WORD.WORLD.WISDOM
The Culture of India—A Tribute
S P A R K
OCTOBER 2011
OCTOBER 2011 05 October 2011
INDIAN CULTURE
Dear Reader,
CONTRIBUTORS:
The culture of India no doubt is the nation’s pride in many ways. Spark’s October 2011 issue explores the Indian culture from various aspects—performing arts, architecture, archaeology, mythology, literature and traditions.
AMRITA SARKAR
Apart from our usual dose of fiction, non-fiction, art, photography and poetry, we are proud to feature some wonderful interviews and special columns this month.
NILESH J.BHANGE
Hope you enjoy the issue. Do not forget to let us know what you think. Mail us at feedback@sparkthemagazine.com or leave a comment at www.sparkthemagazine.com.
ANUPAMA KRISHNAKUMAR JAI CHABRIA MAHESWARAN SATHIAMOORTHY
PARTH PANDYA SHREYA RAMACHANDRAN VANI VISWANATHAN VARSHA SREENIVASAN YAYAATI JOSHI
Goodbye till we see you again. Happy Diwali! Best wishes,
VOICES OF THE MONTH:
Spark Editorial Team
DEVDUTT PATTANAIK LAKSHMI SHARATH RADHIKA PRABHU SIVASANKARI CHANDRASEKARAN VIJAYENDRA MOHANTY
CONCEPT, EDITING, DESIGN: ANUPAMA KRISHNAKUMAR VANI VISWANATHAN
samindu
dey
Google images
THE CULTURE OF INDIA—A TRIBUTE
The Ordinary Extra-Indian by Jai Chabria Feces, Flatulence and Fornication by Yayaati Joshi Will the ’Lotus-Giver’ Bloom Again? by Varsha Sreenivasan
POETRY Fade Away by Parth Pandya
PHOTOGRAPHY The Spirit of Indian Tradition by Nilesh J.Bhange
FICTION Swaram, Nrityam Sangamam by Anupama Krishnakumar Arrangements by Shreya Ramachandran
ART Love in its Purest Form by Amrita Sarkar The Magic of Tanjore Temple by Maheswaran Sathiamoorthy
VOICES OF THE MONTH—INTERVIEWS Dr.Devdutt Pattanaik Sivasankari Chandrasekaran Vijayendra Mohanty
VOICES OF THE MONTH—SPECIAL COLUMNS Lakshmi Sharath Radhika Prabhu
Inside this issue of spark
NON-FICTION
Love in its Purest Form
KRISHNA AND RUKMINI
Art by Amrita Sarkar
Swaram, Nrityam Sangamam - Passionate Journeys
Anupama Krishnakumar
FICTION—MUSIC & DANCE
Subadhra turns to classical music to chase away the monotony that has gripped her life. In the process, she brings meaning to the lives of people close to her. Here’s a story by Anupama Krishnakumar that is sure to leave you savouring the musical ambience that it brings.
SWARAM, NRITYAM SANGAMAM—PASSIONATE JOURNEYS I was visiting the Srinivasans after nearly six years. This time it was not Tanjore like it had always been before. Six years had seen immense change in between. Periappa and Periamma had moved to Chidambaram only six months prior to my visit. Twists and turns had routed themselves into our lives, quite in unsought ways. Working as a project manager for a top notch IT firm definitely presents a picture of great well-being both financially and personally. But, what it costs to get to that picture is a sad story. As much aggressive as one can get with facing tough challenges, the human spirit of an ordinary individual (like me) does wear out and starts seeking succour from soothing elements. As in the case of many of us, I have by all means turned to one preferred saviour all these years – Music. I ought to thank that one particular cassette that I dusted out of my broken cassette cupboard, one fine day. (One ought not to be surprised hearing about the dilapidated state of the poor cupboard and the cassettes within, given that everything is packed into CDs and Ipods these days). Music lovers would indeed agree if I said that we sometimes get a certain, sudden and powerful urge to listen to a particular song. It was a similar state of mind that drove me to the cupboard that day. I wanted to listen to the unmatchable legend, MS. Small events often set the stage for larger ones, in the most unexpected ways. The mind that sought some relaxation directed my fingers to wind the tape to reach one of MS’s most beautiful renderings – Kurai Ondrum Illai, composed by Rajaji and sung in Ragamalika. As I closed my eyes, it felt like the magical voice was flooding my veins and was rushing up to my brain. Rewind, play – rewind, play – rewind, play. The more I heard the song, the more I wanted to demystify the magic behind that powerful art and the medium - her divine voice. How could it bring so much relief to a tired mind? What would it feel like to be the one, actually causing that change to a distressed soul? It was then I decided to pack my bags. Amma was pleased to hear that I wanted to cut a week long trip to Chidambaram. “May be, it would be a welcome break for Periamma as well,” she held. “I just hope so,” I shrugged. When I landed in Chidambaram, Periappa demonstrated little more of life compared to his wife. Revathi Srinivasan seemed a picture that would evoke pity even in the most cruel of minds. She appeared to have lost her direction in life. Would I in some way help her in finding her bearings again? Would I be able to add some music to her life?
FICTION BY ANUPAMA KRISHNAKUMAR Tough call. But, it was definitely worth a try. My cousin, and their only son, Raghu’s photograph, heavily framed, hung from the wall facing the entrance. A huge garland accompanied it. Fate had really played with their lives. Working in the U.S., Raghu had died in a horrifying road accident, a year before, just a few weeks before his engagement. Periamma burst into tears, as I stood rooted to the spot, staring at the bright, young face that now belonged to a passive photograph and not to a being brimming with life. I was left with nothing to do but wonder about the triviality of human life. Periamma soon disappeared into the kitchen to fetch something to eat, when Periappa began to talk in a low voice. “She has never been the same, since that day.” I nodded. “She hasn’t touched the Thanpura in ages,” I followed his eyes to land them on the Thanpura that lay aimlessly in a corner. I couldn’t help being reminded of a picture from older, happier days - Periamma sitting in the balcony, when the tender rays of the morning sun touched the earth. Her fingers would gently rub the strings of the gracefully slanted Thanpura. She would rest her head against the instrument, eyes closed as her mouth rendered soulful music. The notes Sa Pa Sa from the Thanpura and her voice would flood the room. When Periamma came back from the kitchen with a cup of coffee, I prepared myself to put forth my request. “Periamma,” I said, “I want to get back to learning music again. Would you initiate me into it?” As expected, there was silence. I decided it was best not to press further. I had learnt carnatic music (with not so much zeal then, I must admit) till when I was in college. But I, despite the possibility of avoiding such a move, reasoned the importance of shifting priorities and jumped completely into my career. Since then, singing became a forgotten story. Recent happenings at work (and that being no room for an escape into peace), however, rekindled my interests towards learning music. A whole day passed without even a mention of the word music. The Srinivasans listened as I told them stories of how things were so different, the moment you stepped into your work place.
SWARAM, NRITYAM SANGAMAM—PASSIONATE JOURNEYS
The following morning, I stood before the Thanpura, admiring its fineness. How could four strings depict the base of an entire system of art? I plucked them, one after the other. The Thanpura had obviously tuned out of Sruti, owing to its long time unused state. The urge to sing was getting on me and I decided to go ahead. I sat down in the huge puja room and began, quite hesitantly, with one of my favourites – Krishna Nee Beganey, in Yaman Kalyani. Jitters, in the voice, with the words, the Sruti, Sangathi and what not! “So, how long has it been? Your voice just doesn’t seem to be cooperating,” I almost jumped, when I heard Periamma’s voice behind. Better still, she was standing with the Thanpura in her hand. I simpered, like an idiot. “Quite a sad picture, I know,” I said. Periamma was meanwhile busy aligning the strings to Sruti. In a moment, she was sitting next to me. She stared vacantly into the space ahead and at the framed picture of the Musical Trinity in the puja room. She positioned the Thanpura in its traditional way and her fingers began their journeys towards Divinity. She threw a glance at me and began an Alaap in
Yaman Kalyani. The mellifluous voice that emanated from her slowly spread its wings to glide all over the room. Suddenly, it felt like some force was sponging out all pressures and fears from within. While I sat engrossed in the absorbing raga, Periamma slid smoothly into the Pallavi of Krishna Nee Beganey. Had it been a year since she sang? I couldn’t believe it. Periappa didn’t stir out of his seat and when we met after the song, we had tears in our eyes. The theory of music has always remained a great passion for me. How could a swara change the very nature of a raga that it starts sounding totally different? And on the other hand, it’s amazing how beautifully we can slide from Paavana Guru to Sreenivasa Thiruvengada almost effortlessly, just because they are both sung in the raga Hamsanandhi! That evening Periamma mentioned about a young woman next door. If there was one thing that she ever spoke of since my arrival, it was her – Nandini Parthasarathy. “A young woman, may be in her late twenties, a Bharatanatyam dancer,” she briefed.
The next evening, I was knocking at Nandini’s door. A woman with a striking face welcomed me in. “Hello, I am Subadhra, your neighbour’s niece,” I introduced myself. She smiled, “Come in.” “So you,” she paused, “were responsible for the beautiful voice I got to hear today morning,” she asked,. “Well, yes and no,” I said, “Yes, because I was the one who kind of got the voice to sing , and no, because, I wasn’t the one who sang!” She laughed, and yes, very cutely that I couldn’t help smiling. “I had the privilege to listen to her today morning,” I said.
