Month: June 2018

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Berkeley’s Divas of Bharatanatyam

Church and Sunday sermons go together, but this event at the charming St. John’s Episcopal church in Berkeley took a leaf out of a different Bible, the Natya Shastra, the ancient treatise for India’s classical performing arts. The stage was given over to a performance of the classical dance of Bharatanatyam, by students of Aggie Brenneman’s school, the Bala Center for South Indian Dance. Church might not be the first place you would associate with a Bharatanatyam recital, but this was free spirited Berkeley, where several world traditions overlap in vibrant harmony, and one can choose to be joint citizen of as many as appeal to the soul.

The occasion was to celebrate the legacy of Tanjore Balasaraswati, or Bala, India’s legendary doyenne of the Tanjore school of Bharatanatyam. This year marks Bala’s birth centenary, which is being commemorated by aficionados of dance and music around the world. In her landmark tour of the United States in the early sixties, the New York Times fittingly christened Bala as the ‘First Lady of Bharatanatyam’ who ‘spoke through dance’. This supreme artiste went on to teach and train several dedicated American students, who took to the world of this classical art form with an enduring commitment and sincerity. Today, many of them are divas in their own right, continuing to carry Bala’s legacy forward. And here was one of Bala’s finest students, Aggie, offering tribute.

The crowd for this Sunday afternoon was a lively and cheery lot. It comprised all ages, from infants and toddlers to parents and elder folk, making for a family outing as much as a recital of dance. Among them of course were serious students and enthusiasts of dance, all ready and eager for the program to commence.

The opening featured the traditional invocatory piece, the alarippu, (flowering bud), in the rhythmic 3 pulse gait of tisram, performed by eight senior students of Aggie. They set the tempo well, their coordinated rhythms showing even in this brief piece that they were dancers of promise.

The next, also invocatory piece was the Natesha Kavutvum, in praise of Nataraja, the Lord of Dance. Two of Aggie’s students held the audience’s interest with their pacing and beautiful poses of the Ananda Tandava, the cosmic dance of creation.

Cute little ankle bells jingled on cuter little feet for the next piece of the show, as six of the youngest students of the school, none a day older than six, stepped gingerly on stage. This had to be their first time in front of a group of any size, and they had to both introduce themselves and tell a couple of lines of the story of Krishna they were going to enact. Their first piece was a sequence of basic adavus, or rhythmic steps, set to the music of a popular devotional song, the Thullu Matha in praise of the Lord Muruga. Even as they danced their petite little steps, the manner in which they stole quick glances at each other to ensure they were all synchronized was most amusingly charming.

Next, they enacted the famous episode of the child Lord Krishna perched atop a human pyramid of his naughty companions, aiming for the forbidden butter in a pot hung high and out of reach. As the plans unravel, Krishna the butter thief is caught and reprimanded. Entertaining as only children can be, the reprimand these kids dealt the child Lord lighted up everyone in smiles. As the row of little anklets trooped off stage, they received roaring applause.

A set of seven kids from the after-school program came on stage now, first for a devotional invocation piece, followed by the recounting and enactment of another episode from the life of Krishna. The episode this time was Krishna the teenager’s teasing of the blue-eyed maidens by making off with their clothes even as they bathed in the river. The unspeakable naughtiness of the prank, with the vociferous protest of the maidens and the air of indifference from the flute playing teenager, were all portrayed most delightfully.

Kids, indeed, played their cute part from the audience as well. One positioned himself in the center of the aisle, providing comic relief by keeping time and beat with the goings on. Another kept time jumping, while a third attempted an inverted pose in trying to mimic the poses on stage. Little girls skipped around in paavadais, their hair braided with flowers. This could well have been a concert in an Indian sabha.

The next piece, by a group of five older kids, showcased a slightly more involved dance sequence for the devotional song, Ra Ra Rama. The coordination that comes easier to older children was much in evidence here. They then proceeded to dance the Ganapati Kavutvum, in praise of the elephant headed deity Ganesha, involving a faster tempo of steps. The hand mudras (gestures) depicting Ganesha’s trunk that made short work of obstacles, his playing of cymbals, and his large flapping ears, were particularly endearing.

