Mistaken, a totally mistaken identity!

“Being lesbian isn’t negotiable. And don’t even get started on how sexy it is to be with me or to watch me with another woman!” says Kali to Steve, her date, who has been set up by her brother, Rashid. Kali has dated every other “Hindu bloke in England” until her “brother got so desperate that he set her up with a cowboy!”

Sharon E Cooper’s ‘The Mistaken Identity,’ mostly mistaken to be “a play that one has come across somewhere and just can’t remember the playwright”, has been chosen to feature at the Rangashankara’s Festival of Comedies this year, for a platform performance. And for the very first time, young Bangalorean directors have been given a platform to stage these performances. A very bold script at the outset, this appears to have been intentional by the organisers – to let youngsters handle a subject this liberal because that they would best liberate the humour in such scripts. Good thing, the older lot would’ve cringed to portray oh-come-on-dont-you-do-it-too kinda things, would have unnecessarily edited the most crucial details and recklessly moderated the play to meet the tastes of the audiences.  Trust the younger lot to treat such subjects in all its rawness – rightly, should be so for open air performances. This would become a classic foor-in-mouth scenario should I come across a non-hypocratical, liberal, courageous ‘old’ bloke(you may add the ‘young’ mates also, for that matter).

Now, watching the lesbian-on-a-date play is one thing and acting the ‘oh-so-controversial-gutsy’ part is quite another. Obviously extremely thrilled to play Kali, I have been trying it all out – attempting to arouse feelings in me for women, struggling to be put off by good-looking men, believing in Michelle-the woman of my life, being inconsolably uncomfortable with Steve – all of these and a tad few more, to get right under the skin of the character. Not that I wear it on myself when I am ‘out’ of the character but its a mighty trying misery to resist a breath-taking looker passing by, if one strictly went the Method way.

While waiting at the edge of it, I am extremely eager to spill out my unknown energies to so many known faces!

Kali: Do you even know what it feels like?! How would you?”

Steve: No, I wouldn’t.

Living it up in seven days

I set out on a mission, to a dreamland called Heggodu. The small, little, unassuming village in the heart of the pristine green Saagara, near Shimoga. My mission was not so much about criticising the art on display but about what art does to artists. It was also an attempt to make the best use of the opportunity and get these renowned artistes talking – up, close and personal at the Ninasam Samskrutika Shibira. Ofcourse, the ardous task of tailing them, stalking them, dropping hints about why I was disposing such queer behaviour and then finally netting them to sheepishly admit to the pressures of my profession, was a mission in itself . But what came of these cloak and dagger efforts, is worth laying your life for.

Contributing to the brilliance of this experience, first of all, is the bafflingly modest amount of Rs1200 that you shell out chuckling, for as many as 7 days. You pay so much so that you live in their campus, devour their Malnad cuisine, be assured of classic entertainment every day (mostly evenings but the critiques passed in the morning during discussions lent a new dimension to entertainment itself and these memories lingered until several days later). Besides the food and entertainment, you are well assured of fresh, detoxifying clean air. But its the heady artiness about the place I think, that the air around Ninasam is steeped in tobacco rings. Those who quit, those who want to quit, those who are never going to quit and those who want to try it and quit later, are all seen puffing tobacco rings, while also periodically staining the walls red with pan and basically heightening the (in)toxication in the ambience.

There were toxins, intoxicants, heart-rendering theatricals, soul-stirring liltations, moon in all its fullness, cool breeze in all its vivacity and performers, who competed with their art. Relationships didnt matter, new faces and unknown identities didnt bother, languages and expressions didnt hinder communication.Nothing was an impediment when art was the sole medium of communication. Everything was just sending you into a tizzy. It was like you were on a constant high.

And my heart fluttered everytime I saw an actor/painter/singer perform, urging me to abandon my assignment for just this one time and simply sit back and enjoy, and simply just give in to the pleasures of being a mere viewer, a connoisseur and a keen passerby. But my conscience (mighty, bloody conscience) kept eating into me. My bargain was infected when soon after the performances, I knew I had to revert back to  my business. When all I wanted to do was hug the artiste and stifle him/her for that stupendous performance, I, the conscientious(!!!) journo had to raise intellectual questions surrounding art and its components, reducing the butterflies in my stomach to bugs buzzing in my head. I then began drawing a few conclusions, some assumptions and several theories about artists, more than the art.

