with Parai is intriguing. It was more a movement than a piece of video. Yes, the censor board demanded 19 cuts of a 40-minute film, which I set aside. But the film was also presented to the National Women’s Rights Commission and the National Human Rights Commission. The commissioners were forced to take action against the censorship since they were featured in the film taking petitions from the affected Dalit women. Seventeen oppressors were arrested by the District Collector, and the issue gained momentum. Thousands of copies of the film were made and distributed state-wide for advocacy and awareness programs.
Censorship is an insult to a thriving society and it feels like it’s mutilating my organs. It ceases my being. Religion, State, Caste, Culture, Gender, Language, and every other institution are monstrous agents of censorship. I resist, and that gives me some reason for hope.
Despite the Censor Board’s decision, you managed to screen the film by alternative means in about 200 villages. How did you do it?
I short-circuited myself from the mainstream outlets and travelled to hundreds of villages with a set of DVDs, a player and a projector. I showed films on the white walls of corporation schools, on the loins of villagers and on street corners at night. People were always willing to talk, share and debate over the work; this participatory dialogue is what completes my films. I owe all my understanding of my society and people to my experiences of screening films. Each screening is both a process of learning and unlearning.
Do you have a moral or artistic philosophy toward making and screening your films?
I only choose subjects in which I can also place myself as a subject without any compromise. Dealing with a community is not like dealing with actors. I have to be more responsible and committed to fight until the end. I do this with all of my energy, even when I don’t get anywhere. I do not believe change happens in one night through one film. Change is a long process. This is why I attempt to create a participatory dialogue with my films. I experiment, and sometimes I fail, but the idea is to seek answers collectively. Only when all the elements—the film, its maker and the audience—participate and interact equally, does the film attain its fullest form.

Manimekalai with Sethurakku, a fish hunter, shooting Goddesses .
Despite highlighting the unflattering lives of certain Indian women, your film Goddesses won the Golden Conch at the government-sponsored Mumbai International Film Festival in 2008. However, your most recent film Sengadal, which deals with the plight of Tamil refugees, has been stayed by the Indian Censor Board. Can you explain the structure of censorship in India?
When the Mumbai Film Festival tried to introduce censorship only for Indian entries, independent filmmakers all over the country stirred against the double standards of the Films Division of India, and the festival had to withdraw their regulations. But still the fight continues with the National Awards and the Indian International Film festival. It is a slap in the face of independent Indian Cinema. Making a film is only half the battle; what use is it if it is not seen?
In India a film needs a censor clearance for both telecast and theatre releases. Why is a filmmaker, who has taken up cinema seriously, denied the right to reach a wider audience? Consequently, why is my audience denied their basic right to see a film uncut? It is a scary situation not only for artists but for all citizens of this “democratic” country. Our basic freedoms of expression are at stake.
In addition to the dozen films you’ve self-produced, you have also published several books of poems. How has the public received your written work?
I still consider myself an evolving poet, but my first Tamil poetry anthologyOtraiyilaiyena (As a Single Leaf) has seen three editions so far. On the other hand, my second book, Ulagin Azhagiya Muthal Penn (The First Beautiful Woman in the World), has invited mixed reactions: It received the Iyal Poetry Award for 2009, a call for its banning by some Hindu People’s Party, and repressive attacks by some ultra left fanatics like Makkal Kalai Ilakiya Kazhagam. My third poetry collection Parathaiyarul Raani (Queen of Sluts) has just been released.
Does you poetry also have enemies?
Obviously, my poetry is dangerous to religious and ideologically fanatic minds. Language is my first enemy; its norms, design and usage are controlled by the dominant patriarchy. My language’s linguistic codes are embedded in a culture- and gender-specific socialization that prohibits women from communicating about issues that are considered socially disruptive. In my work, I try to challenge this structure. I stray from every possible institution because none of them have done justice to women in the whole of human history. Poetry is life and not imitation; if this life is dangerous, then let me face it; for me, safety is slavery.

роОродро▒்роХெроЯுрод்родாро▓ுроо் роЗрои்родிроп роЗро▒ைропாрог்рооை - ро╡ிроХроЯрой் роиேро░்роХாрогро▓்.