THAYE YASHODA…. “So did I,” she added. That particular morning had begun with me wanting to learn a new song. “Thaye Yashoda,” proposed Periappa. I cajoled a reluctant Periamma to teach me the song. After a long session of please please please – she began. “Thaye Yashoda undhan aayar kula thudhitha..” “Hmm..sing after me,” she said. But Thodi had already left me enthralled, for me to even open my mouth. I realized there is sometimes so much pleasure in line, when you remain a complete rasika. “Periamma, I would love to be a listener for this week,” and she smiled, for the first time since I had
arrived. “Maayan Gopalakrishnan seyyum jaalathai keladi, Thaaye Yashoda..” Nandini told me she was there to attend the annual Natiya Thiruvizha (Dance Festival) and was staying with her uncle's family. A student of Kalakshetra, she had been learning dance from a young age of four. She had chosen Chidambaram to pursue primary research related to a Natiya Natakam, a dance drama she was choreographing. Nandini fascinated me, for the fact that she belonged to my generation and the life that she had chosen to live was so different from mine. “Are you married?” she asked me suddenly. “Yes,” I replied, taken by surprise, “fairly recently,
THAYE YASHODA…. why?” “No, I just asked,” she replied. “Are you?” I posed the question back to her. “No. I don’t intend to either.” “Really, but why?” I raised my eyebrows. She wanted to devote herself to the art, she said. She was married to dance, so she believed. I smiled back, for I had no words. I had hesitantly asked Nandini whether she would mind me dropping into her place, when I felt like. “It’s only for a few more days,” I assured her as she watched me with laughing eyes. “You silly girl,” I felt I saw her eyes talking thus. “Come on, Subadhra, anytime.”
SWARAM, NRITYAM SANGAMAM—PASSIONATE JOURNEYS “Thanks,” I mumbled. I was back at her place the next afternoon. “I want to ask you for something today,” I said, walking in with a request in hand. “And, what’s that?” “Can I get to see your dancing prowess today?” I put forth. She began laughing again. “Sure, why not?” She switched on the tape and began a performance, a stellar one at that, for “Enna thavam Sedhanai, Yashoda..” The bhavana on her face left me speechless and her mudras, were poetry in themselves. A pleasure in addressing Yashoda, mixed with envy for the lucky mother, was so absorbingly apparent in her eyes. I was fascinated, simply I was. For, what is it but providence that had made me listen to the same song being sung by Periamma in the morning? When I had watched her sing, I was a witness to what one would call matchless involvement. She had closed her eyes and her fingers moved over the Thanpura carelessly but precisely and I knew she was oblivious to what was going on around her. She was no longer singing for Subadhra, or for her husband or for her own self. It was for the Master. “Uralil katti, vai pothi, kenja vaithai kannanai..” she sang and in her rendering of “kenja..” I saw the Lord begging His mother to free Him. May be she saw it too for the voice throbbed with utmost passion. And here I was, watching Nandini summoning the same emotions with such ardent reverence. I was struck by the devotion of two performing women towards their respective arts which they considered no different from the ultimate Master. In doing so, they were also helping spectators, rasikas like me, see what they saw. In Nandini’s words, “Dance (or any art), is a constant effort to feel one with the Divine. It no longer remains a performance to please the audience, but for the Lord Himself,” she said.
Delbra
FICTION BY ANUPAMA KRISHNAKUMAR Wasn’t MS great because of this? I told Nandini that I was curious to know about her present project – the Natya Natakam. “That, “she began, “is an effort to touch upon the Navarasas – the nine human emotions.” “I intend to divide the play into nine parts, one belonging to each of the rasas – ranging from Karuna (compassion) to Hasya (Humour) to Shanta (Peace). Each part will exclusively deal with portraying each of these emotions to their greatest depths.” “How’s it coming along?” I asked her. “Quite fine, but I am presently focusing on getting to know ragas that best go with a particular emotion and getting to may be composing pieces for the dance, or selecting songs from that particular raga,” she explained. “For example,” I continued. “Hmm..for example, let’s take the Karuna rasa,” she paused, “a raga like Sahana would beautifully convey the emotion.” “I think I can help,” I said. “You can work together with my aunt.” “But we got to speak to her first,” I added. I got Periamma to agree to help Nandini. “Please..she is my friend,” I told her. “Ok, ok, get her home,” said Periamma. Periappa was thrilled. His wife was getting better. The day I was leaving, I proposed a joint performance from Revathi Srinivasan and Nandini Parthasarathy. Nandini almost jumped to say a Yes. Periamma, was her usual composed self – but she said yes too. I took the privilege of selecting the song. “Vandanamu Raghunandana, in Sahana,” I proposed eagerly. By the end of the performance I was left with a wonderful fulfilment. I had landed with a different intention and it never went the way I had planned. Well, all that mattered was I made someone happy and in the end, I was happy myself. It so happens that our ways forward in our lives is determined by one’s own perception of events that occur around us or essentially what meanings we can derive out of them. We could compare this to watching a cloud. When only plainly stares at it, it would probably make no sense. But, take an effort and watch it closely and soon, we start seeing meaningful shapes. Events are like passing clouds and what we make out of them is like observing some sense from those obscure shapes. Reasoning sometime helps. My trip helped me get some perspective with my life. There is so much to do with it. May be I had to get serious about some music classes. I hope Periamma found a direction too. I hope she found some meaning to her life from that string of small events, in a week. I hope there is now, a ray of hope.
Pics courtesy : Google Images
INTERVIEW BY VARSHA SREENIVASAN
INDIAN THOUGHT CAN HELP THE WORLD RETHINK ITS CIVILISATION STRATEGY
DR.DEVDUTT PATTANAIK
INTERVIEW/MYTHOLOGY
Dr. Devdutt Pattanaik is a medical doctor by education. Mythology is his passion. He is the author of many popular books including, ‘Myth = Mithya : A Handbook of Indian Mythology’, ‘Book of Ram’, ‘Jaya : An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata’, ’99 Thoughts on Ganesha’ and ‘7 Secrets from Hindu Calendar Art’. His columns also appear in different magazines and newspapers.
Dr. Devdutt Pattanaik is trained in medicine but is currently the Chief Belief Officer at Future Group. But that is not what most believe is his trump card. He has not only chosen a rare hobby but has also devoted his career to his hobby for the last 15 years. Meet Dr. Devdutt Pattanaik, Mythologist. In an interview to Varsha Sreenivasan, he talks about Indian culture, Hindu Mythology and western mythic thinking.
VOICES OF THE MONTH
AN INTERVIEW WITH DR. DEVDUTT PATTANAIK 1. How would you define Indian culture and what do you feel are the most crucial factors sustaining it? Indian culture is a culture that values rebirth and subjective thinking, hence diversity. It is sustained by our diversity. And it sustains our diversity. 2. Mythology is ingrained into the very psyche of the Indian people. How do you think India differs in its cultural beliefs from countries like Greece and Egypt? Mythology is ingrained in every human being’s psyche. Americans are as ingrained in Mythology as are Europeans and Africans. Indian thought is unique as it is governed by principles of rebirth. Rest of the world believes that we live only once; this is the only chance. 3. Do you believe India's defining factor, 'Indian-ness', has undergone change since independence? If so, how do you think it has changed? Yes, we are trying to get more and more westernised, by which I mean we are thinking one-life, and hence linear rather than rebirth and cyclical. We want all things to happen in one lifetime, before our eyes. This sense of urgency has created a missionary zeal that never existed in India.
INTERVIEW/MYTHOLOGY
4. Which mythological stories do you feel have defined the very foundation of Indian culture and beliefs and sustained it? Can you give some instances of how an Indian applies these beliefs sub-consciously in his everyday life? Ramayana and Mahabharata are the key stories that have sustained Indian society. These two epics tell the story of the same God over two lifetimes. In one, God follows rules. In another, God breaks rules. So, as Indians, we are never sure when to follow rules and when to break rules. This doubt manifests in the famous Indian headshake from side to side. We think contextually and subjectively, unlike objective compliance driven cultures of the West and the East. 5. Like you pointed out, the Indian cultural context values subjective thinking and the rebirth philosophy. The west values objective goaloriented thinking and believes in a linear one-life model. Do you believe that being rooted in such a cultural context helps Indians deal better with stress than their western counterparts? Every cultural system has cost and benefit so there is nothing better or worse about them. Indian cultural systems seek to teach faith and patience but it comes at the price of material obsession. The western linear thinking took us to the moon and gave us world wars. 6. If you feel Indian values are getting eroded resulting in the increased susceptibility of Indians to stress, what do you feel we can change as a country or initiate to make a difference? Values are not static. They keep changing over time. Practices of Vedic India are very different from practices of Buddhist India, which in turn were very different from practices of Mughal India.
BY VARSHA SREENIVASAN
AN INTERVIEW WITH DR. DEVDUTT PATTANAIK As a country, schools and colleges teach the educated class to be either embarrassed by India (left wing ideologies) or chauvinistic about India (right wing ideologies). Both these are driven by the quest to be ‘objective’ and ‘scientific’ which is the very opposite of traditional Indian thought that celebrates subjectivity, pluralism and diversity. 7. We are continually seeing the rise and fall of great economies in the western world. Somehow, India stands robust in the face of different types of adversities. What do you feel Indian companies should do to bank on the strength and resilience of Indian-ness? Western economies are based on material growth. Both capitalism and communism (even socialism) assume that wealth is the solution to life’s problems. They do not bother about intellectual and emotional growth. India is becoming increasingly the same. But as it always happens, Western wealth theories are being challenged and people are seeking answers elsewhere. Indian thought is poised to help the world rethink its civilisation strategy.