It came to my realisation that art, in all its deportment, appears to be the gift of the few. While these few elite are steeped in art, do the masses peep over standing at its periphery, I wondered.

A couple of hundreds of litterateurs, actors, playwrights, painters, thinkers, philosophers, singers, dancers and a bunch of unpretentious connoisseurs from across the state, the country and a few from across the world had congregated to zealously lap up the essence of the festival. And here I was, stern on my assignment, wondering if the masses were out of it! Who are the masses here? Who are the intellectuals that have become the masses here? Twisted propositions haunted until more crucial events blazed before my eyes.

I learnt that for some, it was their tenth, for others, their twentieth, and for a few – their very first succulent feel of the Ninasam Samskruthika Shibira at Ninasam. I kept noting how an arty crowd adds a million bucks to its repertoire of art and culture fare with every performance, with every articulation in a discussion and with every new idea that makes a fleeting appearance in the mind.

But what joyful bliss this comprised – living together, singing, dancing, sharing poetry with one another and generally celebrating the spirit of life, while completely cutting off from the outside world, atleast at the outset. Predominantly, the relationship between the enlightened (the audience) and those who enlighten (the artistes) through the medium of (good) art, seemed to be taut with abstractness – the sensibilities involved here being inaccessible to the masses (for God’s sake) – who are out of reach of this secluded little village. That was very well the intention: To keep the pretentious arty intellectuals out of the loop.

KV Akshara, the director of Ninasam: “Conducting cultural activities in a little village like this is advantageous because there are no distractions. The participants and the audiences are forced to stay put in this campus throughout the festival unlike in Bangalore, where the participants would arrive for their performance and leave soon after. Besides, the expenditure incurred for the festival here is reduced by a hundred times, if compared to Bangalore. People offer to work voluntarily here – the whole community is involved. Nearly 80% of the work is unpaid.” Although not planned this way, it turned out to be so and became a conscious effort eventually, he added. Doesn’t it bother them that Ninasam, brimming with cultural activities does not always reach out to the urban populace, where the exposure can be manifold, I forced this on him: “We have deliberately shunned the media glare for the sake of our art. We have not organised a single press conference. We believe in word of mouth and are very happy with the response,” came the reply. Artistes of this sensibility would ofcourse shun the media! What were you expecting? That they swarm around media houses pleading for publicity and then, the scribes, peering through their microscopic hawk rimmed glasses, pick up the humblest and most successful, nicest and most approachable, the most well-read, the msot talented and the most good-looking artiste to ramble on a coupla pages?! Du-uh!

COMING BACK, one may wonder if confinement to a remote village stunts their exposure and interaction with other artistes around the world. But that appears to be the challenge they have passionately undertaken and are successful in dealing with and are even more successfully alluring people from all over. But when they do reach out to the masses, as a part of their Thirugaata, do they cater to the tang of the masses? Significantly, the motive of storytelling here is sheer entertainment – devoid of any arrogance associated with the status of conveying a strong social message. Message bearing plays, they believe, can be counter-productive because ego, politics and arrogance is played up.

So to speak, is critical appreciation of great art confined to those who make it in remote places like Heggodu? S R Vijayashankar, critic of Kannada literature points out: “Art has a strong influence of literature, where the meaning dominates. But remember, feeling is independent of meaning. Several meanings may emerge but they are only contextual. We are a pluralistic Indian society in a democratic set up. Opinions and varied meanings are inevitable.” The problem of literature, he said, was the struggle that one underwent to understand the meaning. The meaning obssessed mean crusaders may take a hike! Understand that meaning is necessary within a body – locating life within a body is necessary, and an artiste does exactly that – creating life as an experience, while being careful about not compromising on the art or himself, who is a part of the society, Vijayashankar explains. Can agree more on that. But that seems like a huge responsibility on the part of the artiste?  Aint that stressful, dude?!

No wonder they turn into melancholic loners. How then do they achieve such impressive, tight rope balance between art and social responsibility that requires remarkable dexterity? Vijayashankar explains: “Melancholy is only a state of mind that fluctuates to happiness. This rotation creates a constant churning – resulting in creation, which is best achieved in isolation. Isolation translates to personal time for introspection, where questions are posed on one’s position in life, asking – why me? This turns into an experience that in turn transforms into art.” Waaaah!

This also translates into the Gandhian philosophy of making one’s own place of birth meaningful. Ninasam, the dream of KV Subbana’s, the founder apparently has stemmed from this philosophy.

