Umesh Babu, Viswadarsanam
Having grown impatient with my cultural edification being limited to the melange of themed, Time Out-voted and Zagat-vetted restaurants London has on offer, I began to anticipate an excursion that would pique more than the palate. It may have been a subconscious act of amelioration that drew me to India, for the joys she offers are matched only by her challenges.
Kerala held for me all of the mystique, minus the daunting experience northern India had been on my first visit to the subcontinent, and so there began my search. Some frantic Googling (Is there another sort?) later, I felt I had found the perfect oasis. Called Viswadarsanam it described itself as a centre for humanity and nature. Wary of the spate of retreats and ashrams that touted the holistic experience - acquired mostly by replacing one’s habitual sanyas with their brand of sanyas - I was gladdened by the knowledge that Viswadarsanam had been running for two decades. Its inception coincided with a time when people were swapping television sets for sunsets, convincing the pessimist in me that that it was the real thing.
Out of its anomalous beginnings, Viswadarsanam has played a pivotal role in dissemination of environmental awareness and community education in the Pathanamthitta district, and beyond. By the time Umesh Babu established the centre in 1987, he had had his first taste as of using the media to educate the masses as a journalist. Later, he expanded his skill set to work as an advertising executive. It was his work in sales and marketing for a pesticides company that awakened him to the fact that the short-range benefits of chemicals in agriculture were outweighed by their longer-term negative impacts on the ecosystem. Viswadarsanam comprises of two Sanskrit words, viswa and darsanam, meaning ‘global’ and ‘vision’, respectively.
After convincing a cousin from Australia, Avi, that the introspective path he’d been seeking of late meandered through India as well, I met him in Trivandrum. Umesh received us warmly at the airport, and we set off for the two-hour car ride from Trivandrum to Viswadarsanam in sleepy Nariyapuram. Arriving at the centre late in the night, our first impression of Viswadarsanam was of pristine isolation. We were enthused by the purity of the air and serenity of our new surroundings, Avi to the point that he chastised me on my stash of adulterating shampoos and lotions. In my defence, only those that have suffered know the debilitating effect of incorrigible bed hair.
Mornings at the centre started early to an avian orchestra and sweet milky tea, both of which were instrumental in fortifying us throughout the day. Volunteers at Viswadarsanam are encouraged to begin their mornings with physical activity and, if they’re inclined, in meditation. Dotted around the one and a half acres on which Viswadarsanam extends are signs that commemorate Umesh’s nature initiatives. An old wheel from the bullock cart he rode throughout the Pathanamthitta district for a month in 1988, raising environmental awareness in rural life at numerous colleges and public places, remains full of symbolism in the serene gardens. This particular initiative was selected by the National Environment Awareness Campaign as one of the outstanding campaigns conducted that year in all of India. A conservation plaque also takes pride of place in the compound, an exact replica of one constructed in the Museum Gardens in Trivandrum on Earth Day, 22nd April, in 1991 as another Viswadarsanam initiative. My favourite feature was a six-foot tall stone sculpture representing Mother Earth cradling what doubled as a birdbath. It was made and gifted by a local stonemason.
I took to refilling the birdbath, clearing up along the nature trail or raking the open-air speaking arena for my morning contemplations before a delicious ayurvedic breakfast, such as idli and sambar. No two meals were alike during my one-week stay such was the culinary repertoire of Umesh’s wife, Janee. One of the volunteers, Andrea, who’d arrived three weeks before us joked that we might have to put in a special request for a dish if we wanted it again during our short stay, and she wasn’t far from the truth. Not that I could choose a favourite when I thought all of Janee’s dishes were runaway successes.
The main water source at the centre is a well, from which all drinking and washing water is drawn with a pump. Our initial reaction to drinking the untreated well water was, “So, you boil it, right?” a question to which Umesh seemed familiar, and informed us that it hadn’t. “Not even filtered?” we ask in alarm, mentally checking for symptoms of all possible water-borne diseases known to mankind. This question too answered with an amused negative waggle of Umesh’s head - not that dissimilar to the affirmative waggle of the head that you eventually learn to decipher in India – and the reassurance that we were perfectly safe. We had to admit the water was tastier and fresher than bottled water.