9. Since it is becoming increasingly clear that the core strength and power source of the Indian people lies in their beliefs and the learning from their mythology, would you like to suggest a method to work it into the blueprint of our formal education system to inspire and sustain future generations? Not just Indian, this is true for people all over the world. We have since the 17th century ignored subjective truth and focused on objective truth (science) and are paying the price for it. Indian mythology explicitly celebrates subjective truth. The others don’t. That is the only difference. I have no blueprint. Future generations are very much capable of surviving without my help. This ‘doom’ scenario is classical western linear mythic thinking that seems to be afflicting many people who have lost touch with Indian mythic thinking. 10. Would you like to share any plans you have for the near future, or any activity you are currently involved in which will help readers identify with and give a perspective on your work? I invite everyone to visit/share devdutt.com
Pics : Google Images
BY VARSHA SREENIVASAN
INTERVIEW/MYTHOLOGY
8. In the race for development along the lines of the west, many believe Indian corporates had turned a blind eye to the core factor called 'Indian-ness,' which mandates intellectual and emotional growth along with economic expansion, in its definition of development, as you have rightly highlighted. When you engage with other organisations during your workshops and seminars, are you seeing corporates working on re-examining their mode of operation and trying to consciously make provisions to accommodate the Indian subjective and inclusive definition of development? This is not a matter of instruction. People do not change because you 'tell' them. Saraswati comes only in bust time, Lakshmi in boon time. But while Lakshmi comes to you upfront, you have to turn around and look at Saraswati. We are too busy chasing Lakshmi to turn around.....but there is no hurry, the gods have infinite patience as we have infinite lives.
THE SPIRIT OF INDIAN TRADITION Photography by Nilesh.J.Bhange
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Photography by Nilesh.J.Bhange
THE SPIRIT OF INDIAN TRADITION Photography by Nilesh.J.Bhange
THE SPIRIT OF INDIAN TRADITION
Photography by Nilesh.J.Bhange
NON-FICTION BY YAYAATI JOSHI
FECES, FLATULENCE AND FORNICATION
S***, F***, A** H*** - when did humour become all about bodily functions? Yayaati Joshi writes an interesting piece about our changing perceptions on what is funny.
HUMOUR CULTURE
NON-FICTION BY YAYAATI JOSHI
A few years ago, humour, even in its cheapest form, was devoid of any blatant references to activities of a more personal nature. Allusions to ‘toilet humour’, which for some reason, is deemed coruscating now, were far and few - the references being looked down upon as humour of lower standard—left for the inane enjoyment of the not so refined people. But the gradual acceptance of such humour has left me wondering-are we accepting a more primal taste when it comes to humour? Overhearing the casual chatter of people of my age group, I was surprised (not pleasantly) and disgusted to hear the banter about their excretion habits. It then dawned on me that a discussion on excretion was incomplete without the accompanying conversation of flatulence. One usually precedes the other or in cases of over consumption one can follow the other. Having re-learnt (without any intentions to do so) this biological phenomenon as an unintended recipient, I thought of my inhibitions to discuss the “unmentionables”. Another tryst with some guiltless eavesdropping brought me home to the ease with which one’s intimate moments are discussed. It’s almost as if one is discussing the mundane household chore. You do it; I do it let’s discuss how it’s done best. I am married; I have tips to share with you. No, I don’t mind. Let others listen to it. Who cares? We all do it, don’t we? So what’s the harm in discussing it? Fewer eyebrows are now raised on scatological innuendos, whether they are in books, or in the television.
This new-found standard has lowered the expectations so vastly that the poorest form of hilarity is becoming acceptable day by day. I shudder to think of a time when someone’s sneeze would be the cause of amusement to others. Consequently, in get-togethers, instead of witty remarks, will belching be considered an appropriate comic act? Or perhaps, will the act of being excused, for powdering one’s nose, be something to be laughed at? One can only hope that this despicable culture of humour doesn’t get worse. If it does, it will be such a shame.
HUMOUR CULTURE
Here’s my guess on how humour developed to its present distasteful form. In the beginning, when earth began to be inhabited by humans, man may have realised that laughing, in its simplest form, is an activity meant to please one and others. But what was the subject of the humour? Well, it had to be anything that could evoke mirth. As human beings advanced technologically, anthropologically, and socially, man learnt that few things are to be a part of one’s private domain. Some things are to be ‘hidden’ from everyone—to be done behind closed doors. This gave him the sense that an exposé of another man’s private domain will be a source of masochistic pleasure to the others. This schadenfreude, however, mustn’t have gained social acceptability. This way, the path for the dissemination of refined humour in films and popular media must have been formed. The passage of time, however, doesn’t leave anything in its original state. Now, at a time when the creative cells of comedians (and people in general) are depleting, a convenient standard has been accepted. Anything goes.
INTERVIEW BY VANI VISWANATHAN
KNIT INDIA THROUGH LITERATURE
INTERVIEW/LITERATURE
An awareness on social issues; a special sensitivity to social problems; a commitment to set people thinking - these are the unique characteristics of the writer Sivasankari. Hers has been a career devoted to touching the hearts of people through in-depth research. Having carved a niche for herself in the Tamil literary world during the last four decades, her works include more than 36 novels, 48 short novels, 150 short stories, 15 travelogues, 7 collections of articles, one talking book, 4 volumes of literary research book, 2 volumes of anthologies, and 2 biographies – of Smt. Indira Gandhi, the late Prime Minister, and of Sri. G.D. Naidu, a pioneer in many fields.
SIVASANKARI CHANDRASEKARAN VOICES OF THE MONTH
AN INTERVIEW WITH SIVASANKARI CHANDRASEKARAN What is your opinion on the scene of vernacular literature in India these days, in terms of the quality of content and the impact it is making on our society? The Indian vernacular literary scene is very vibrant. Despite the invasion by electronic media, literature in vernacular languages has managed to survive, and healthily at that. In almost all languages, experiments have been conducted in every genre of literature – be it modernism, post-modernism, structuralism or cubism. During the time I was doing my project ‘Knit India Through Literature’, I was fortunate to come across many such experiments in various Indian languages. To give you an example – Mr. Indra Bahadur Rai, a senior writer who writes in Indian Nepali, has experimented with cubism, even as far back as 25-30 years ago. As for the content of our literature, the writers have dealt with every aspect of society, starting from the freedom struggle to the present day problems, very effectively in their novels and short stories. This in turn has definitely influenced the thinking of the reading public.
As a generation, today’s Indian youth are more comfortable and proficient in reading English literature – be it Indian or otherwise – but very few are able to, or do, read in local language literature. Why do you think this is the case?
INTERVIEW/LITERATURE
Yes, it is a sad situation and it pains me to note that we elders have failed to inculcate the pride about our languages in the minds of our younger generation. The reasons for the younger generation preferring to read English literature are many. First and foremost, many families have come to believe that it is fashionable and modern if one speaks only in English. Even at home, parents prefer talking with their children in English, instead of their mother tongue. And, people believe that it increases social status only if you are educated in English and not in any vernacular language. Of course, as an international language, English must be learnt by everybody, but not at the cost of one’s mother tongue. Why youth, I know many elders who would like to carry an English book rather than a vernacular book. Before we blame the youth for what they are today, I personally believe that the elders, who are the role models for the youth, should change their attitude and give up this stigma against their mother tongue.
What do you think about translations of local language literature? Given that few of India’s emerging reading class know to read the local language, would it be a better option to draw them into this world? Besides, we would be getting more audiences – both national and international, wouldn’t we?
KNIT INDIA THROUGH LITERATURE Having worked for 14 years, Sivasankari completed her project KNIT INDIA THROUGH LITERATURE, in June 2009. She launched this project with a mission to meet and interview the stalwart writers of all the 18 Indian languages that are approved by the VIIIth Schedule of Indian constitution. These interviews accompanied by a creative work of the respective writer, are published along with her travelogues of the regions, as also an in-depth article by a scholar on the cultural and literary heritage of the various languages. The Tamil and English editions of the first volume the SOUTH, the second volume the EAST, the third volume the WEST and the final volume the NORTH of this project have been published in 1998, 2000, 2004 and 2009 respectively.
I for one strongly believe that in a country like India, where so many languages are spoken, translation is one of the bridges which can keep us unit-
BY VANI VISWANATHAN
AN INTERVIEW WITH SIVASANKARI CHANDRASEKARAN ed and together. It is impossible even for a linguist to be fluent in all the languages that are spoken in India. If that is the case, what about an ordinary individual who is familiar only with his / her regional language? To provide equal opportunity for every literary lover to read the best literature from other languages, the only means is good translations, or rather, trans-creations. I sincerely hope that the central and state governments come forward to create centres for translations and trans-creations, to help bring in the best literature from other languages into theirs.
Your project KNIT INDIA THROUGH LITERATURE is a fantastic effort to bring into light known and less-known gems within Indian literature. Congratulations for the brilliant job! What made you decide to embark on such a project?
BY VANI VISWANATHAN
INTERVIEW/LITERATURE
About 10 years ago I was in Mysore, to participate in a literary meet that attempted to analyse a novel written by a Black American woman writer. Around 20 writers from different parts of the country had gathered there to analyse the work in minute detail. Dwelling on the discussions on my journey back, I was suddenly struck by the incongruity or irony of the whole situation. While we had sufficient knowledge of world literature – Black, Latin-American or European – to be able to thoroughly analyse it, we were woefully unaware of our very own literary treasures. Leave alone the people, even our learned writers do not have much of a knowledge of literary works in Indian languages other than their own! What could be the reason for this? The fact that there had not been much effort to translate literary works into other languages could be a possible reason. Was it this thought that sowed the seed for the ‘Knit India through Literature’ project in me? Thinking back, I believe that may well be the case. On yet another occasion, when I was in Sikkim for a writers’ meet, I found that the writers who had congregated there had heard about Tamil Nadu’s idli/ sambar (a traditional breakfast food) and her silks but knew next to nothing about her literature. This had quite an impact on me. There is another aspect to this issue. While it is true that others do not know much about us, isn’t it also a fact that we know hardly anything about them? Calcutta is synonymous with rasagollas, Rajasthan with marble and Kerala with coir. How much do we Indians know about the literature created in States other than our own, and what sort of an effort have we made to get to know their traditions, their customs, their joys and sorrows? I am not saying that there haven’t been any cultural exchanges amongst us at all. A dweller of Kasi (Varanasi) may name his son 'Ramnath' after the presiding deity in the southern temple town of Rameswaram. Or a Tamil girl could be named 'Vaishnavi’ after the goddess who dwells in the foothills of the Himalayan ranges. Meera bhajans are sung in the South and Kathakali is performed in Delhi. Religious, cultural or even political links have been established over time. But are they sufficient to strengthen the unity and integrity of our nation? It is probably these questions and thoughts that have nurtured the seed of the ‘Knit India’ project within me. Plagued by all these questions, I continuously wondered if I could do something about it. The end result was my project.