роОродро▒்роХெроЯுрод்родாро▓ுроо் роЗрои்родிроп роЗро▒ைропாрог்рооை - ро╡ிроХроЯрой் роиேро░்роХாрогро▓்


роЗро░ு роиாроЯுроХро│ிрой் родுрок்рокாроХ்роХிроХро│ுроХ்роХு роЗроЯைропிро▓் роЪிроХ்роХிроХ்роХொрог்роЯு родிройроо்родிройроо் роЙропிро░் рокро▒ிроХ்роХрок்рокроЯுроо் ро░ாрооேро╕்ро╡ро░роо் рооீройро╡ройிрой் ро╡ாро┤்роХ்роХைропை роЕро╡ро░்роХро│ிрой் рооொро┤ிропிро▓் рокேроЪுроХிро▒родு ро▓ீройா роорогிрооேроХро▓ைропிрой் ‘роЪெроЩ்роХроЯро▓்’ родிро░ைрок்рокроЯроо். роЕродро▒்роХு родро░роЪ் роЪாрой்ро▒ிродро┤் родро░рооро▒ுрод்род роЪெрой்роЪாро░் рокோро░்роЯுроЯрой் рокோро░ாроЯி роЯிро░ிрок்рокுройро▓ுроХ்роХு рокோроп் роТро░ு ‘роХроЯ்’роЯுроо் роЗро▓்ро▓ாрооро▓் ро╡ெро▒்ро▒ிропோроЯு родிро░ுроо்рокி ро╡рои்родிро░ுроХ்роХிро▒ாро░் ро▓ீройா.

роЗрои்родрок்рокроЯроо் роЗро▓роЩ்роХை роЗрои்родிропா роЕро░роЪுроХро│ை ро╡ிрооро░்роЪிроХ்роХிро▒родு. роЕродройாро▓் родрогிроХ்роХைроЪ் роЪாрой்ро▒ிродро┤் родро░рооுроЯிропாродு роОрой்ро▒ாро░்роХро│். роЕродை роОродிро░்род்родுрод்родாрой் роЯ்ро░ிрок்рокுройро▓் рокோройேрой். роЗроЩ்роХே роХро╡ிродை роОро┤ுродிройாро▓் роХроЯ்роЪிроХ்роХாро░ро░்роХро│் рокோро▓ீроЪிро▓் рокுроХாро░் родро░ுроХிро▒ாро░்роХро│், роХро░ுрод்родிропро▓் роХுрог்роЯро░்роХро│் роЗрогைропродро│роЩ்роХро│ிро▓் роЕро╡родூро▒ு роЪெроп்роХிро▒ாро░்роХро│். родிро░ைрок்рокроЯ ро╡ிро╖ропрод்родிро▓் роЕродிроХாро░ிроХро│ிроЯроо் роХрод்родிро░ிроХ்роХோро▓் роЗро░ுрои்родுроХொрог்роЯு роЖроЯ்роЯிрок்рокроЯைроХ்роХிро▒родு. роТро░ு роХро▓ைропை роОрок்рокроЯிроЪ் роЪெроп்роп ро╡ேрог்роЯுрооோ роЕрок்рокроЯிрод்родாрой் роЪெроп்роп рооுроЯிропுроо். роЕро░роЪாроЩ்роХрод்родிрой் роХீро┤ேропோ, роХроЯ்роЪிроХ்роХாро░ро░்роХро│ுроХ்роХு роХроЯ்роЯுрок்рокроЯ்роЯோ роХро▓ை роЗропроЩ்роХ рооுроЯிропாродு. роЗродைропே рокிро░роХாро╖்ро░ாроЬ் роЬி.роЬிропாроХ рокோроЯ்роЯு, роЪро░рог்ропாро╡ை ро░ோро╕்рооேро░ிропாроХ рокோроЯ்роЯு роОроЯுрод்родு ро╡ிропாрокாро░ роиோроХ்роХோроЯு рокроЯроо் роОроЯுроХ்роХро▓ாроо். роЗрок்рокோродெро▓்ро▓ாроо் родேроЪிроп ро╡ிро░ுродுроХро│் роХூроЯ ро╡ிропாрокாро░ роЪிройிрооாроХ்роХро│ுроХ்роХு родாрой் родро░ுроХிро▒ாро░்роХро│்.