The next piece had an unusual cast of two mother-daughter pairs on stage. They first performed a different version of the Ganapati Kavutvum, and then went on to a slightly more elaborate piece, the Jatiswaram. The dances were now more intricate, and the performance climbed steadily to match. Other older students then performed the Vallacci, a dance story encapsulating the search for the divine in the search for human love. The more nuanced head movements came into play now, keeping step gracefully with a decidedly more energetic tempo, and evincing meritorious talent.

Inspiring teacher, devoted student: Aggie Brenneman (R), with Evelyn Leong (L)

The piece that followed was a surprise treat, and a lovely one, not originally announced in the schedule. Aggie now came on to stage herself, to enact an episode from the story of the medieval saint Nandanar, where the view of his favorite deity Lord Shiva from outside the sanctum is obscured by the large statue of a bull.

Aggie’s performance shone with an exemplary classicism. All graceful flow, she portrayed the human element of the story with a surpassing emotion, bringing vivid glimpses of her legendary teacher. The high vocals that accompanied this piece were a recording of renowned vocalist T. Muktha, complementing the dance perfectly. We were witness to a remarkable tribute in spirit.

Six of the most accomplished of Aggie’s students brought up the final performance of the evening. They included, among others, the evergreen Evelyn Leong, upcoming teacher Deepa Natarajan and promising debutante Ruby Spies. The skillful portrayal of the Sakhiye varnam, where a love stricken woman confides in her friend, entreating her to trace and bring her back her beloved, visibly moved hearts. The piece was replete with abhinaya, the evocative communication of sentiment that marks depth of maturity in classical Indian dance. These were certainly students in the pursuit of excellence.

It is over thirty years now that the legendary T. Balasaraswati has passed on. The legacy she has left, however, is one of a living passion for dance. Aggie’s students range from the under seven to the over seventy. The audience could clearly sense the spark in them, as they went back all on stage for a final bow, evoking grand applause. And Bala, taking in the scene from wherever she might be on the celestial stage, would have surely leapt for joy.

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Embrace of Love

Nestled in the rolling hills of San Ramon county, California, the MA center is a pleasant and readily accessible haven of spiritual retreat. The landscape might remind one of a quaint little Himalayan ashram, but this lovely sanctuary lies less than an hour away from the heart of Silicon Valley.

Shaped by loving hands, the place certainly seems to be getting prettier every year. I notice new organic gardens and fruit trees. Signs strung with marigold flowers welcome us as we drive up the winding road leading to the main retreat enclosure. The center’s most anticipated event of the summer is about to get underway.

Amma has come to visit.

Several volunteers have worked long hours behind the scenes, preparing for the hundreds of people who have started to trickle in very early this morning. Hosting a retreat on this scale is no easy feat. Scores of parking assistants, kitchen staff, shop volunteers, dining hall helpers, ushers and stewards have all come together in a spirit of seva, or service, ready to help unfold the retreat.

Their inspirer-in-chief, of course, is Mata Amritanandamayi, or Amma as she is popularly known. If the measure of a leader’s impact is reflected in the joie de vivre in her followers, Amma is easily one of the leading spiritual lights of our times. Over the decades, her name has come to be synonymous with her mission of selfless love and service to the world. Her following cuts across boundaries of race, religion and nationality to comprise a truly global spiritual family. Aside from her exemplary charitable initiatives, Amma is also most popularly associated with her unique gesture, the embrace of love she offers everyone who comes seeking darshan, or the blessing of her spiritual presence.

Arriving early, I still had to park a distance away, giving me the chance to enjoy a scenic walk back to the main staging area in the crisp air of the morning. The crowd gathered was numbering in the hundreds already. Friends met and caught up with one another. First time visitors were formed into their own special line, for an early chance to have Amma’s darshan and receive her hug. A jolly mood prevailed, lightening the wait under a bright morning sun.

Shortly, the lines were taken up to where alphanumeric tokens were dispersed for Amma’s darshan, by the entrance of the main retreat hall. We went in to seat ourselves. There was still some time before Amma would come in to address everyone. A documentary showcased the far-reaching impact of ‘Embracing the World’, the umbrella banner for Amma’s several charitable initiatives worldwide.  Several stalls lined the side and back of the hall inviting people to explore their wares. On offer were eco-friendly clothes, blessed jewelry, incense and fragrance, pictures, books and music. More stalls were open outside, including one that displayed a whole lovely range of crystals. Crystals seem to be an integral presence today in almost every spiritual mandala.