AN INTERVIEW WITH SIVASANKARI CHANDRASEKARAN How did you decide on whom to speak to – I’m sure the sheer number of brilliant works in the dozens of languages in India would have made it mindboggling for you to decide! I think I should elaborate here on the ways and means by which I went about choosing suitable writers in each language. First, I wrote to literary associations and leading magazines asking them to identify prominent writers in each language. From the replies, I picked out the common names, contacted them and followed this up with personal interviews. I can assure you that this literary bridge, built with the help of worthy litterateurs, is truly strong. As far as possible, I have tried to include the views of the younger generation as well.
There would surely have been many a memorable experience as you went through your interviews in the 16 years it took you. Could you please share of them?
INTERVIEW/LITERATURE
Meeting every writer who was / is a stalwart in their respective language, was indeed an eye-opener to me in many ways. I have had beautiful experiences with almost every one of them, and it will be impossible for me to narrate all of them. Hence, I shall share with you one such experience. Dr. Shivarama Karanth, the doyen of Kannada literature, was 91 years old when I met and spent time with him for my interview. During the interview, and even after that when we were having lunch together, we were talking casually about global warming and deterioration of the environment. Dr. Karanth said, “What else can we expect from man, who has been so selfish even from the Vedic days! 'Sarve Janah Sukhino Bhavantu' (let all men prosper), a selfish principle, should give way to 'Sarve Jeeve Sukhino Bhavantu' (let all living things prosper), broad-minded thinking that will benefit the world.” I was struck by the humility and concern in his statement, and ever since, whenever I pray, it is always 'Sarve Jeeve Sukhino Bhavanthu’.
What were some of the important things you brought back from these interviews? Our former president Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan said, ‘Indian literature is one written in many languages’. After completing my project, I was moved to realise how truthful his words were! Yes, there are a lot of similarities in the themes, as the way of life in every region is almost similar. But, there were dissimilarities too. For example – people in south India have not experienced the agony and pain that was brought through the Partition in 1947. The writers of Urdu, Punjabi and Sindhi languages, who have gone through this tragedy, have recorded them movingly in many of their creations.
What did the whole series tell you about Indian literature and its chances for – if I may use this word – survival? Do you see more people reading local Indian literature, in its original form or translated? I have expressed my views partially in my previous answers. If the literature of any language, not only Indian, has to survive healthily, it is imperative that a lot of activities continuously take place. As I mentioned earlier – encouraging youngsters to learn to read their language and enjoy literature of other languages through translations; having interactions between writers and readers of various languages; government and literary institutions taking active role in promotion of good literature, are all some of the ways we can help promote the survival of literature healthily in any country.
BY VANI VISWANATHAN
TEXT AND PICTURES BY JAI CHABRIA
THE ORDINARY EXTRA-INDIAN
IN CONVERSATION/SPIRITUALITY
Jai Chabria meets an interesting man during a train journey. The conversation he has with him brings to light the man’s insight into various facets of the Indian culture. Meet the ordinary extra-Indian – as he wants to be referred to. Catch his breezy conversation with a fascinated Jai Chabria. Author’s note: I came across a very interesting person during a recent train journey. When I heard the discussion between him and his family members, I realised he had a very interesting perspective on what being Indian was all about in the context of Indian culture and its mythological heritage. On my request, he finally agreed to contribute to the pool of ideas that is 'Spark,' on the condition that he does not want to be named as any publicity will unsettle him; he wanted to be merely referred to as the 'extra-Indian.' Come with me on this extra-ordinary journey with the extra-Indian or E.I. Further, we, as Indians, celebrate myths and beliefs and appreciate symbols, illustrations and colours that bring them alive for us. My photographs here are pictorial representations of what I took away from the conversation with E.I. I begin with the hope that this will make you understand the journey better.
Why do you wish to be called 'extra-Indian'? What does it mean? E.I: It is not that I wish to be called so. I'm already being called so by my family and friends. Whenever they are in doubt and need advice, which is very often, they approach me humbly asking what path they should take. I explain what the Indian culture of right thought, word and conduct is, and they choose the path that is most suited to that philosophy. But in happier times, they are always calling me 'extra-Indian', saying things like, "Grandpa, don't get over-involved in your Indian-ness philosophy. Why don't you be cool and chilled out like the rest of us? We're all Indians too. You're just unnecessarily being extra Indian." We share a good laugh. So what is it you have done to deserve that title? E.I: Actually, I have not done anything brand new or different. It's just that these new generations come and think I'm deliberately being old. (Laughs) I'm just an ordinary Indian from my time.
Okay, could you just share with us some of those bits you were discussing with your family some time back. I'm not sure I've heard anything similar before. E.I: Okay. Our discussion was about some chief similarities in the holy texts of our Indian way called Sanatana Dharma, and the Holy Bible. For instance, in the Ramayana compiled by Sage Vyasa, Ravana approaches Sita with humility. When Sita is in Ashoka Vana, Ravana comes frequently to pay his respects, and treats Sita as the Holy Mother. He undertakes the entire exercise of Sita-haran or the abduction of Sita, to serve just one purpose - to meet Rama, and be given freedom from the cycle of birth and death. But meeting Rama cannot happen without the involvement of Sita. So Sita, plays a very central role in the text. Coming to the Holy Bible, Mother Mary is a perpetual visible or invisible presence in Christ's life. She's the foundation. Her strength and support arethe ever-present background to all efforts undertaken by Christ for the service of humanity. It's as if Christ draws His very strength from Her. And Christ wishes to meet His Holy Father one day, but not without having performed all His earthly duties towards humankind, which in turn, is made possible by the determined and unfailing support of Mother Mary, the Holy Mother. So, we see that just a male-dominated or female-dominated path does not lead to the Absolute. Both principles are required equally in order to be successful.
TEXT AND PICTURES BY JAI CHABRIA Very interesting. What about Sage Valmiki's Ramayana? E.I: Sage Valmiki has depicted Ravana's approach toward Sita as rash. But, we see that whatever be the approach, there is no way for Ravana (or the seeker, the student in search of the End or Absolute shown as Rama) to complete the journey and escape the cycle of birth and death, without the grace of Mother Sita (he later explains Her role). It's not that I'm being preachy about this point as my family accuses me of being, sometimes. But I do believe those who've not figured this out, will surely do so in some birth of theirs. As it happens, even I'm not sure how many births I've used up to figure this one out. (Laughs modestly) E.I: You have any more questions for me? (Smiles) me: Yes, actually, why don't you tell me something about our culture. (I notice his grand old face is aglow with a knowing smile!) E.I: See son, when we speak of Indian culture, we need to remember that it is a confluence of all cultures. But again, India opened her doors and hearts to all cultures and peoples because of her unshakeable faith in her own inner culture and its eternal nature. So, if you're asking what is 'perceived' Indian culture, my young grandchildren here will be able to give you a good idea of that. If you're asking about our unchanging inner Indian culture based on belief systems handed down through the ages, I'll have to go back to the very beginning of creation to even attempt an answer.
IN CONVERSATION/SPIRITUALITY
Science’s big question
What I have learned from my Guru-parampara or Teacher-disciple lineage is that there is one thing which we call THAT. We believe everything originates from THAT and dissolves in THAT. It is what you may call as the Supreme Being or God or Eternal Intelligent Power. Now, if you look around, you'll see the food chain - plant eats minerals in the soil, rat eats pulses from the plant, snake eats rat, eagle eats snake - everything has been made in a hierarchical pattern. We believe the structure is the same for the created worlds Insect world, Animal world, Human world, and so on in the hierarchy leading right up to the One seated right on top of the chain. me: This is quite fascinating. Okay, and then.. E.I: Usually, when we observe we see that in the human world, the creator of any object or institution comes first. After he creates, comes the next
Now, what we feel is beyond the human world, we call as divine, admitting that IT is beyond our power to comprehend. Why is it difficult for the human mind to comprehend the divine? It is because the divine operates on the exact opposite of human principles. To state an example, for the human, the idea of birth is great, but death is bad. For the divine, the idea of birth in the human world of suffering and fear, leaving IT's bliss behind, is bad. Death or release from the bondage of the human world and the return to IT's divine bliss, is great. In a similar manner, if we start from the THAT, and count down in order of birth, we see that in our idea of the divine, the role of Destroyer is foremost. It is the One that helps remove the external trappings of the manifested world and thus, helps become the Essence which is THAT. That is why, in order of hierarchy, It must have been the first to have been born from the THAT, having to remain and maintain the principle which is closest to being the THAT. That is why we call the Destroyer or Destructive Principle as Aadi, the First One or First Born, and recognise It as the One upholding the Highest Principle of Silence and Stillness, which will help reach the THAT. It is considered most important. Next in order of birth and importance is the role of Sustainer or Preserver. It is the One that is an offshoot of the Destroyer, the One that will sustain what is going to come next while upholding at Its core the higher principle of renunciation, which will help reach the Destroyer, which in turn will help reach the THAT. Because It sustains and preserves while It exists and in order of hierarchy of birth, comes between the Destroyer and what It itself is going to create next - the Creator, It is called Ananth, the One without an end. Middle, as you see, has no
IN CONVERSATION/SPIRITUALITY
World’s largest science facility, CERN, admits to BIG BANG mystery
one, the one who keeps it running. Last, comes the one who causes the object's destruction and that one is either feared or condemned.