роОройроХ்роХு роОрок்рокроЯிропுроо் роороХ்роХро│ிроЯроо் роЙрог்рооைропை роХொрог்роЯுрокோроп்роЪ் роЪேро░்роХ்роХрогுроо். ро░ாрооேро╕்ро╡ро░род்родை роЪுрод்родி роОрой்рой роироЯроХ்роХுродுрой்ройு роОро▓்ро▓ோро░ுроХ்роХுроо் родெро│ிро╡ாроХ родெро░ிроЮ்роЪாроХрогுроо். роЗроЩ்роХே ро╡рои்родு роОроЩ்роХே рокாро░்род்родாро▓ுроо் рокுро│்ро│ி ро╡ிро╡ро░роЩ்роХро│்родாрой் роХிроЯைроХ்роХிро▒родு. роЕро╡ைроХро│் роТрой்ро▒ுроХ்роХுроо் роЙродро╡ாродு. родройுро╖்роХோроЯிропை роОроЯுрод்родுроХ்роХொрог்роЯாро▓் роЖропிро░роХ்роХрогроХ்роХாрой родрооிро┤் рооீройро╡ро░்роХро│ை роЗро▓роЩ்роХை ро░ாрогுро╡роо் роХொрой்ро▒ிро░ுроХ்роХிро▒родு. рокродிро╡ு роЪெроп்ропрок்рокроЯாрод роОрог்рогிроХ்роХைропைропுроо் роЪேро░்род்родு родாрой் роЪொро▓்роХிро▒ேрой். роПро░ாро│рооாрой ро╡ிродро╡ைроХро│், родாропை, роЪроХோродро░ிропை, роЪроХோродро░ройை роЗро┤рои்родро╡ро░்роХро│் роЪூро┤ роиிро▒்роХிро▒родு роЕрои்род роКро░். роЙро░ுроЯ்роЯுроХ்роХроЯ்роЯைропிро▓் родாроХ்роХி рооро░்роо роЙро▒ுрок்рокுроХ்роХро│ை роЪிродைрок்рокродிро▓ிро░ுрои்родு роЗрой்ройுроо் роОрог்рогро▒்ро▒ рооройிрод роЙро░ிрооை рооீро▒ро▓்роХро│். роЗрок்рокроЯிрок்рокроЯ்роЯ ро╡ாро┤்роХ்роХைропை рокுро│்ро│ி ро╡ிро╡ро░роЩ்роХро│ிро▓் роЕроЯроХ்роХ рооுроЯிропுрооா? рооீройро╡ро░்роХро│ாроХ роЗро░ுроХ்роХிро▒ роХாро░рогрод்родிройாро▓் роороЯ்роЯுрооே роЕро╡роЩ்роХ роПрой் роХொро▓்ро▓рок்рокроЯройுроо்? роХро░ுрок்рокாроХ роЗро░ுрок்рокродைропுроо், родрооிро┤ிро▓் рокேроЪுро╡родைропுроо் родро╡ிро░ роЕро╡ро░்роХро│் роЪெроп்род роХுро▒்ро▒роо்родாрой் роОрой்рой? роЗрок்рокோродுро╡ро░ைроХ்роХுроо் роЕро╡ро░்роХро│ுроХ்роХு роОрой்рой роиீродிродாрой் роХிроЯைрод்родிро░ுроХ்роХிро▒родு? роЪிройிрооா ро╡ிропாрокாро░ிроХро│் роЪெрой்роЪாро░் роЕродிроХாро░ிроХро│் рокாро░ாроЯ்роЯுрок்рокெро▒்ро▒ рокроЯроо் роОрой ро╡ிро│роо்рокро░роо் роЪெроп்роХிро▒ாро░்роХро│் - роЕро╡ро░்роХро│் роОрой்рой роХро▓ைропுро▓роХிрой் рокிро░родிроиிродிроХро│ா!