A vibrant market of joy got going, but we were soon back to our seats, as Amma presently made her entrance, welcomed with a traditional invocation to the guru or spiritual teacher. The assembly rose in reverence as she walked up to stage, raising folded hands to everyone in namaste. She was soon seated amidst her entourage of swamis (monks), and several kids and adults who were invited to join her on stage, making for a cute family picture.

Amma spoke in Malayalam, with one of the swamis on stage translating for the benefit of the audience. Her theme for today was one of cultivating an essential fragrance as we go about daily life. If our thoughts were selfless and our actions kind and responsible, we would bring a natural fragrance to every situation we encountered, which would also buffer us from untoward circumstances.

A short meditation later, the stage was now rearranged for Amma to commence darshan. Seating in the audience was rearranged as well, to make space in front for a live orchestra, whose talented musicians embarked on a wonderful set of chants, songs and prayers. People queued up on stage according to the sequence of their tokens, as Amma, now occupying her asana or seat, began to hug each person in turn. A light yet palpable sweetness hung in the air. As each person came up, Amma held them for a few moments in an embrace of beautiful sincerity, sharing a personal moment of spiritual togetherness. Many also sensed a spiritual transmission.

The sheer scale of Amma’s profound gesture boggles the mind. Seated untiringly for hours on end, taking no breaks, she is there to ensure each of the thousand, frequently many thousands of visitors receive the embrace they so look forward to. We were witness to spirituality in action, of steadfast intent joined with genuine love, with an intensity rarely found anywhere else.

What might be attracting these multitudes of people from across the world to bask in her presence? Amma is certainly no scholar of a sophisticated philosophy to engage the ego of erudition. Her hug is certainly no mere feel good gesture of emotion. Perhaps it is the joyous mood she exudes as much as her air of reassuring calm. Perhaps it is people getting a glimpse of their own high spiritual destiny which her presence helps mirror for them. Perhaps it is the sense of pure and timeless presence she so naturally embodies.

Among the many people in the darshan line that afternoon was Ash Kalra, member of the California legislature. It happened to be a day of statewide direct primary elections, but he was taking time out along with his deputy to visit and welcome Amma to California. Post darshan, one got to converse with him for a few minutes. Surveying the huge and joyous throng of people, Ash reflected sagely that these were precisely the types of people we needed to come out and vote. We needed the energies of love represented in the ballot, in contrast to the energies of divisiveness and hate. A lady in the audience, who happened to also be a former member of the legislature, joined in the conversation, echoing similar sentiment.

Philosopher Teilhard de Chardin has written eloquently about love. “The day will come when, after harnessing space, the winds, the tides, and gravity, we shall harness the energies of love. And on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, we shall have discovered fire.” Amma, for her devoted following, is an embodiment of the sacred energies of love.

There have of course been other extraordinary spiritual masters from the East who have made no less of an impression upon America. More than a century ago, Swami Vivekananda had captured the American imagination as he paved the way for the arrival of Eastern spirituality on Western shores. The great disciple of Sri Ramakrishna and his spiritual consort Sharada Devi spoke of dynamic will and nerves of steel, delivering a message of leonine strength and fearlessness, which he felt was the positive need of the time. A century and more later, however, the message from Amma, while of very same essence, is clearly in the spirit of Sharada Devi, of the Motherliness of the Divine.

It is almost fifty years as well since the Summer of Love, during which time the West has readied itself for the touch of the Mother. India has produced women of spiritual genius aplenty, but few of them have taken their message beyond its shores. In this Age of Aquarius though, it is Amma who has carried the tradition of the divine feminine to a world thirsty for love. And the crowds were there to catch a glimpse, a touch and a hug from their beloved Mother.

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Crystalline Fugue

I have always been fascinated with the potencies of sound, especially its use in healing therapies. Wind chimes, bell choirs, the sounds of flowing water, mantras and music…all of these, at some level, carry the potential for healing. Working with sound can filter deep into our consciousness, eliciting response from our own inner rhythms of body and mind.