The electricity supply in Pathanamthitta is intermittent, a common occurrence in many parts of India, and regrettably, supplemented with dirty diesel generators by small business owners. Viswadarsanam’s modest need for electricity can easily be met with solar power; however, the initial outlay for solar panelling is beyond the centre’s means at present. Another mounting concern we learnt about is the lack of recycling provisions or waste collection in the state of Kerala. Oxymoronic as it sounds, the rationale was the latter was not feasible in such a densely populated region. Hence, the lush green Kerala landscape is increasingly blighted with inorganic litter.
Close to the centre are many small towns, and the main district town of Pathanamthitta, where we surrendered ourselves to ayurvedic kiri massages and steam baths for three consecutive days. Nature and river treks, an elephant reserve, and various temples are easily accessible, and trips to these arranged for Viswadarsanam volunteers to suit their preferences. Boat trips along the Keralan backwaters leave from Kollam, an hour’s drive from Viswadarsanam.
Viswadarsanam was a hive of activity during our stay, bustling especially with the construction of a new eco-hut. The walls of these structures are made of mud bricks, which keep the house cool in the heat of the day and warm in the cold season. The mud bricks are made at local kilns, contributing to local industry. All attempts were made to use local and recycled materials during the construction. One of the regular visitors to the centre was the Friendly Recycling Lady who collected newspapers, glass and plastic materials that she sold on to local businesses that had some method of recycling them. She spoke rapid-fire Malayalam to us and grinned wider at our uncomprehending grins. The local nonagenarian made quite an impression on us when he approached us smiling toothless one day and then proceeded to write his age on the ground with his walking stick to impress upon us his seniority. Then he posed for our cameras like a seasoned model.
The eco-hut was scheduled for completion on Earth Day, 22nd April, which also marked the start of Umesh’s new environmental campaign, Greening the MindTM. On the same day fifteen years ago Viswadarsanam had been the origin of the Silent Valley Cycle Trail to expound Umesh’s Travel Without Fuel programme. His team cycled five hundred kilometres promoting cycling as an environmentally friendly method of travel in six districts in the state. Umesh has been an active advocate for protection of the environment and sustainable living, holding many workshops at Viswadarsanam for school and college students, district officers and the interested public. He duly received accolades at the World Environment Conference in New Delhi in 1997, and his efforts have been repeatedly recognised by the media.
As a small contribution to the Greening The MindTM campaign, I designed a simple calico backpack with the Reduce Reuse Recycle message in mind that the campaign was promoting. A protracted and futile struggle with Janee’s old Singer later, I hand-stitched a prototype for show-and-tell at dinner, and later for the amusement of a neat-looking tailor in the nearby town. We planned to give visiting school children a bag each and hoped to discourage the habit of littering in public areas by encouraging them to keep litter in these bags until they could dispose of them properly, preferably by recycling. Washing and reusing the bag would reduce the use of plastic bags, too. The raw materials, stitching and logo printing of the bag locally was estimated at seventy rupees per bag1. The running of Viswadarsanam depends on donations from volunteers like us; occasional government grants; and rare still, benevolent sponsors. Due to a recent bout of poor health and mild glaucoma Umesh recognises the need for extra help running the centre, and proposes to get the local school children involved through apprenticeships offered during their school holidays providing them vocational guidance, and tutoring them on ecology and biodiversity.
In the span of a week I had made myself quite at home at the centre, owing to the hospitality of Umesh and Janee. On our last night at the centre, Avi and I spent some time with Umesh reminiscing over our brief but memorable stay there. As he told us animatedly of his aspiration to make Viswadarsanam a natural commune that transcended geography and existed rather as attitudes amongst people globally, I couldn’t help thinking how infectious his enthusiasm was. Suddenly a crusade to save the planet did not seem like such a lofty idea.
« return.