роЪெрой்роЪாро░் рокோро░்роЯிрой் рооீродு роХроЯுрооைропாрой роХோрокрод்родிро▓் роЗро░ுроХ்роХிро▒ீро░்роХро│்?

роЪெрой்роЪாро░் рокோро░்роЯு роОрой்ро▒ роТрой்ро▒ு роЗро░ுрок்рокродே роТро░ு роХро▓ைроЮройுроХ்роХு роЕро╡рооாройроо். роКроЯроХ роЪுродрои்родிро░род்родை рокро▓ி роХொроЯுрод்родродройாро▓் родாрой் роЖропிро░роХ்роХрогроХ்роХாрой роороХ்роХро│ைрок் рокோро░ுроХ்роХுрок் рокро▓ிроХொроЯுрод்родு ро╡ிроЯ்роЯு , роЗрок்рокோродு роЪேройро▓் роиாрой்роХு родொро▓ைроХ்роХாроЯ்роЪிропிро▓் роЖро╡рогрок்рокроЯроо் рокாро░்род்родு роЙроЪ்роЪுроХ் роХொроЯ்роЯிроХ் роХொрог்роЯிро░ுроХ்роХிро▒ோроо்.родрогிроХ்роХைропே роЙрог்рооைропை рооро▒ைроХ்роХрод்родாрой் рокропрой்рокроЯுроХிро▒родு. родрогிроХ்роХைропாро│ро░்роХро│் роороХ்роХро│் роЖроЯ்роЪிропிрой் рооுродுроХெро▓ுроо்рокிро▓் роЕроЯிроХ்роХிро▒ாро░்роХро│். роХுроЬро░ாрод்родிро▓் роироЯрои்род роЕроХ்роХிро░роороЩ்роХро│ிрой் роТро░ு роЪிро▒ிроп рокроЩ்роХு роХூроЯ роЗрой்ройுроо் роироо்рооுрой் ро╡ைроХ்роХрок்рокроЯро╡ிро▓்ро▓ை. роорогிрок்рокூро░ிро▓் ро░ாрогுро╡род்родிро▒்роХு роОродிро░ாроХ родாроп்рооாро░்роХро│் родрой் роЖроЯைроХро│ைрод் родுро▒рои்родு рокோро░ாроЯ்роЯроо் роироЯрод்родிройாро░்роХро│். роРро░роо் роЪро░்рооிро│ாро╡ிрой் рокрод்родாрог்роЯுроХро│ுроХ்роХு рооேро▓ாрой роЕро╣ிроо்роЪைрок் рокோро░ாроЯ்роЯрод்родை роОрои்род рооீроЯிропா роХро╡ройрок்рокроЯுрод்родுроХிро▒родு? роХாро╖்рооீро░ிро▓் ро░ாрогுро╡род்родை роороХ்роХро│ே роХро▓்ро▓ெро▒ிрои்родு ро╡ிро░роЯ்роЯுроХிро▒ாро░்роХро│். роЪேройро▓் 4 ро╡ெро│ிропிроЯ்роЯ рокோро░்роХ்роХாроЯ்роЪிроХро│ிро▓், роЗрои்родிропாро╡ிрой் рокроЩ்роХு ро╡ெроЯ்роЯ ро╡ெро│ிроЪ்роЪрооாроХி роЗро░ுроХ்роХிрой்ро▒родு. роЗрои்родிроп роЗро▒ைропாрог்рооை роЗрой்ройுроо் роОродை роОродை рокро▓ி роХேроЯ்роХுрооோ родெро░ிропро╡ிро▓்ро▓ை.

роЪெроЩ்роХроЯро▓் роОрок்рокроЯிропாрой рокроЯрооாроХ роЗро░ுроХ்роХுроо்? роЗро╡்ро╡ро│ро╡ு рокோро░ாроЯ்роЯрод்родிро▒்роХுрок் рокிро▒роХு ро╡ро░ுроо் рокроЯрод்родிро▓் роЙро│்ро│ роЪெроп்родி роОрой்рой?