It took little prompting therefore to show up, recently, for an introduction to healing with crystal bowls. The session was announced at Aum Aradhana, in a consecrated hall of beautiful images and sacred art. Vaidyaji Priyanka was hosting the lovely duo of Dixie and Saryon, and their ‘family’ of healing crystal bowls. It promised to be, at minimum, an interesting afternoon.

The first thing that struck me was Dixie and Saryon’s intimate connection with their crystal bowls, of which there were easily two dozen or more. You could sense the bowls being spoken to, with care, love and sensitivity, as the couple went about sounding and tuning them, while the class prepared itself into a state of quiet receptivity, eyes closed for an experience of immersion.

The notes from each bowl would correspond to the sounds of particular chakras, or the seven primary energy centers of the subtle body. As each bowl was sounded, its note, beginning at a lower octave would go on to generate overtones in the higher octaves, and sounded in succession, a concert of crystal bowls was soon in full swing. A pulsating ensemble of purest notes of sound now wafted in and out of auditory center stage, dramatically interwoven with sounds of the Ancients sung by Vaidyaji. As the voices seamlessly spoke to the bowls, the audience heard the spray of the Vedic ocean.

Like a flock of birds alighting now on one branch, then on another, then on a third branch of the legendary wish fulfilling, blessing tree (Kalpa Vriksha), the notes jumped and straddled the scales of the musical octaves. Waves of sound washed over the crystal bowls and the audience in turn, taking on a life of their own. The effect was beyond words. The sounds were doing their work of harmonization on the inner rhythms of each individual’s unique energetic constitution. Some people felt energized and vivified, while others reported a feeling of heightened balance and calm, as internal energies aligned in the different organs of the body that required adjustment and healing.  The musical ensemble then paused briefly, while the class was presently introduced to some interesting suggestions.

Saryon explained that the sounds emanating from these precious bowls frequently served as a bridge of communication with angels. Higher Beings, attuned to these sounds, would send messages of guidance and blessings, riding the waves, which could be intuited if we were receptive enough. Also, we would now complement the sounds of the crystal bowls with our own voices, for greater vibrational potency.

A second session followed, this time with several sonorous voices, led by Dixie’s, singing the mantra of Lord Shiva. As Dixie’s hypnotic chants ascended the scales, like wisps of incense rising in a quiet room, one had the feeling of angels transporting her pure vocals into the stratosphere, merging beyond into pure silence. This was the palpable experience of unstruck sound, or anahat nad, also sometimes referred to as the eighth note, or aathvan sur. The vibrations of the bowls would persist, even if one was no longer able to hear them, continuing their work of healing for a long while after. The Gurukul continued to meditate deep into the profound stillness.

Further sessions followed, where there were chants synchronized with hand gestures (mudras) from the ancient science of Kaya Kalpa, to amplify the effect of the bowls and the vocals. The vocals were poetic Sanskrit invocations to health and all noble and desirable qualities. At other times, Buddhist prayers of refuge were chanted, invoking the blessings of the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha.

The class was then let on to a truly intriguing suggestion. We might think we were playing the bowls, but the reality was that the bowls were actually playing us, bringing us their gifts of healing. Interesting as it was, this shift of perspective brought in me a profound relaxation and a deep contemplation of gratitude. There was indeed an entire world of angelic forces that were transmitting through sound, well beyond the realm of intellect.

It is true that all of life is essentially an exchange and interplay of vibrations. Healing happens through vibrational harmony of the inner and the outer, the micro with the macrocosm, the best condition for which is inner purity. It is no wonder then that in all of the world’s ancient healing traditions, crystals have played a significant role. Clarity, purity, transparency, luminosity, magnificence…these are qualities nature has vested in crystals and precious stones, making them beautiful vehicles for the work of transmission and healing. Sound, and especially sound with pure intention, can impact the molecular structure of water, the body’s most abundant element, transmuting it into crystalline purity for a somatic enlightenment.

This tryst with crystal bowls was transformative, opening new vistas for awareness. Certainly, an avenue worthy of further exploration.

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Retail Therapy

I am no scientist, but I do consider myself rational. I once even took a master’s level course on inventory and logistics. Rationality however can be an elusive phenomenon, especially when confronted with the temptations of Retail Therapy.