THE ORDINARY EXTRA-INDIAN
A seeker’s root questions end, as It is the Middle. Then comes the role of Creator, which is an offshoot of the Sustainer. The pictorial depiction too shows the Creator seated in a lotus, the stalk of which is seen emerging from the navel of the Sustainer - who in turn, is seen reclining in a peaceful position. The stalk resembles the umbilical chord, the lotus in bloom symbolises the crown chakra of the Sustainer. According to ancient Indian medical science, chakras are vortices of energy, and a unique chakra corresponds to each of our different organ systems. The highest chakra placed near the crown of the head is depicted as a thousandpetalled lotus, symbolising supreme knowledge. Not surprisingly, this chakra is also called Brahmarandhra or the chamber of Brahma - the Creator. In addition, in human beings, the chakra corresponding to the creative system is placed near the lowest. In the divine, it is opposite. The role of the
Creator is to remain rooted in the lotus or awareness of the supreme knowledge of Unity which is THAT; but to create diverse beings, principles, ideas and meanings which will operate at lower levels of clarity ignorant of their divine Unity. The Creator's job is to also encode a binding factor common to all beings, which if realised, will help those beings reach the higher levels in the hierarchy, which will finally lead them to and culminate their search in THAT. And of course, our depiction of the Holy Mother through the ages - Mother Sita, Mother Parvathi, Mother Durga, Lakshmi and Saraswati, are all different aspects of the same Holy Mother. Just as the different principles we spoke about earlier, they are different aspects of the same THAT. SHE is the symbol of the Creative Principle and Creative Power of THAT and coming down the hierarchy, of
One day all rivers, irrespective of name, religion, caste, which state they come from, rich or poor etc., will flow and merge in that Sea which unites all diversity. I am merely one among those multitudes of rivers and am just trying to understand my world from books and wise words my country has kept alive for centuries. Whether I manage to understand or fail to understand, I am glad and relieved that one day You and I are definitely going to flow gracefully into that Sea of Supreme Truth, Consciousness and Bliss." I accompany him to the door. As we wait for the train to slow down at the station, I can't help but ask my last question.
SHE is the common factor beneath all diversity. Pic : Google Images
Saying this, the extra-Indian gathers his bags and gets up from his seat next to the open window. He turns around to face me and says, 'Remember my boy, there is no rush to understand anything. The river was made to flow into the sea. It will.
E.I looks suddenly lost like a child denied a chocolate and waiting in hope. He finally answers as the train slows to a stop. E.I: Some of us are looking for something which does not meet the description of anything our worlds have given us. We are looking for that uniting factor beneath all this diversity we see. See son, look outside. We are moving towards the station, but it can also be seen as though the station is approaching us. Some of us are foolish enough not to wait until the time we flow into the Sea. We try to find and surrender to that Holy Mother, which is common to all and dearest to that Sea. And we live in hope, that the unthinkable will happen..that the Sea will reach out to gather us and merge us into IT's everlasting BLISS. He alights with his bags and the unthinkable happens. I find myself calling out to him, "Sir, how do I find HER?"
IN CONVERSATION/SPIRITUALITY
each and every principle we have just spoken about, which is why we call IT the Mother or Feminine Principle. Without HER, no principle can function and no creation will be possible. That is why, SHE is called Aadi Para-Shakthi or the First Supreme Super-Power, as it is this Creative Principle that gave rise to the Trinity and the rest of the entire hierarchy of creation. So, HER grace is required for anything and everything - to emerge from THAT as well as to return to THAT. Because to return to THAT, one needs to somehow reach the Destroyer, and the Destroyer, like any other manifested principle, cannot function without Its Creative Principle. So call out to HER, surrender to HER, like the devoted Ravana, and wait patiently for Rama to come.. Happy Navratri!
me: You said we as the rivers will surely flow into the Sea which is THAT. Then, if it is going to happen anyway, why at all are we trying to understand anything?
TEXT AND PICTURES BY JAI CHABRIA
Be the river—meet the sea principle He turns around smiling that knowing smile again, his eyes gleaming. He commands, "Leave all fears aside. Just call out to HER, 'Mother...Mother...Mother..' SHE will come if your heart is true. That is how I found HER too. SHE may manifest in any form – sudden intuitive powers, sudden eloquence in a language which is not your native tongue, new-found artistic abilities..in a way that you will know something brand new and powerful is with you. As for me now, the wait is on." He shakes hands, smiles a winning smile and disappears into the crowd. What an amazing journey and what an Indian! Creative Principle..? Could all this be true?..I ask myself. Just then, I become aware of a tingling in the hand he just shook moments ago.. like electrical energy in repeated waves flowing continuously for several minutes. Dear readers, none of all the science I am so fond of, and my head is so full with, can help me find words to explain this feeling to you. But I understand. I had asked a question after his departure and yet, the question had been answered. From the doorway of my compartment, I desperately scan the crowd rushing towards the station's exit, but I can't find E.I. All that I now know is that new questions have replaced all the old answers in my head. This is that extraordinary journey that has just ended. But a new one to find those answers has just begun. Goodbye readers, hope you enjoyed travelling with us. And, Thank You E.I – I hope the Station comes to get you soon!
“Ravi and Geeta 4ever”, Screams the uncouth carvings, On the old wall of the edifice.
Just beyond “4ever”, Lies a mosaic of carvings; The intricate work of another age.
Words seem to float through The tiny curves on the grille; Voices straining to be heard.
Are these gentle whispers?
Not the man relieving himself,
Or loud harangues,
As the bulwark lends itself
From ghosts of the past?
Gracefully, for the disgrace.
But who can decipher this?
Nor the crying baby,
They wouldn’t know.
In a makeshift swing,
They wouldn’t care.
On the perch of his makeshift house.
Not the solitary German,
No, the ghosts are unheard.
Leafing through the pages of
Buried in the jostle
‘Discover India on a budget’.
For earth, for mind, for memory.
Not the peanut seller,
The tombs of past rulers;
Hacking at flies
Overthrown by the masses
Like an emperor chagrined.
From an uncaring future.
mpnchar
ARCHITECTURE/CULTURE
FADE AWAY
Poetry by Parth Pandya
SPECIAL COLUMN/ART
RADHIKA PRABHU
In a fleeting moment, Radhika Prabhu realises that it’s not just dance that symbolises movement – in fact, movement is everywhere. The dancer pens a poetic and introspective piece.
DANCE
MOVEMENT IS EVERYWHERE
Radhika Prabhu is a dancer and choreographer, painter (Bachelor's degree in Visual Arts specializing in painting from Karnataka Chitrakala Parishat), and a poet based in Bangalore. She has trained in Bharatanatyam from Gurus Shubha Dhananjay and Kiran Subramanyam. She has performed at major festivals all over India and has won awards which include 'Natya Sri', Nrithya Jyothi', and 'Nrithya Bhushana'. She has recently come out with her first collection of poetry 'Snatches of Sunshine'. She is also training in Kathak, Contemporary; and Ballet (Yana Lewis).
VOICES OF THE MONTH
THE BIRTH OF MOVEMENT
ART BY RADHIKA PRABHU
SPECIAL COLUMN/ART
DANCE
Some questions don’t have any answers, and sometimes it so happens that some answers don’t have any questions at all. They do not need questions. They are more like realisations, philosophies, simple truths that life sometimes surprisingly reveals to us. Such a realisation hit me hard, in an unexpected moment, and without my knowledge, has opened the doors to deeper, subtler thinking of paths beyond. It happened as I was happily, nonchalantly, strolling on my terrace during sunset, trying to imprint myself in the memories of the beautiful twilight. It was a realisation so simple that though most of us would know it, it would hardly suffice until it is realized in its entirety. Being a dancer is a thing of great pride for me; but that evening , as I watched Nature dancing to the rhythms of silence, spellbound, it not only made me embrace my passion closer to my soul but also made me realize that dance could exist without us ‘dancers’, without being captured in the frames of our body. Movement – is everywhere. Even a baby in its mother’s womb moves. ‘Movement’ is the first thing that comes to it, naturally, even before it is physically fully formed. Everything moves… The wind sweeps across. The clouds glide by. The stars travel. The sunrays choreograph lovely random patterns on the evening stage of the sky. Birds fly. Butterflies prance. Peacocks dance. The oceans have their waves with their petulant jumps and cartwheels. The rivers and lakes have their graceful ripples and swirls. Trees sway. Leaves tremble and shiver. Flowers swing on the branches. Raindrops create their own tap music. And so are all our minds in constant movement. Thoughts enter and exit. Heartbeats have their ‘Adi Talas’. Eyes have their own expressions. Breaths are always in a trance, dancing to the beats of an inner energy. Feelings balance upon the experiences of life. And life… well, life ‘moves’ on….. Well! So much for my pride of being a ‘dancer’! If only I could dance like a wave, rising and stretching up to the moon and rolling down on the sea-shell clad sand… Lao – Tse has said – ‘Let life be like a dance’. A very picturesque statement indeed, but the more I tried to think about it, the deeper it took me. Why ‘dance’? Maybe because dance is ‘momentary’. It is in the moment. It is there in our body, yet it is not there. Whether it is a rehearsal or a performance, no one ‘movement’ done in a particular ‘moment’ is repeated just as it is, even though the step or the gesture might be
VOICES OF THE MONTH
SPECIAL COLUMN/ART
DANCE
the same. Every time we move, every drop of blood is in a different place in our body. Every corner of the mind transforms every single moment. Just like life. No moment can be turned back in time or lived exactly as it is. Through pains and smiles we go through everything, just as in life ‘we’ become the dance, moving to the music of feelings and thoughts on this strange stage called life… And nor are we dancers, after a certain point, even aware of our physical identity. In dance our body becomes our name, our voice; it becomes all ‘us’. And then gradually the names of steps start melting away, the barriers of ‘style’ fade away, and the boundaries between different ‘forms’ of dance evaporate in the bright light of the unbridled bliss of dancing. Well! A simple enough thought, yet so profound that I will not be able to look at anything or anyone the same way. Dance is more like a command of Nature, a gift from Nature to herself and her creations. Like mother’s blood filling life in her child… And as Nature filled my mind with this new creative blood, I came back to my room and opened the windows to let the moonlight bow down and seep in through the window panes. It now seemed impossible to escape from ‘dance’ - anywhere, anytime. Because I knew that even as I slept and my physical body rested, my dreams would continue the dance – unbridled, unfathomable, like un-choreographed ballets bursting forth and being staged on surrealistic indigo horizons…
RADHIKA PRABHU
ARRANGEMENTS Shreya Ramachandran discusses the tradition of arranged marriages in India through a story. Meet Anshika, a young and vibrant woman, who finds it very difficult to make up her mind about a prospective alliance found by her mother. And while Shreya takes us through her troubled mind, we also learn yet another truth – is love ever really lost in the fabric of dynamic relationships?