Its only but human that after such intense churning, the product becomes one’s proud possession and parting with it is painful. Remember pride, possessiveness and ego  – all intrinsic to the human being, living, existing. Divakar S, a writer clarifies: “Art is criticism – a fantasy of how life should be, depending on life’s experiences. Amongst the masses, there is always a need to understand everything. This arises from the popularity of mass education, where intellectuals are believed to be isolating themselves from the centre, depriving the crowd of scholarly experiences. It’s the arrogance of the harbingers of mass education – to want to penetrate and simplify art.” Popular entertainment exploits, presenting popular knowledge in a sentimental way, Divakar elucidates, while art explains and one needs patience to discern it. Lesser the patience, cruder the art, cruder the artist, cruder the receiver.

Is such patience then the invaluable business of only the elite few? Albeit this paltry number, they prove crucial for the representation of a civilization. “Art lends pulse to living, it is the only path to enlightenment. Trading and business does not. This explains why artists are considered to be elite,” says Sundar Sarukkai, Professor, School of Humanities, National Institute of Advanced Studies, IISc. “There are a zillion cultural activities happening in Bangalore every day. Amongst a gamut of activities for which people have no time, Bangalore, the urban business centre has an enormous space for culture too. How accessible or affordable are they to the rural lot?” Gotcha! Dont make a porridge of petty leaves, let the porridge be, no?

The act of confinement(to a place/community) to shoulder the responsibility of representing a civilization essentially becomes a cultural engagement that goes on to define the lifestyles of these very communities. “Culturally driven art in India, today, is threatened by consumerism. The problem is of excessively accessible art, that has begun to threaten the artist. Artists are in fact, a worried lot. What’s the complaint about inaccessibility?” questions Prasanna, former director of NSD and Rangayana and the brain behind Desi store in Bangalore. For an artist, it is important to “switch off” and “he has to isolate himself from the society and fierce bombardment of information that corrupts creativity.” Artists associated with intellectualism are then a result of constant engagement in “transcending the realities, not being trapped in it.” For God’s sake, stop penalising artistes with material queries.

The hardwork of intuition is the key word for an artiste here, not the incomprehendible jargons and redundant rhetorics. Daniel Goldman, director, Tangram Theatre, London, a participant at the cultural festival in Ninasam explains what an artist does with his art – what he does with theatre: “An artiste always has an audience in mind. His works mean to establish a chord with the audiences. The work is not produced in isolation while the ideation might have been in isolation.” The struggle to get as close to reality as possible looms large and “rests hugely on intuition.”  “Artists are constantly in a dialogue with the outer world, even as they are isolated. They are isolated since they have a lot of time, where they keep seeking answers to existential issues. A continuous association with reality, learning the truths behind it and transcending it causes intellectualisation –sensitivity and perceptibility is thus heightened,” he illuminates.

“A society consumes art that in turn reflects society. There is a huge web of relationships established. An artist establishes a relationship with his audiences with the act of story-telling, which forms the basis of the growth of a civilization,” Jehan Manekshaw, trainer of professional actors, Mumbai at Ninasam, says. The Brechtian alienation effect can then restrict itself to the theatre.

Why then does the common man sense alienation from artistes? Why is this pertinent question raised impertinently over and over again? “Understanding life in all its complexities is not easy. Internalising life’s experiences is perpetual hard work. To embrace art for a profession and not just for a hobby causes existential problems. How many can get out of their comfort zones?” Yatish, member of Thirugaata, Ninasam, throws light. “Life is brimming with art. Grab it, ignore it, hunt it, pursue it, its up to you to develop that sense.” Point taken.

Massive encounter!

Presenting to you, one of the most ‘candid’ conversations by most standards, in the history of conversations – by standards here, I don’t mean the intellectuality of the conversation or the person in question but the meagre extent of preparation for the conversation that set a certain standard – an abominable one! The interaction was candid because I thought I can and therefore I did. Yes, a candid conversation in that sense. That lame a can-did approach, this.