роОройроХ்роХாроХ роЖройрои்род்рокроЯ்ро╡ро░்родрой் рокேроЪிройாро░். ро╡ро┤роХ்роХро▒ிроЮро░் роЗрои்родிро░ா роЙрой்ройிроиாропро░் роОройроХ்роХாроХ роТро░ு рокைроЪாроХூроЯ ро╡ாроЩ்роХாрооро▓் ро╡ாродாроЯிройாро░். родிро░ிроЪ்роЪூро░் роЪро░்ро╡родேроЪ родிро░ைрок்рокроЯ ро╡ிро┤ாро╡ிро▓் родிро▒рок்рокு ро╡ிро┤ா рокроЯрооாроХрод் родிро░ைропிроЯ்роЯு родрогிроХ்роХைроХ்роХு роОродிро░ாроХ родீро░்рооாройроо் роЗропро▒்ро▒ிройாро░்роХро│். родрогிроХ்роХைроХ்роХு роОродிро░ாрой рооройுро╡ிро▓் роиாроЯு рооுро┤ுро╡родுрооிро▓ிро░ுрои்родு роХро░ுрод்родுроХ் роЪுродрои்родிро░род்родிро▓் роЕроХ்роХро▒ைропுро│்ро│ро╡ро░்роХро│் роХைропро┤ுрод்родிроЯ்роЯройро░் .

роХро▓ைропா, родொро┤ிро▓்роиுроЯ்рокрооா, роЙрог்рооைропா роОрой்ро▒ு ро╡ро░ுроо்рокோродு роиாрой் роЙрог்рооைропைрод்родாрой் родேро░்рои்родெроЯுрод்родேрой். роЙрог்рооைроХ்роХாроХ родொро┤்ро▒்роиுроЯ்рокрод்родை, роХро▓ைропை роЪிро▒ிродு ро╡ிроЯ்роЯுроХ் роХொроЯுрок்рокродு родро╡ро▒ிро▓்ро▓ை роОрой்рокродு роОройродு роХро░ுрод்родு. роЕродройாро▓் роОрой்ройை роЗройрод்родுро░ோроХி роОрой்ро▒ு роХூроЯ роОрой்ройைроЪ் роЪொро▓்ро▓роХ்роХூроЯுроо். роОройроХ்роХு рооொро┤ி родேроЪ, роЗрой роЕрокிрооாройроЩ்роХро│் роХிроЯைропாродு. роЗродிро▓் роХொро▓ைроХாро░ роЕро░роЪாроЩ்роХроЩ்роХро│ிрой் роЕроЪро▓் рооுроХрод்родைроХ் роХாроЯ்роЯிропிро░ுроХ்роХிро▒ேрой். ро╡ிроЯுродро▓ை роЗропроХ்роХроЩ்роХро│ுроо் ро╡ிрооро░்роЪройрод்родிро▒்роХு родрок்рокро╡ிро▓்ро▓ை. роИро┤рок்рокிро░роЪ்роЪிройைропை рооேроЯைроХро│ிро▓் рокேроЪி рокிро┤ைрок்рокு роироЯрод்родுроХிро▒ро╡ро░்роХро│ைропுроо் роЪாроЯிропிро░ுроХ்роХிро▒ேрой். роиாрой் рооுро┤ுродாроХ роороХ்роХро│் рокроХ்роХроо் роороЯ்роЯுрооே роиிрой்ро▒ிро░ுроХ்роХிро▒ேрой். роЗроЩ்роХு роОро▓்ро▓ோро░ுроХ்роХுроо் роОро▓்ро▓ாроо் родெро░ிропுроо். роОродு роиро▓்ро▓родு, роОродு роХெроЯ்роЯродு роОрой родீро░்рооாройிрод்родுрод் родேро░்рои்родெроЯுроХ்роХுроо் рокுрод்родி роороХ்роХро│ுроХ்роХு роЙрог்роЯு. роЕро░роЪாроЩ்роХроо், роороХ்роХро│் роОродைрок் рокாро░்роХ்роХ ро╡ேрог்роЯுроо், роОрой்рой роЪிрои்родிроХ்роХ ро╡ேрог்роЯுроо் роОрой்ро▒ு родீро░்рооாройிрок்рокродро▒்роХு роЗроЩ்роХெрой்рой роХாро▓ройிропாродிроХ்роХрооா роироЯроХ்роХிро▒родு.

