Here it is!!!!

A Kuchipudi dance drama performed by students of Kuchipudi Kalakshetra [www.kuchipudikalakshetra.com] on Feb 10, 2007, stole the hearts of hall overflowing audience. The thunderous claps at the end of each act, and the standing ovation at the conclusion is one of a kind I have ever experienced in this part of the world for an art from the opposite part.

As an unspoken Indian tradition, the program that was supposed to begin at 5.30 p.m. had not yet started till 6.30. Overhearing a performer’s parent that the length of the program will consume well over 3 hours started throbbing my temples. I have not been very comfortable of Garland downtown or driving in the dark.  Since this is the first time I was taking my daughter to an Indian dance performance, I was at Garland’s Granville Arts Center at 5.00pm, to provide her an opportunity to mingle with performers backstage. Seeing these kids blow gum with the traditional costumes of a divine art made my heart cringe. My ever accompanying friend, Sowmya’s absence made it even worse. To sum it up, by 6.15, I had decided to leave in an hour.

In the dark, suddenly, there it was, when I least expected it, closing my eyes to ease my headache.  Asha Nairs voice going over Maha Ganapathi. I have to make it clear here, my daughter has been taking Carnatic voice lessons to appease me. Listening to the music with her on my lap, made us both drifth to the ether [no exaggeration]. My headache was beginning to dissolve.

The program began with an invocation to Ganesha [pollaiyaar, kollakattai as my daughter wud say ] with Vakratunda Mahakaya. It was obvious the dancers were Students, not Masters. But, being in this country for over 9 years, I duly  appreciate all of these kids’, their parents’ and Guru’s hours of practice, patience, and attitude to perfect a not so easy art with limited resources. My daughter was enthralled. All the brightly colored silk saris, sparkling jewels, makeup [I have to mention, was wonderful unlike some performers who use rouge like a clown’s face]. Their Shelangai sound in unison, Wow!!! Sanju & I were picking out our favorite apparels [forgive the amatuer critics that we are]. I was explaining how these dancers are pretending to do puja by pretending to pick flowers, tossing on God’s Murti, aarti etc. By the end of the evening, she started getting the idea of pretense in dance dramas… hooray!

Next dance was Murugan Kautvam, there was Senthamizh song in the air, and I was glad not to miss out the connotation of the song. In earlier days, South Indian artists learnt all regional languages to perfect their output. Following that was a dance sequence for Pundit Ravi Shankar’s Tarana. As soon as I heard Ravi Shankar, I started applauding distinctly in the audience, reminding me of my school days. It was ensued by Raravenu Gopabala. Awesome, in a nut shell.

Finally, Menaka Viswamitra was enacted in 3 acts, Indra’s Court, Forest and Tapas Impedence. All the scenes were done by Professionals. Menaka was performed by the school’s director  - Ms. Padma Sonti. Seeing her dance reminded of CM Ms. J. Jayalalitha in black and white movies. Similarly developed face communicated well without spoken words.

The stage settings were done greatly for temple, forest, Indra’s court, et cetera. Considering the efforts to bring them from a faraway country, hats off to  Kuchipudi Kalakshetra.

Conclusion:

1. $10 well spent.

2. Look forward to future events from this school.

Regrets:

Wish I could have stayed longer to take pictures with Menaka and Viswamitra per my daughter’s wish, but it was too late, that too in Garland Downtown, Yikes.

This book, written by Yann Martel, has won many literary awards, including the Booker Prize. Yann Martel is a Canadian traveler who has visited India a couple of times. I read the book as a substitute to "Looming Towers," which I have reserved as the 31rst person in Plano Public Library at this point.

Contrary to my intuition, and people who are planning to read this might want to stop precisely at this point, Pi is the name of the main Character. He defines faith, belief, love, and strength. Most importantly, describes God, accurately.  This person is from India, the sacred land that gave birth to me.  There are so many instances I could recognize with Pi. His acceptance of all religions and curiousity towards spirituallty is all a part of establishing individuality during the Teen years.

The greatest gift of believing in God / divine power is just that: Belief.

Without faith and belief, nothing can be accomplished.

An Excerpt:

I must say a word about fear. It is life’s only true opponent. Only fear can defeat life. It is a clever, treacherous adversary, how well I know. It has no decency, respects no law or convention, shows no mercy. It goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unerring ease. It begins in your mind, always. One moment you are feeling calm, slef-possessed, happy. Then fear, disguised in the garb of mild-mannered doubt, slips into your mind like a spy.  Doubt meets disbelief and disbelief tries to push it out. But disbelief is a poorly armed foot soldier. Doubt does away with it with little trouble. You becom anxious. Reason comes to do battle for you. You are reassured. Reason is fully equipped with the latest weapons technology. But, to your amazement, despite superior tactics, and a number of undeniable victories, reason is laid low. You feel yourself weakening, wavering. Your anxiety becomes dread…

…Quickly you make rash decisions. You dismiss your last allies: hope and trust. There, you’ve defeated yourself. Fear, which is but an impression, has triumphed over you.

The matter is difficult to put into words. For fear, real fear, such as shakes you to your foundation, such as you you feel when you are brought face to face with your mortal end, nestles in your memory like a gangrene: it seeks to rot everything, even the words with which to speak of it. So you might fight hard to express it. You must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it. Because, if you don’t, if your fear becomes a wordless darkenss that you avoid, perhaps even manage to forget, you open yourself to further attacks of fear because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.

While reading this, I was mildly reminded of my fav Tom Hanks performance in Castaway. However, it was evident once again that the pen is mightier than the silver-screen and, Spielberg’s direction.

It has been alleged that this work is Plagiarized. I care not, as long as it serves my purpose.