FICTION BY SHREYA RAMACHANDRAN
It was almost eleven in the morning when Anshika finally turned up at the restaurant, with her hair falling onto her face and her fingers black with grease. Her foot was stained with blood, and her kajal had smudged onto her cheeks. She could feel damp patches of sweat on her kurta. Her brother Aniket had left ten missed calls on her cell phone, and she had ignored them all.
ARRANGEMENTS SHREYA RAMACHANDRAN
“Anshika.” Vinay’s eyes widened when he looked her disheveled self. “What happened?” “Nothing. The thing is, my scooter fell over. I had to come on my scooter, well actually it’s Aniket’s scooter, and it kind of almost fell down onto me, but it’s okay. Nothing really happened. The autowalas went crazy, kept saying they’d take me anywhere for free. It was disgusting, and the main thing was that the scooter was scratch-free. Thank God the scooter is fine, because Aniket would have literally shrieked like a two-year-old if something happened to the scooter. It’s a family heirloom. Dad left it for us. Apparently it has sentimental value.” “Anshika… Are you okay? I know that your father--” “I’m okay. Forget my father.” The waiter placed down their order of paratha and bread omelette. They looked down automatically at their food, served neatly on steel plates with identical cups of ketchup. “Anshika, when your mother fixed this marriage… You were okay with it, weren’t you?” Vinay asked. “Look, my mother does many things. I didn’t know if I wanted to get married. I still don’t know.” She paused to take a huge bite of bread omelette. “Listen Vinay, the past two months we’ve known each other, it’s been great fun spending time with you. I look forward to our little lunch dates. But the thing is, do you want to marry me? Marriage is different from eating bread omelettes with a girl at Shahi Family Restaurant outside the house your family has lived in since the Quit India times.
haml3t
INDIAN CULTURE/ARRANGED MARRIAGES
FICTION BY SHREYA RAMACHANDRAN
NJ
You knew what your job title was before you were old enough to know the family business. Marriage to someone with a profile like mine was the logical next step. Is that why you want to marry me?” “Anshika, ever since the day I first met you, I knew I wanted to marry you. Both our mothers were talking about our kundlis matching…” She started laughing again, and slapped him on the shoulder. “God, is this happening? You’re talking about our horoscopes matching? What next, you’re going to say you’ll only marry me if my father buys you two cars and one farmhouse in Chattarpur?” “After sixty three days of knowing you, I am sure I want to marry you.” “That’s not the point, Vinay. The point is, should we get married? I can’t just get married! Just… I don’t know.” She got out of the booth. “Chal, let’s get out of here. It’s so stifling. I can’t think.” * Anshika made it back home in a record 10 minutes and dismounted before the engine was turned off. She ran to the back of the house, where Aniket and their mother were sitting at the old wooden table in the garden, cutting capsicums and potatoes. “Anshika. Where have you been? I called you at least 20 times.” Aniket’s voice was low and urgent. He tilted his head towards their mother. “Ma’s upset. You’ve taken two months to decide about Vinay.” “I knew what you were going to say. And no, I can’t marry him. Why are you upset, Ma? Aniket, your scooter fell. I’m sorry! Nothing happened to it, thank God. I was really worried… for a minute…. Why are you both looking at me like that?” “Anshika, sit down.” Their mother didn’t even look up from the knife and cutting board. She sat down. “When I went to speak to Vinay’s mother, you know how difficult it was? We haven’t spoken to Vinay’s family since your father left us”, her mother said, and her voice wavered and broke and she started crying. “Oh God Ma. At least put down the knife before crying. You’re scaring me.” “Our respect was completely lost ever since that happened.”
“Ma. Dad left YOU. If anything, his respect should be lost, not YOURS. What the hell is this?” “Anshika, let Ma finish”, Aniket said, trying to keep things peaceful, but Anshika had already stood up. “She doesn’t need to finish, Aniket. I know what she’ll say. She’ll say I need to marry Vinay, otherwise our RESPECT WILL BE LOST.” “Anshika, calm down…” “You know what, I am just sick of this family. I am completely sick of this. Dad leaves us with nothing except a broken scooter and a half-depleted bank account, and you don’t even care.” “Don’t talk about your father that way”, her mother said, cutting a potato into small dices. Aniket fiddled with his collar sleeve. “Aniket, seriously, say something. This is ridiculous. She’s defending Dad.” Before Aniket could speak, Anshika said, “I’m just sick of this family.” She picked up the knife from Aniket’s cutting board and jabbed it straight through the heart of a particularly fat capsicum. ******** Metro Park should not have existed, and yet it did. It should long ago have been taken over by yet another manic construction project; the grass should have morphed into yellow, sparse shrubs crowded by a forest of rotting trash. But the park stayed untouched as the city's only green lungs. Children with a new Chor Police game strategy dying to be tested; engineers wrung by writing code at Tech Park; evening walkers determined that today would be that one magical day when the two kilos disappear for good; all these people slowly filtered into the park as the evening thickened. The Shantinagar Metro line stretched in the distance, with hulky trains shuttling like mad elephants across its parallel tracks.
INDIAN CULTURE/ARRANGED MARRIAGES
FICTION BY SHREYA RAMACHANDRAN “You haven’t called the past two days,” Vinay said to Anshika. “Is something wrong?” Another Metro train passed by in the distance, filled with people she would never meet. Maybe she would finally tell Vinay. Life wouldn’t stop. Another train would pass by exactly four minutes later. She scratched her knee and sat up. “When I was 18 years old, I couldn’t decide whether to do a BA in English or Journalism. Sometime around then, Dad announced his hidden but everlasting love for a very nice Bengali woman named Harini. A Journalism professor.” Anshika’s smile was a half-stitch. “Safe to say, I picked BA English after that.” Vinay nodded. “Continue….” “I don’t know…. He moved out, but didn’t even take his clothes from the cupboard or the things in his desk. They’re still there, and I keep telling Ma we should throw them out, but she never listens. Dad didn’t even move to a new city. I run into Harini almost every week in Shantinagar. Aniket and Ma are still obsessed with Dad. They polish his desk with Colin every day. And the worst part is seeing the wedding album – the horrible black and white photos of Ma and Dad.” A new ice-cream wala hopefully trundled into the commercial hotspot of Metro Park. Vinay cleared his throat softly. “Anshika, 20 years from now, you’ll tell our children – one boy named Sidharth and one girl named Sahaana – about the times you weren’t sure whether an arranged marriage would work. The next time you bump into Harini or your mother is sitting and waiting for your father to ring the doorbell, you can say that your life isn’t stuck like a broken old watch, insisting it’s two o’clock even when you know it’s ten. You’ll have new wedding photos to look at, and I promise they won’t be black and white.” Anshika didn’t say anything. She turned away to watch two children playing with half-unstrung badminton rackets and a very battle-weary shuttlecock, but her attention was somewhere else. “That was a very impressive speech, boss”, she said, when she turned back towards him. Vinay smiled. “Thank you.” “Now let’s go home, Aniket will go mad otherwise. As it is, I’m not picking up his calls.” “Why not?” “He’ll just ask me if I’ve decided about marrying you.” “Okay…. What will you tell him?” “Well… Let’s see.” They stood up and dusted the wet grass off themselves.¬ She picked up her bag and he shook a small white insect off his arm. They walked out of Metro Park without seeing that three more trains passed by or that yet another ice-cream wala had come and gone.
INTERVIEW BY ANUPAMA KRISHNAKUMAR
TELLING RAVANA’S STORY
In an interview to Spark, Vijayendra Mohanty talks about Ravanayan and the experience of writing a comic series, including feedback and challenges. Interview by Anupama Krishnakumar.
Interview/mythology
VIJAYENDRA MOHANTY
Vijayendra Mohanty is an Indian comic book writer. He has written stories and scripts for publications such as Comic JUMP and COMIX.INDIA. He is the writer and co-creator of Ravanayan, a 10-issue comic book series based on the story of king Ravana of Lanka.
I know you may have answered this question at least a dozen times - but for the uninitiated, there couldn't be a better way to begin this interview. Tell us why you decided to tell the story of Ravana. The Ramayana is a complicated story about the nature of the world, man's place in it, and the way we define good and evil. But too often, it is told as a simplistic moral fable about "good" triumphing over "evil". The Indian view of the world is way more complicated (and way more beautiful) than that. The world is a diverse place and it can't be broken down into simple little categories like good and evil. Dharma is a nuanced philosophy according to which each individual fulfills his or her function as a part of a greater whole. Thanks to the aforementioned simplistic versions of the Ramayana, when a modern Indian thinks about Ravana, he thinks "villain". This works on another plane as a justifier for demonising people as well. Our intention with Ravanayan is to show that the world is a complicated place and everyone has reasons for doing the things they do. If, by the time a reader has finished reading our story, he can see a bit of himself in one of Hindu mythology's most dreaded bad guy ever, then perhaps he will also think twice before labeling the people in his life as evil; then we will consider our work as storytellers done.
So while we do not change anything in Valmiki's original, we tell a completely new story by going behind the scenes of a story known to every Indian.