Years ago, I was strolling the aisles of a Ukrop’s grocery store, right next to the apartment complex I lived in, in Richmond, Virginia. Ukrop’s was a family owned chain of stores, where I made frequent errands for precisely what I needed, which in those days of blissful simplicity, could be for even as little as a single bag of chips. On this particular occasion, I was weighing my choices between a small bottle of pretty Himalayan pink salt, and next to it, a large Morton’s salt jar. Health conscious, organic me would have normally opted for the Himalayan salt, but for a minute I dithered. Pinch for pinch, I calculated the Himalayan pink salt would cost several times over the Morton salt, and there was also family due to visit soon, who couldn’t care less, among all things, for dilemmas over table salt. My economical brain thus prevailed, but just as I reached for the Morton salt, I had my first comeuppance.

‘Don’t take that’, a voice rang out, in Gujarati, as a short and stocky lady puffed up to me, grandmotherly concern writ large on her face. ‘There’s a sale going on in Costco, where you can get 5 of these same jars for a dollar. Be not taken in by the pretty lights of this store!’

I was a combination of miffed and amused. What would I do with 5 salt jars? Have salted tea? Elderly ladies can sometimes give you the most insistent, yet ridiculous advice, but you only take them on at your own peril. In this case, this was easily the most harebrained proposition I had heard in a while, or so I thought. But I decided against voicing my reaction, and told her instead that I would surely checkout Costco sometime.

Several major retail conglomerates dot the modern American economic landscape, and among them are a few who have helped shape whole new paradigms in consumer buying behavior. In the world of bulk buying, I was soon to discover, Costco is king.

Shortly after the encounter with the Gujarati lady’s advocacy, I was on a long afternoon road trip in California, while also looking for roses to bring to a dinner party later in the evening. ‘Find the nearest Costco’, a friend advised, even as I had a 4 hour drive ahead of me. ‘They stock lovely red roses, and you’ll get plenty more roses than from a local florist for the same price’. With quite a few social occasions slated over the next few months, I decided this would be the impetus for my plunge into the world of buyer’s club shopping.

At 55 dollars per annum, I knew I had to make the Costco membership pay for itself. And it didn’t disappoint. Several times in the subsequent months, I went to buy big bunches of red roses. And then one day the same friend called out of the blue to say there was a Costco deal going on with innerwear. In an impulse bout of bulk buying, I carted dozens of sparkling white vests and briefs. I had managed to find the break even, or paisa vasool as they say in India, for the cost of membership. It was in fact a truly economic order quantity, I consoled myself, except with a restocking frequency of 10 years and more. One could, hopefully, still emerge rational in the long run.

Till the day I discovered that you could do even better by sharing costs of membership, or better still, piggybacking, if your purchases were occasional, on the generosity of a friend. I have since been lucky enough to do the latter.

Just last month, I needed to get some vases and plants for my front porch. After considering several local stores, we found that Costco might have the best deals. So piggybacking on my friend’s membership, a group of us embarked on a ‘Costco Run’. Not surprisingly, we were not the only ‘buyer gangs’.  One could see several gangs of software geeks trooping in along with us, ready for their slice of adventure.

Yes, the conquest of shopping can satisfy as much as the conquest of a peak, or similar such adventure sport, for the majority. Retail therapy is indeed the great American adventure of modern times, especially during the weekends, when enthusiasm understandably surges high. Conducted on terra firma, amongst fluorescent aisles in the safety of the indoors, this is a sport almost everyone can indulge in.

By the Costco entrance, one could see families wheeling in their kids in shopping carts that are wide enough to seat two kids at once. The difference, on the way out, is usually that the same kids are now precariously positioned over endless cartons and boxes, and may even have to perch atop their family SUVs on the ride back home. Outside, new tires are readily available should you want to replace your old worn out ones, especially considering the gargantuan bulk of what the typical shopping expedition ends up with.

Entering the store, one feels one has just come through the gangway of a major ocean liner that has docked at port, stacked with its trove of mercantile treasures from halfway round the world. Row upon shining row of goods can be found stacked on shelves impossibly high. You might do well to come in with your own tall ladder, should you intend exploring the upper decks of the ship.