Before moving onto the can-did interaction, lets talk something more presentable: I was this blessed one, who was out there, to meet some achievers. This time, the national awardee for the best actress – Namma Kannada naadina Umashree. I prepared for several hours with feverish excitement. And, at Badami House, when I saw her walking towards her car after a felicitation by the Kannada Film Academy, I ran breathlessly to catch up. When I reached there, it was almost as if I wanted to first look at her from a distance for a while with awe, feel satisfied and then, take my time to collect myself, and talk. But, it had to happen all too soon. I ran and was I flattered or what, when she recognised my voice as I said Hello! Humility knocked me out. We met later again and sat down to discuss this actor’s journey. It was an interrupted interaction. While she spoke about her art, her approach to the art, her surrender to the art and so on, dozens of her colleagues butted in to congratulate her and sat down for atleast 15 minutes each, to chat. Meanwhile, I nervously looked around to see if I could get the names of all the actors around. She would then get back again, and continue… with her eyes dancing all around her face, as she narrated the story of Gulabni in Gulabi Talkies – expressive in every sense of the word. She can draw you into her world if you merely looked at her – and if at all from close quarters, the whole wide world comes picturesque before you. Oh c’mon who are we talking about, after all!

And later, in the melee of stars, I spotted a giant. I looked again and again and again – it was the giant indeed! What-did-I-just-see?! My photographer smiling at my bewilderment, confirmed – yes that IS the giant himself, he nodded! What should I do – run home, for I’ve done what I should have – call and tell who I just saw – no, no that would mean talking to the giant, or worse, interviewing him for tomorrow’s edition – why dint I know – what do I know now – who could help me – why me? HELP!!! I yelped!! And what happened in the next 20 minutes was a can-did conversation with who, dare I say – Prakash Rai (Raj) -

Can-did victim: You were pitted against Shah Rukh Khan and Aamir Khan – two giants of Bollywood. Are you happy you have beaten them both?

Candid Badshah: I have not beaten them. Prakash Raj cannot remove Shah Rukh Khan as an actor from his Chak De or Swades, nor can he take away Aamir Khan from his Taare Zameen Par. I cant take away Mohanlal from his movies either. Each one is a real good actor. The movie required each of us to portray our respective roles. Can you imagine Shah Rukh do a Kanchivaram or me do a Chak De? We are all a family and it just happened to be my birthday (smiles).

C-d V: What does the award mean to you?

CB: I am happy but I have many milestones to reach in life’s long journey. Most importantly, I happened to land in this film that demanded a certain performance from me. It turned out to be a more intense film that required me to render a certain performance and hence the award. Please, let me reiterate that I am not being modest about it. I am not saying it with any humility whatsoever. This is the stark truth. Kindly note.

C-d V: The Telugu film industry banned you. What went wrong?

CB: Yes, but things went wrong both ways. Both parties involved have made mistakes. But that does not make me discontent, neither has it stopped me. Remember, stones are thrown at trees that bear fruits. And my surname had stirred up controversies.

C-d V: Your forthcoming film is a remake of Abhiyum Nanmu. What is it about?

CB: This is my directorial venture. It is a Kannada film called Naanu Nanna Kanasu. I would not say it is about a relationship between a father and his daughter. Let us say, it is about the fact that while children grow up, fathers don’t.

C-d V: Your production house nurtures a lot of young talent. Any particular reason that you choose to go this way?

CB: I am not doing a favour by bringing in youngsters. It is very important to be relevant. I believe in multi-tasking and bringing out the multiple facets in me. I believe in youngsters, I believe they have immense talent and potential. My perception is that, I need to give back what I have acquired. I cant return the favour to the same people who brought me here. Its my way of taking it forward and expressing my gratitude.

C-d V: Are you a meticulous planner? What is next plan of action?

CB: I have no plan of action whatsoever. I believe in the journey of life. I am prepared to see the myriad horizons that the journey throws up. I simply, just go with the flow.

Going with the flow did he say – all greatnesses stem from going with the flow, I interpreted. Happy-lets-say-I’m-lucky, I left.

The Art of Yoga

When you talk working out, you mean sweat, blood, tears and a fee paid through your nose – all put into a couple of hours of furious huffing and puffing everyday. And this pursuit continues for months on end. One not-so-fine day, when you resort to the mirror-on-the-wall to play the impartial judge, and the mirror only but exaggerates the naked truth in front of you – right there in your face, you cant help but pull an awfully  long face, exasperated that your hardwork hardly paid! The damn flab is still there, promising its sincere, all-round committment to you every single minute of your beautiful life! Atleast in most cases, this is the result… Atleast in my case, I had lost hope.