Now that two issues of the ten-part series are out, how has the response been? I am particularly curious to know how people responded to the concept of retelling an epic from the point of view of someone branded as 'the bad'.
The response has been very heartening. So far, of the hundreds and hundreds of feedback messages we have received, only one or two can be called negative. Many picked up a copy just because they thought the concept was intriguing. I think comic book readers on the whole, are adventurous and open-minded people who don't get uncomfortable when things take strange turns. Also, we found that not too many people are hung up about our protagonist being a "bad guy". There were some who came to Ravanayan with hopes of seeing a sensationalist "Lord Rama exposed" sort of narrative, but I suppose they were disappointed. Ravanayan has no villains. Rama is still the heroic prince and Ravana still commits each and every mistake he did in What made you decide to narrate this story through a comValmiki's original. We haven't flipped the hero-villain posiic series? Why not a book? Well, for one thing, the artist Vivek Goel would have been tioning. We have redefined what being a hero means. out of work. Secondly, we didn't look for a medium after deciding upon the story. We started looking for a story after we had decided that we wanted to do a comic. The comic What is the challenge in writing for a medium like comics? book, as a storytelling medium, isn't seen as having as much value as a book (as your question shows to an extent). Both Too many to go into in one short answer. But mostly, it has Vivek and I are big believers in the power of comics as a tool to do with the challenges that come with any collaborative to enrich India's story landscape. Right now, what we have is work. As a writer, my creative decisions have to factor in a film industry that is somewhat limited in choice of genre my artist partner Vivek Goel's strengths and choice of style and has to bow to financial concerns because making a mov- as well. This means that from beginning to end, the making ie is not cheap. Because of this, many stories remain untold. of a comic book is an epic tale of compromises. We try to We believe that comics can emerge as an alternative popular entertainment medium. With Ravanayan we are simply keep it as seamless as possible, but creating a comic book requires creators to adapt and adjust, not only with the colworking towards that future. laborative work flow, but also to each other. How much of a role has research played in the shaping of Ravanayan? What were some of the materials you looked through for this? How exactly did you go about planning this series in terms For the most part, our source has been the Valmiki Ramayaof the scripting and sketching? Was the story decided first na. But the reason we looked to Valmiki was not because we and then logically split into parts? Can you walk us wanted to reproduce incidents from his version of events, but because we didn't want to. Our Ravanayan is a narrative through the process of how you and artist, Vivek Goel, coof events that happen in the gaps of the Ramayana. ordinate your work?
Work started in full earnest soon after the publishing decision was taken. The way we work now is that I write up the scripts for individual issues -these include panel descriptions, dialogues, and other directions -- and email them to Vivek. Then we discuss the story and once satisfied, Vivek starts with the drawing. Once he is done, the art goes for colouring and once that is done, it comes back to me for the lettering (all those caption boxes and speech bubbles). After lettering, I send the pages back to Vivek and after that, there is just the printer between us and the reader.
We decided that we were going to do a comic together. But it had to be something monumental, both in terms of topic, and implementation. After we decided to make it about Ravana, we planned to have it out as a 120 page graphic novel. Later, due to economic as well as other concerns, we had to break it down into 12 16-page chapters. Vivek drew up concept sketches based on the plot synopsis we had prepared and we started to brainstorm on and off. This was a long time ago and various other projects kept getting in our way. But eventually, we got around to working on Ravanayan again. Vivek founded his own comic book publishing company by the name of Holy Cow Entertainment and we decided to publish Ravanayan through the new brand.
Vivek is a self-taught comic book artist who learned his craft like Ekalavya learnt archery. His style is very American and this brings a contemporary edge to Ravanayan as far as action sequences are concerned. We both have very different approaches to the task of telling a story. Our interactions are less about telling the other person to change and more about changing ourselves to work better with each other. To this end, Vivek has had to adapt to suit my way of occasionally slow and conversation-centric scenes. I, on the other hand, have had to learn how to tell the story through (and sometimes in spite of) thick action all around.
VIJAYENDRA MOHANTY
This interview cannot be complete without a few thoughts on Vivek's work. What is it about his style that you really like and that you feel sets his approach apart? Further, what's the sort of feedback you give Vivek for his sketches when working on the issues?
Ravanayan is going to be a ten-part series. When is the series expected to end? Some of our plans regarding Ravanayan have changed since we began publishing it. Reader feedback indicated that while people are loving our is-
Interview/mythology
sues, they find themselves a little let down by the small number of pages. This is understandable since with a comic book that is only 16 pages long, the reading experience never gets a chance to mature. We have made some changes to our publishing schedule and Ravanayan will no longer come out in issues containing single chapters. We are packing two chapters into every issue from now on and this means that the series will come to an end before the earlier estimated date. At the rate at which we are going, Ravanayan readers should see its magnificent finale sometime in January 2012.
Do you feel you can approach the other epic, The Mahabharata from a different perspective? If yes, which way would you look at it? The entirety of the Mahabharata cannot be approached the way we have approached the Ramayana. It is a much more complicated narrative involving multiple characters with all shades of grey. No character in the Mahabharata can be called a being of light if we assess the Mahabharata's merit by way of simplistic understanding of right and wrong. One of our early candidates was Duryodhana himself. But we decided to go in Ravana's direction because he is a more solid presence as far as villainous presence is concerned. In the Mahabharata, there is no one centre of all things evil like there is (allegedly) in the Ramayana. While it is possible to take individual episodes from the epic and fashion them into something new, the epic on the whole can't be made to fit any modern mould without making serious compromises. It is simply too big. This doesn't mean that I would not like to try it someday, of course. Just that now is not the time.
The final question - obviously, What, after Ravanayan? Something new, of course. And hopefully, something better. :)
THE MAGIC OF TANJORE TEMPLE
CHARCOAL SKETCH BY MAHESWARAN SATHIAMOORTHY
Lakshmi Sharath is a media professional, a passionate traveller, travel writer and consultant. Her travel stories have appeared in publications like The Hindu, Deccan Herald, Express, HT Brunch and Bangalore Mirror as well as in a host of websites. She has also written for inflight travel magazines. In addition, Lakshmi writes in her travel blog http://backpakker.blogspot.com Temples are brilliant representations of Indian culture. In a special column for Spark, popular travel writer and blogger, Lakshmi Sharath, brings to life, some of the most important temples in South India through her words. One that vividly discusses the architecture, legend and history behind these temples, this column is definitely an eye-opener and a mustread! Text and Pictures by Lakshmi Sharath.
SPECIAL COLUMN/ARCHITECTURAL HERITAGE/HISTORY
VOICES OF THE MONTH
By Lakshmi Sharath
Living Monuments that Tell Fascinating Tales
Temples to me are not just about religion. While I do look for a spiritual connection when I visit them, temples are essentially living monuments that have withstood the ravages of time and have continued to live to tell a tale. They speak of a glorious past, of kings and queens, of societies and civilisations, of a social and cultural life and of art and architecture that existed eons ago. The silence inside the ancient temples tells me stories in the form of myths and legends that fascinates me. Here are some temples that I have visited and that have stayed close to my heart for all the wonderful things they speak of the Indian culture.
Bhagamandala and Talacauvery - Coorg, Karnataka, India Bhagamandala is sacred as there is the confluence or kudla or sangama of the three rivers, Cauvery and its tributaries Kanika and Sujyoti. Interestingly, Sujyoti is largely mythical as it is meant to be flowing underground and joining the main river as she spreads herself and flows along. Bhagamandala comes from the name Sri Bhagandeshwara temple, which houses the deities Bhagandeshwara (Lord Shiva), Subramanya, Vishnu and Ganapathi. Known as Bhagandeshwara Kshetra, the temples are built in Kerala style and each sculpture tells a different story. Carved in stone, they depict the Dasavatharam or the ten avatars of Vishnu, stories from mythology, Indian customs and festivals.
SPECIAL COLUMN BY LAKSHMI SHARATH
A plethora of legends flow down the Cauvery, but the most interesting is the legend of the river itself. Cauvery prayed to Lord Vishnu that she should become the most sacred of rivers and Vishnu granted her the wish saying that the while Ganga originates from the Lord’s feet, Cauvery will be worn as a garland by the God. It is believed that Ganga flows underground and even cleanses herself in the Cauvery and remains here for a month.
Pilgrims flock to Talacauvery in midOctober where the river gives Darshan to her devotees. The water from the spring overflows and it is called Tula Sankramana. It is believed to be the rebirth of the river itself and according to the priests, Goddess Parvathi comes down to earth on that day. The holy water is taken home by all pilgrims after a dip in the river.
Interestingly, the river Cauvery is behind the Kodava style of draping the saree. If you notice, their saree knot is always placed behind. A Kodava lady told me this story. Cauvery who was married to the sage, Agasthya, had asked him to promise that he will let her know whenever and wherever he stepped out. She said that she would leave him if he ever broke the promise. One morning the sage apparently went for a stroll without informing his wife, who decided to leave him as he had not kept his word. Despite pleas and requests, the river decided to flow underground.
SPECIAL COLUMN/ARCHITECTURAL HERITAGE/HISTORY
Located in the Brahmagiri hills is the Talacauvery, where the river Cauvery originates and flows 800 km down to Poompuhar in Tamil Nadu. An enclosure around the spring called Gundige is connected to a small pond which flows underground and emerges after about a kilometre down the hill. There are shrines above the spring and temples dedicated to Agasthyeshwara and Ganesha. It is believed that the Saptha Rishis had performed a penance here to get immortality. The priest informed us that the Agni Kundas can be seen there.