A trained eye can easily sort out the seasoned shoppers from the novices. The novices, or ‘Costco virgins’, spend their time gaping at the promotions on display, usually in the front section of the store, or by the checkout. They are the ones who have made the brave (and grave) mistake of barging in without a shopping list. The optometry section right upfront offers help to such folks, ensnaring them with every imaginable kind of lens so they might be able to shop and impartially succumb to all deals with clear vision. As if that might not be enough, there are rumors of soon to be introduced Costco retrievers, dogs trained to help you navigate to the juiciest deals store wide, cutting through all the crowds and confusion. The catch? True to Costco spirit, you’ve got to bulk engage a dozen of them at one go. Which is as well, considering one might have a sledge of goods to check out with, having come in not knowing what to buy in the first place. The longer you linger around, the more enticing your shopping discoveries, and the bulkier you will return home.

We were of course predetermined with our shopping plans for the plants and vases, and happily, found a couple of enormous, yet beautiful blue vases from Japan. The plants and pottery section was indeed stocked with some great items for home decor. We then headed for the excellent selection of organic fruits, chips and other snack items which have now become a mainstay for the grocery business.

But if you did not quite know what to get, and came in with an ‘open list’, the treasures of the Costco universe are endless. There’s dog food to feed all the dogs in town, strays included. There are enormous sized hiking pants that can make excellent gifts for any grizzlies you might invite over to your campfire. There’s organic maple syrup that could represent the output of a large Canadian forest. Enough laundry detergent to wash all global politics clean. Batteries to power your home for the next decade, and endless arrays of diapers and toilet paper. Thankfully, if you belonged to a shared buying team, bulk scale is less of an issue, especially when settled through the wonder app, Splitwise.

One has to wonder, however, what all of this humongous retail therapy portends philosophically for happiness. In terms of sheer scale, I would not be surprised if we found out that the annual business of a single Costco store could be about the same order of magnitude as the GDP of Bhutan, the tiny modern Shangri La which prefers to measure Gross National Happiness over GDP.

In this case, we should perhaps then look for the happiness afforded from Costco shopping and see how it compares. The happiness of the Bhutanese stems from lightness of possessions and simplicity, and of course, pristine mountain air and fresh tasting jam.  Americans, by contrast, can buy the equivalent of the average Bhutanese’s annual purchase, from a single visit to Costco. At least in the immediate aftermath of such a shopping expedition,  their finances become modest, and a content frugality settles in.  Overall happiness might thus turn out quite comparable. Especially if you owned stock in Costco, which would allow you to have your cake and eat it too.

Bhutan still beckons though, and we must explore it some day. Hopefully before the advent of Costco in Bhutan.

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Transcending Dance

The crowd began to stream in quite early at the San Jose Center of the Performing Arts, the hallways soon a chattering buzz of anticipation. They had come to witness renowned actress and danseuse Shobana’s latest production, Trance – Dance of Drums.

Nestled well and comfortably in their seats, the performance commenced precisely at the appointed time. Two mesmerizing hours later, the enthralled audience rose to its feet in generous and sustained applause. The masterful performance had impressed even the most seasoned of the cognoscenti to the very core.

The word trance can suggest several nuances, but the hypnotic rhythms and sounds that strung through the evening’s many acts transformed the stage into a space of swirling energy. The themes were chosen for their universal import, starting with the Dasha Mahavidyas, the 10 Tantric wisdom goddesses. This was no dainty ballroom dance, but a startling, unsettling, dynamic immersion into the fathomless energy of Mahakali, the Goddess who is the devourer of time.

Vanquishing the ignorance which masquerades as evil with her sword, challenging all limiting conventions, Kali stormed the stage with an electric tension, the haunting background score of the Kaapi raga heightening the charged atmosphere. Depicted also as the South Indian goddess Mariamma, Kali’s inebriated sway and dominance of stage was a searingly authentic portrayal of the inscrutable, often implacable aspects of Reality. No sooner had it come to a peak of intensity though, than the tempo turned swiftly into one of Kali’s reassuring protection and grace. The soothing notes of Nilambari and Shankarabharanam now accompanied the dancers’ exquisite hand mudras, reminiscent of blossoming lotus flowers. The audience by now had its appetite whetted.

If the first act saw a supine Lord Shiva struggle to catch a glimpse of the Goddess’s crimson feet, the next act showed the Lord coming into his own, first in eternal play with Kali and a host of yoginis. Shiva as Tripurantaka, destroyer of the three citadels of evil, emerged ultimately as Nataraja, Lord of cosmic dance and rhythm. A glorious sequence of poses culminating in Nataraja’s cosmic pose with raised foot will remain imprinted in memory.