And then, there was light. I met a flambouyant, ultra slim, super glamourous young-looking woman. She – Uma Gautam, disciple of Bharat Thakur led me right out of a tunnel of darkness in which I sat so disillusioned. She gushed: “Imagine losing all the ugly flab, attaining radiant skin and bouncy hair that the best brands may fail to offer. All these benefits have indeed been accrued by people before – all thanks to Bharat Thakur’s Artistic Yoga, the enlightened lot claim.”

Kareena Kapoor swears by it, Bipasha Basu, Rani Mukherji and now, Shahid Kapoor can’t do without it and we are witness to their perfect ten results. “Bharat Thakur has adapted Patanjali’s yoga to suit modern day people, while maintaining the prime goal of Yoga, by combining the five elements of flexibility, strength, endurance, agility and balance,” she said. She has been training under Bharat Thakur for ten years and is a senior trainer of artistic Yoga today. Bharat Thakur has employed all the traditional elements of Yoga which includes Bandhas, Kriyas and Suryanamaskar, aiming to break the monotony and thereby design a scientific programme for every session, she explained. The USP of artistic yoga is that it challenges all parts of the body and leaves it with no other option but to stay alert. Besides, the weight lost does not come back to traumatise you again. No lesser than a minute, I dreamed of enrolling into these magical sessions immediately to look bright, radiant and feel powerful very soon … but that exhorbitant gym membership snapped into my reverie and nagged the hell out of me.

“There is no need to go on a diet because that would mean controlling a symptom. Yoga goes to the core of the body and retrains it, fine-tuning the Basal Metabolic Rate (BMR),” she explained and how beautiful she was, how graceful, how deceptively young Yoga had made her look, I looked at her admiringly, getting enraptured by her soothing voice and graceful, dramatic movements and many a time, fascinated by her funny demonstrations of how people reacted to Artistic Yoga. And is this form any better or different from the others? “Yoga singularly steps up the Agni or the fire element in the body besides strengthening the ether body. Hot Yoga may be unnecessary because it further increases the fire element in the body and causes dehydration. Other forms such as Ashtanga Yoga, Hatha Yoga, Kundalini Yoga or Iyengar Yoga are only various approaches, with the same purpose,” she proceeded.

Yoga has gained more popularity than the gym these days. The determination to become like Kareena Kapoor or even better – with a more beautiful face most often, youngsters, including me(the youngest of the lot) believe that this is achievable. She explained, it works for everyone because it plays on the mind, body and soul. Her conviction had become mine as her words were playing on my mind, body and soul!

Lord Shiva, who we pray to and worship, was a human being, like you, me, your neighbour. Yes, the very same hunk of a God who drank poison, whose third eye can destroy the world, who adorns himself with serpents and ash – who we worship in our architechted temples all over the world. He was only an enlightened Yogi of this pragmatic world. He was a vagabond seer, who took shelter in the Himalayas and meditated for numerous years. It was he, who gave the Shiva Samhitha that we, today meditate on. His wife Parvathi was his ardent devotee. He married her, who alone understood his outlandish thoughts and coped with his unearthly behaviour. He was a ‘wise-crack,’ that a common man could not get along with or even understand. He was an intellectual outcast because his visions were unfathomable, unheard of. He had Yogic visions and thoughts that he went on to describe in his Shiva Samhita. None could make much of it, to a large extent, not even Parvathi. He went away to the Himalayas, for good, never to return again, to explore the enigmas of the human mind. He thus became God. Someone who disappeared into the clouds and into the sky – into Kailasa. He became the invincible God who initiated the people of our country into Yoga and Bharatnatyam. The Yoga sutra and the Natya Shastra were interpretations of the complex verbosity of Shiva.

Thus I was transported into atleast a million years ago, when Shiva lorded over the Himalayas. How sensuous an image and how logical a conclusion, I thought. It is all about believing in the power of the mind, isnt it? – she smiled, while I sat transfixed. I made up my mind, frantically took numbers from her and headed out feeling one with the universe. What was that interaction, man! Would Kareena Kapoor too be able to talk on those same lines? Can Yoga tweak the mind too?

A week later, after tucking my assignments in the cupboard, I headed for a session early in the morning. One hour later, I thought – wow, if I CAN do it, I MUST do it. And tomorrow, I AM starting it.