LIVING MONUMENTS THAT TELL FASCINATING TALES Kandya temple, Chikmagalur, Karnataka, India A couple of hours from Sringeri is Chikmagalur and as one climbs the western ghats across the hairpin bends, dense forests and coffee plantations, one comes across an ancient temple called the Kandya temple, where the river Bhadra flows quietly behind. River Badra and River Tunga join to form the Tunga Bhadra which flows down the ruins of the Vijayanagar empire in Hampi. The story of Markandeya who defies death and the Lord of Death, Yama, by praying to Lord Shiva is immortalised here; hence the name Kandya temple. The story goes that Markandeya's parents had prayed to Lord Shiva for a son. Lord Shiva gave them an option - either an intelligent compassionate son who will die at 16 years or a stupid, indifferent son who will live a long life. The parents opted for the former and when Markandeya became 16 years old, Yama landed with his noose to claim his life. Markandeya requested a few minutes to pray to Shiva, but death waits for none. As Yama flung the noose over Markandeya's neck, the boy clung on to the Linga praying to the Lord. As the noose tightened, it is said that Lord Shiva emerged out of the Linga and gave Markandeya his life back saying that he will live and forever be 16 years of age. It is said to be a very ancient temple and not much literature is available here.
SPECIAL COLUMN BY LAKSHMI SHARATH
Sringeri, Karnataka, India This is where Adi Shankaracharya set up his first Peetam or Mutt to teach and establish his Advaitha Doctrine. More than 12 centuries ago, he had come to Sringeri in search of a location. He saw an unusual sight on the banks of the Tunga that made him realise that this place was sacred. A cobra was seen spreading out its hood over a pregnant frog, protecting it from the scorching sun. He was struck by the sanctity of the area which could bring two enemies together and infuse love between them. The Acharya chose this very location to establish His first Mutt. The first Guru of the Peetam was Sureshwaracharya and this led to a tradition of having spiritual masters or Acharyas who represent Adi Sankaracharya and his doctrines. The present Acharya, Sri Bharati Tirtha Swamigal is the 36th in the line of Guru Parampara and is a renowned scholar There are several temples in the Mutt including the Sharadambal temple, which is that of the presiding deity. Adi Shankaracharya had invoked the Goddess of Knowledge, Sharada, consecrated an idol of her and even named the Peetam after her. It is said that the idol was initially made of sandalwood and "installed over the Chakra that Sri Adi Shankara carved on a rock." Later on, many Acharyas embellished the temple and it became what it is today. Sculptures adorn the walls of the temple as each pillar invokes the spirit of the deity. The other shrines include several deities like Kodandarama, Malayala Brahma, Thoranam Ganapathi, Stambha Ganapathi Janardhana Swamy, Balasubramanya, Chandramouleeswara Linga and each has its own story.
LIVING MONUMENTS THAT TELL FASCINATING TALES
The Vidyashankara Temple, built in the 14th century (1338) is dedicated to Lord Shiva. The temple stands almost at the entrance to the River Tunga and is an architectural marvel. A fusion of Hoysala, Chalukya, Vijaynagar and Dravidian styles, this temple was built by the pontiff, Sri Bharati Krishna Tirtha Acharya, as a tribute to his Guru, the 10th Acharya, Sri Vidyatirtha during the reign of the brothers, Harihara and Bukka, the founders of the Vijaynagar empire. His brother and succeeding Acharya, Sri Vidyaranya, was the Guru of the Vijaynagar empire, founded in 1336 which had its capital in Hampi. The temple has twelve pillars adorned with sculptures and they represent the twelve zodiac signs and it is said that they are placed in such a way that the rays of the sun fall on each of them in the order of the calendar or the twelve solar months. One cannot miss the stone rings that hang in the shrine which is seen in most monuments built during the Vijaynagar period. The sculptures on the ceilings, walls and even the floor are all depictions of the various puranas. Another temple is said to be buried beneath this temple and there is a story around it. Sri Vidyatirtha was the reigning Acharya in the 13th century when two brothers from Ekasilanagaram or today's Warangal came to meet him. While the younger brother renamed as Sri Bharati Krishna Tirtha stayed with him, the older, Sri Vidyaranya, travelled to spread the doctrines. Sri Vidyatirtha wanted to meditate and he explained to Sri Bharati Krishna Tirtha that his body would assume the shape of Chaturmurti Vidyeshwara after 12 years of yoga. An underground chamber was excavated near the bank of the river Tunga and the pontiff went into meditation with the instruction that no one should open the door for 12 years. After three years, when Sri Bharati Krishna Tirtha was away, the attendants opened the chamber out of curiosity only to see that the body was no longer there, but there was a linga in its place. Sri Bharati Krishna Tirtha was upset over the incident, but he received a message from his Guru to build a temple there and call it the Vidyashankara temple. Sri Bharati Krishna Tirtha succeeded Sri Vidyatirtha as the next Acharya and he was followed by his brother, Sri Vidyaranya.
SPECIAL COLUMN/ARCHITECTURAL HERITAGE/HISTORY
Vidyashankara Temple, Sringeri, Karnataka, India
NON-FICTION BY VARSHA SREENIVASAN
Will the ‘Lotus-Giver’ BLOOM AGAIN?
It served eager students of the 5th and 6th centuries as the most advanced centre for learning of its time. But most importantly, it also served as the nurturing grounds for a rich, culturally diverse population of students and scholars. It’s been a long time since then and Nalanda University is trying to shake off the centuries-worth of ashes and dust to reach out to humankind all over again. Meet the spunky phoenix - Nalanda. Varsha Sreenivasan
I
I don't know if you remember me. I'm Nalanda, the age-old university in your very own country. I can't help but laugh at the way I feel when someone calls me a Phoenix, makes me feel more like a fizzled out volcano. Haha. Speaking of volcanoes, I'm not the dead one..just dormant. And now I feel is the right time to come forward and meet you all—dear students of the new age. Watching you guys zip around with your super-bikes and fast cars and jumbo jets..makes me feel so old. Yup, it is I who will need to do most of the catching up. See, I'm already catching up with the way you guys speak.. On that note, come let's have a chat..just you and me. I'll tell you some stories about me and we'll share some stories about you. So here we go.. You know what, if I had my way, I'd invite all you students home to the beautiful Bihar. It's a fine place for a nice cup of tea and a chat. If my
memory serves me right, I remember an enlightened being who used to visit our premises often..I remember the name as Buddha. Back then, you see, they used to say my name meant something. Half my name means 'Lotus' and the rest means 'Giver.' I guess the lotus symbolised knowledge in full bloom and I was seen as the one capable of imparting it. Oh but, lots of water has flown under the bridge since then. What you probably read in history books, I have actually seen on campus..and was it grand! I have no other term to describe these happenings my friend..for whatever happened, happened on a very grand scale out here. Wars and veneration..I guess I've seen it all. There was a time friends and students came in search of me..from faraway lands. They said they came from Tibet and China, also Korea, Japan and Indonesia, and yes, from Persia and Turkey as well. Oh I'm not boasting. Just happy that such
ARCHAEOLOGY/HERITAGE
RUINS OF THE HISTORICAL NALANDA UNIVERSITY diversity, friends and students from such different lands and faiths, mingled and lived as one family..right here before my eyes. You should've heard the stories they told each other..the students from Tibet spoke of the lofty mountains back home and their way of life and described passionately some fierce tantric deity called Demchog who along with someone called Dorje Phagmo stayed on one mountain of theirs called Khang Rimpoche. Then, some Indian students would put in their bit about their deities Dakshinamoorthy and Uma Parvathi. Some others would talk about their holy mountain Ashtapada something. Can't remember the details. But I recollect secretly comparing notes of all their entertaining stories and finally chuckling to myself when I realised they were all talking about the same phenomenon differently..what I know as Mount Meru or Mount Kailash. I've had some super fun time with my vast family
who were like the many-hued flowers in my garden. They came to learn what they called Buddhist studies, also fine arts, medicine, math and surprise - astronomy! These were for the quieter, more inquisitive ones. But there was no dearth of other ambitious types who came to study politics and the art of war. The balance was perfect. Our family was ever expanding. So our resources had to expand too. The scholars got my library stocked with texts and literature from all corners of the world..whatever they could get their hands on. They stocked nine storeys full of study material and the students simply flocked to my library. You see, back then there were no malls and cinemas, which I am told are your favourite social places. Plus, they had great examples of scholars they wanted to be like. Their heroes did not hail from any wood- bollywood, hollywood etc. Not that it is wrong. Nope. But such were the times. And after having read through the texts, they would
hold debate sessions which were very interesting. Multiple points of view on the same teachings..everyone had a jolly good time! Then, what happened, came quite suddenly. Everybody was running around saying something about invaders and someone called Bakhtiyar Khalji. No idea who they were. But they were an angry lot and had a go at my library..which burned for days at a stretch. There was smoke and commotion everywhere. I couldn't see where everybody fled to. Then, I just took a break and went underground for a while. But these new age historians or archaeologists dug around and got me out. I guess they thought I'd had enough of rest. But hey, am I glad to see the light of day and you. You're a bright lot. You talk on your cellphone and I'm told someone in Tibet or China can hear. You must've been really busy figuring out such fun stuff all this while that I've been asleep. I'm told you've figured out new modes of education, through some devices called satellite and video cameras, and then teachers and students can be miles apart. But I don't know how to feel about that. If I were you, I'd miss seeing my students in person, smiling and sharing their stories with me. I don't know how it will be if I have to hear them from miles away. And if they don't come to see me and live and share with everyone, how will that be, I don't know. Oh, it's a new age..I have to let go of my old ways. There are always groups of scholars coming to visit me often these days. I hear them talk of putting me back on the pedestal, or something like that. Whatever it may be, I feel the days of good fun are round the corner. And you'll all have new stories and new adventures, and to keep pace with your faster lives, I'm going to have to put my running shoes on. Come my friend, I've had my say. Why don't you write in now and share your stories with me? Who knows, one day maybe, we'll all be on my new-avatar campus together..under the same old stars and the same old sky, sharing new stories, living and learning as one blooming lotus family.
Pictures : Google Images
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