God and Goddess acknowledged, the next act celebrated the divine romance of Radha and Krishna, as immortalized in the lyrical poem, Lalita Lavanga. The infatuating environment of the spring season, Radha’s pining for Krishna even as he frolicked in the forest with the other smitten maids of Vrindavan, followed by Krishna’s atonement and subsequent charming and entrancing of Radha…all of these classical themes left the audience in rapture.

The next segments of the show, we were now informed, would highlight interfaith themes of religious harmony, and especially of lesser acknowledged yet great women mystics from various traditions. First in sequence was the story of the Buddha. This was much like an abridged version of Edwin Arnold’s classic ‘Light of Asia’, enlivened with form and movement, chants and voice, color and light. Particularly poignant was the episode of the prince Siddhartha’s renunciation, and his brave surmounting of the dragons and dangers of the spiritual path. The steps and musical scores suggested a distinctive Asian influence, including hypnotic chants of the Tibetan and Japanese mantras of compassion and surrender. The dance itself seemed to melt into a living stream of compassion.

The story of Bibi Nachiar, the Muslim princess and exemplary devotee of Lord Krishna, was depicted next, in a flowing fusion of Sufi and Bharatanatyam dance styles. The devotional element was highlighted by some soulful Sufi Qawwali music and the strains of the Carnatic Rangapura Vihara in equal and delightful measure. The choreography, in addition, proved to be an unforgettable visual treat.

No less impactful was the next piece about Mary of Magdala, the ‘apostle of apostles’, and her tale of great devotion to the prophet of Nazareth. Set against a backdrop of Mediterranean visuals and the life of Jesus, the dancers did a stellar job of bringing home the high spiritual stature of Mary Magdalene. Magdalene’s pure devotion made her the first person to whom the Lord Christ revealed himself after his resurrection. Through these remarkable stories, the audience received a sense for the universality of aspirations to Truth, and its genuine manifestations across varieties of religious practice.

The crowning highlight of the evening was the entrancing ‘Dance of Drums’, a celebration of the pure potency of sound. The audience was treated to a panorama of different percussion traditions, with Shobana’s astonishing drumming talents providing further confirmation of her astonishing versatility. For a few charming minutes, she invited them to keep step with her captivating percussion chants from the various regional styles of India, and across the world, getting everyone to partake in the flow.

The rest of the dance cast were no less impressive. The live orchestra comprising Prithvi Chandrasekhar on the keyboard and Anantha R. Krishnan for percussion provided excellent support, and were good enough to host an evening on their own. The jugalbandi playoff with the live orchestra, as well as the delightful interweaving of dance snippets and styles from around the world was a high point. This was truly the dance of sound competing for honors with the sound of dance, the creative expressions of these artistes of extraordinary endowment. The final piece was an energetically paced yet soul stirring rendition of the Hanuman Chalisa, an offering to herald ultimate auspiciousness.

The harmonious blending of visual imagery and vocals, electronic embellishments and traditional styles was a feat of perfect orchestration for the evening as a whole. Above all, Shobana had, with her vivid stage presence and genuine passion, succeeded in communicating something of the esoteric essence that underlies all true art. Hers was indeed, in the beautiful words of Tagore, the dance that is ecstatic meditation in the still center of movement.

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A Wedding of Indian Hearts

‘Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani’…

Early summer is prime wedding season in India, and childhood memories of summer weddings are of throngs of people, elaborate ceremonies, pranks with cousins, and overwhelming feasts. The typical wedding lasted three, sometimes even four days from start to finish, almost like the timeless train journeys of those days from one end of India to the other.

Decades later, and continents apart, I went last month to a wedding of Indian diaspora friends in California. The nuptials lasted a tidy seven hours, mirroring today’s airplane journey time from Pennsylvania to California, home bases of the families involved. The India­­­n wedding in America has indeed morphed with the times. Happily, it has also retained the essence, adroitly blending past and present, every moment suffused with gaiety and joy.