роХро░ுрод்родுроХ்роХро│ை роЪாрооро░்род்родிропрооாроХроЪ் роЪொро▓்ро▓ро▓ாрооே роОрой்роХிро▒ாро░்роХро│். роиாрой் ро╡ிропாрокாро░роо் роЪெроп்ропро╡ிро▓்ро▓ை. роЪெроЩ்роХроЯро▓் роЗрои்родிроп роЗро▓роЩ்роХை роЕро░роЪுроХро│ைропுроо், рокродро╡ிроХ்роХாроХ роЖропிро░роХ்роХрогроХ்роХாрой роЙропிро░்роХро│ை рокро▓ிроХொроЯுрод்род ро╡ோроЯ்роЯுроХ்роХроЯ்роЪிроХро│ைропுроо், роЕро░роЪிропро▓்ро╡ாродிроХро│ைропுроо் роХாроЯ்роЯிроХ் роХொроЯுроХ்роХுроо். роЕроЯுрод்род рооாродроо் родிро░ைроХ்роХு ро╡ро░ுроХிро▒ роЗрои்род рокроЯроо் рокோро░ிрой் роЕроЪро▓ாрой рооுроХрод்родை рооுрой் ро╡ைроХ்роХுроо்.

роЕроЯுрод்родு роОрой்рой?
роЕроЯுрод்родு, роХроЯро╡ு роЪீроЯ்роЯு роОрой்рокродு рокроЯрод்родிрой் рокெропро░். ро╖ோрокா роЪроХ்родிродாрой் родிро░ைроХ்роХродை. роЗро▓роЩ்роХை, рокிро░ாрой்ро╕், родாроп்ро▓ாрои்родு, роЗрой்ройுроо் рооூрой்ро▒ு роиாроЯுроХро│ிро▓ுроо் рокроЯрок்рокிроЯிрок்рокு роироЯроХ்роХுроо். роЪро░்ро╡родேроЪ родொро┤ிро▓்роиுроЯ்рок роХுро┤ு роЙроЯрой் роЙродро╡ுроХிро▒родு. ро╡ро░ро▓ாро▒ு роироо்рооை родூро░ роиிрой்ро▒ு роХрог் роХொроЯ்роЯாрооро▓் рокாро░்род்родுроХ்роХொрог்роЯு роиிро▒்роХிро▒родு. роЕродро▒்роХு роЙрог்рооைропாроХ рокродிро╡ு роЪெроп்роп ро╡ேрог்роЯிроп роХроЯрооை роОройроХ்роХு роЗро░ுроХ்роХிро▒родு.

роирой்ро▒ி : роиா.роХродிро░்ро╡ேро▓рой்

Friday, July 1, 2011

родீро░ாроиродி роХро╡ிродைроХро│், роЬூро▓ை 2011


роЕродро▒்роХுрок் рокிро▒роХு,



1.

роЗрои்род роЪெроо்рокோрои்родு  рокро▒ро╡ை роПрой் роОрой் роХூрог்роЯிро▓் ро╡рои்родு рооுроЯ்роЯை ро╡ைрод்родродு
рокாро▓் роЪுро░рок்рокிропாрой роОройроХ்роХு роОрой்рой роЪெроп்ро╡родெрой்ро▒ு родெро░ிропро╡ிро▓்ро▓ை
роЕроХ்роХுро│ிро▓ுроо், родொрок்рокுро│ிро▓ுроо் рооாро▒்ро▒ி рооாро▒்ро▒ி ро╡ைрод்родு роЕроЯை роХாрод்родேрой்.
роХுроЮ்роЪு рокொро░ிрои்родு ро╡ௌро╡ாро▓் рокிро▒рои்родродு
роЕродро▒்роХுрок் рокிро▒роХு 
родро▓ைроХீро┤ாроХ роироЯроХ்роХрод் родொроЯроЩ்роХிройேрой்
роЗро░ро╡ிро▓் роороЯ்роЯுрооே роХрог்роХро│் роТро│ிро░்рои்родрой
родிрой்ро▒ு родுрок்рокிроп роЕрод்родிрок்рокро┤ роХொроЯ்роЯைроХро│ைропுроо், роиாро╡ро▒்рокро┤ ро╡ிродைроХро│ைропுроо்
роОрой் роХாродро▓ро░்роХро│் рокொро▒ுроХ்роХрод் родொроЯроЩ்роХிройாро░்роХро│் 
роХாроЯு роиிро▒ைрод்родродு
родро╡ро│ைроХро│ிрой் роЗроЪை