Proceedings commenced early at the sprawling community center venue in Livermore, with a stream of Indian, Chinese and Western guests tucking into a welcome South Indian breakfast on a typically chilly California morning. Folks had certainly turned up in their Sunday finest, presenting a pleasing spectacle in their Conjeevarams and other elegant outfits. A call for the baraat party (the groom’s procession) rang out on the dot at 8:30 am, and a group of baraat enthusiasts soon gathered at the far corner of the grounds. From there, they danced their way to the main quadrangle amidst much tumult and revelry, even as a stiff breeze helped lift their Bhangra leaps a couple of additional inches into the air.

The wind in fact was brisk enough to blow a few scarves and shawls and sundry items over, prompting the waiting bridal party by the main altar to launch with gusto into the Sri Hanuman Chalisa, a popular supplication in praise of the ever auspicious deity Hanuman. No sooner had they sang it through, than the winds calmed into a gentle breeze, the sun peeped out, and the baraat party led by the groom and his parents arrived to enthusiastic shouts and songs of welcome from the bride’s family. The bride, in accordance with custom, waited indoors.

The ritual preliminaries now got under way, adhering largely to a South Indian format, with the bride and groom parties each represented by their own officiating priest. The priests invoked the blessings of the elements, praying for the success of the main ceremony, while the groom retired into a chamber for the next ceremonial act, the Kashi Yatra. The Kashi Yatra requires the groom, spurred by a last minute fit of renunciation, to embark on a pilgrimage by foot to Kashi, only to be stopped shortly by the bride’s father, and after some convincing, to relent finally to continue with the wedding. Kashi of course being in India, and the groom not quite equipped with either visa or airplane ticket, this Kashi yatra of California origins was not going to last too long. More laughter ensued when the bridal side’s priest counselled that the versatile bride was already one step ahead having visited Kashi earlier, and could certainly help make arrangements for a guided tour if he went through with the wedding!

Next came more sweet and fun preludes, the oonjal or swing ritual, with several ladies singing, dancing and celebrating around the couple seated on a swing, followed by the ‘maalai maatral’, an airborne exchange of multiple garlands between the couple, each hoisted on the shoulders of their respective supporters.

For the main ceremony, the bride, now looking radiant with joy, donned a traditional saree presented to her by the groom. The priests made sure to provide wonderful translations for many of the beautiful Sanskrit invocations, so all present could appreciate. The audience followed with heightened interest, making it a most user friendly nuptial ceremony to witness.

Vows exchanged, the groom vested the bride with the mangalsutra, the ‘cord of auspiciousness’ that would signify them man and wife. This was to be the first time the couple would hold hands…clearly the prevailing mores of earlier times, but with the priest quipping this surely was their first time in front of such large gathering of family! Congratulations flowed all round, and the couple came off the altar stage to walk down the aisle, receiving wishes from friends, and seeking blessings from the elders in the audience.

However pre-compatible the bride and groom of today may be with each other though, the actual moment of the mangalsutra remains one that transcends place and time. The son and daughter of timeless generations who have suffered and striven, rejoiced and loved for this blessed moment, beholding each other, ancestors pouring benediction from the far corners of the universe. Mother to be of countless future generations, their destiny being woven from the cosmic thread of this holy wedlock, gazing into the eyes of her knight in shining armor. Praying together that may there be no one in their line who would not come to realize the bliss of God. Promising to be tender and caring for each other, not for this life alone, but for seven lives in the future where they would, by traditional belief, continue to find and be wedded to each other.

The post wedding reception was no less memorable. The bride’s brother officiated as master of ceremonies, delivering brilliantly witty punches in a modern day version of the katha kalakshepam. His side splitting life advice to the couple and their equally humorous repartees regaled the crowd. The prince now proceeded to serenade his princess in mellifluous tones, accompanied by a high school buddy on the piano, and she seemed to approve, soon joining him in graceful step. Their friends from school, and all over the world, shortly took over the stage for a performance that could do a Bollywood professional dance troupe proud. This cool and hip generation can certainly excel at just about everything.

An exceptional luncheon culminated in an array of enticing vegan desserts, while easily surpassing the most scrutinizing standards of connoisseur’s tastes. The proceedings then dissolved into further dancing and merriment.

Everyone went away happy for having witnessed a joyous union of hearts.  This modern day Indian wedding, all of seven hours, was as complete and wonderful as it could be, in every sense of the word.