2.
родройிрооை роиிро░்ро╡ாрогிрод்родிро░ுрои்род роОрой் роХைропிрой்  рокроЩ்роХுройி рооро▓ро░ைрод் 
родிро░ுроЯிроЪ் роЪெрой்ро▒родு роиெро▓்роЪிроЯ்роЯு
роЕродு рокро▒рои்род ро╡ропро▓்роХро│ிро▓் рокропிро░்роХро│் роороЮ்роЪро│் роиிро▒род்родிро▓் ро╡ிро│ைрои்родрой
роороХро░рои்род роЪோро▒ுрог்роЯு рокிро▒рои்род роЙропிро░்роХро│ுроХ்роХு роОро▓்ро▓ாроо்  рооூрой்ро▒ு роХைроХро│் 
роОродிро░்ро╡ுроХро│ுроХ்роХுрок் рокро┤роХிроп роХுро▒ுроХ்роХு роХோроЯுроХро│் роЙро▒ைрои்родுрок் рокோропிрой
роХрогроХ்роХுроХро│் рокொроп்род்родрой
родுро░ோроХிроХро│் роОрой рокாро░்род்род роЗроЯрод்родிро▓் роиெро▓் роЪிроЯ்роЯுроХро│ைроЪ் роЪுроЯ
роЙрод்родро░ро╡ுроХро│் рокிро▒рок்рокிроХ்роХрок்рокроЯ்роЯрой
роЕродро▒்роХுрок் рокிро▒роХு роЪெроЯிроХро│் рокூроХ்роХро╡ே роЗро▓்ро▓ை 


3.
роиாрой் роЗроЯро▓ை рооро░роо்
роОрой் рокроЪிроп роЗро▓ைроХро│் роХாро▒்ро▒роЪைро╡ிро▒்роХே рокро▒்ро▒ிроХ் роХொро│்ро│ுроо்.

роОро░ிропுроо்рокோродெро▓்ро▓ாроо் 
ро╡ாроХைропிрой் роЪெрои்роиிро▒рок் рокூроХ்роХро│ெройрок் рокро▒ிроХ்роХрок் рокோроп் роЪுроЯ்роЯுроХ் роХொро│்роХிро▒ாроп் 

роЙрой் родீрок் рокுрог்роХро│ை роЕро▒ுро╡ாроЯெрой роиிройைрод்родு роХூроЯроЯைропுроо் родேройீроХ்роХро│்

роЗро▓ைропுродிро░் роХாро▓род்родிро▓் родேрой் рокிро┤ிрои்родுрок் рокро░ுроХрод் родро░ுро╡ாроп்
рокுрогро░்ро╡ாроп்
роЕродро▒்роХுрок் рокிро▒роХு
роЕроХро▓ рооро▒ுроХ்роХுроо் роХுро▒ிропை роЕрогிро▓ாроХ роорои்родிро░ிрод்родு 
роОрой்ройிроЯрооே ро╡ிроЯ்роЯுроЪ்роЪெро▓்ро╡ாроп் 

ро╡ро░ிроХро│ோроЯி роЕрогிро▓் родுро│ைроХро│ிроЯ்роЯ роОрой் роХுро░ுрод்родை
роЗроЯைроЪ்роЪி роТро░ுрод்родி родிройрои்родோро▒ுроо்
роХுро┤ро▓ூродி роЗроЪைрод்родுроЪ் роЪெро▓்роХிро▒ாро│்
роЙройроХ்роХு роОрок்рокроЯிроЪ் роЪொро▓்ро╡родு
роЕро╡ро│் родாрой் роОрой் рокுродிроп роХாродро▓ிропெрой்ро▒ு  

ро▓ீройா роорогிрооேроХро▓ை