I caught up with a few at the session and the interaction  was, to put it simply, mind boggling.  25-year-old Rahul Jaisinghani, a full time trainer of Bharat Thakur’s Artistic Yoga in Bangalore, is a trained mechanical engineer, who was earlier employed with Bosch. He took a U-turn, pledging to take to Artistic Yoga as a way of life. “As expected, my family resisted initially but gradually there was acceptance and now, they are all interested,” he enthused. Pumping iron at the gym, he said was alright but Yoga approaches every individual who is a unique amalgam of the four dimensions of the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual, paying attention to each one’s individuality. “One burns about 100 to 600 calories in a single session of Artistic Yoga. There have been cases where 16kgs in 6 months have been shed off,” he said. Interestingly, he also added, “I wouldn’t instruct anyone to stop drinking and smoking. Remember, we are not using them, they, are using us. And dieting is only for discipline, nothing more to it. Don’t let cravings overtake you. Go on and indulge but be cautious to strike a balance.”

Shamira, from Pune, training to be a Yoga trainer in Bangalore had dabbled with several career options, until she settled with Bharat Thakur’s Artistic Yoga for a career. “I have been shifting careers, trying to seek something I wouldn’t be bored of. I know I have arrived now.”

Satish, a designer who has been practising artistic yoga for 6 months claimed that his life has changed altogether and he is able to embrace happiness. “I am not only physically fitter now but Pranayam has relieved me of unwanted baggage, making me an optimistic person,” he said, a tad emotional.

If time and resources permitted, I swear, I would have tossed queries to Kareena Kapoor and  learnt about her effects on her doting beau. As of now, I want it all. I am going for it . . . Especially after those mind-balsting revelations. Will keep you posted on the mostly mental metamorphosis on my part very soon, (physical will be reported 10 years later – I am a hungry wolf, remember? ) watch out

MSS – Saga of steadfast devotion to music

It was a befitting gift to Bharat Ratna Suswaralakshmi Subblakshmi, our MS amma on her 93^rd birth anniversary, as Bangalore Gayana Samaja, in association with Suswaralakshmi Foundation for classical music and performing arts released the book titled ‘‘MS and Radha – Saga of steadfast devotion’ written by MSS’ grand niece, Gowri Ramanarayanan. His Excellency Governor H R Bharadwaj did the honours. Other dignitaries who graced the occasion were MRV Prasad, President, Bangalore Gayana Samaja, who made the welcome address, Mutthur Krishnamurthy, director, Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, BK Chandrashekhar, former president of the legislative assembly and M R Srinivas, former member of the Atomic Energy Commission.

The evening commenced with the national anthem that was sung by MSS in 1963 at Edinburgh Music Festival.  The richness of her voice sends tremors down your body, demonstrating what purity – austerity can do. I was quivering, with tears flooding down my face. Collecting myself, I sat down, promising myself that I will listen to more of her. One emotional moment was followed by another – this time, a little more emotionally charged. MSS’ great grand daughter – a tiny-little, cute, smiling, cheerful cherub named Soundarya was to render the invocation. Until then, she was strolling about the stage, jumping onto her grandmother-Radha Vishwanathan’s lap, smiling ear to ear at every person who pinched her chubby cheeks and tried to make baby talk with her. It was a pleasant surprise that this four year old wonder was to sing. Her sweet baby voice sent the audiences doting over, whispering – its no wonder;  she will become like MSS one day; being MSS’ great granddaughter, it is natural to her! Most were smiling with deep, deep affection for the angel – she carried the rich legacy in her genes, the world adored her so much, while she still does not know who she really is, what struggles MSS really had braved.

The writer, MSS’ grand niece, Gowri Ramnarayanan could not make it, owing to illness, but MSS’ grandson, Srinivasan who was the master of the ceremony, read out her speech. He conveyed that the book was a realisation of her intimate experience with MS Amma, as an accompanying vocalist in the 1980s and the 1990s and as her grand niece, who has witnessed MSS go through hardships with tremendous resolve and faith in the power of the Almighty. For MSS’ devotees, every person associated with MSS is held in high esteem, and those from the family are akin to Gods. And to see  them in person, in flesh and blood, is attaining enlightenment. Reading about MSS written by her grandniece is sacred. Gowri Ramnarayan is awarded such a status – of a divine messenger.

The first copy of the book was gifted to Sitalakshmi Venkatesan, who was Radha Vishwanathan’s neighbour and friend. She, in all her humility simply wanted to buy the book and contribute her own bit to the Suswaralakshmi Foundation. A portrait of MSS with folded hands, like she were welcoming her beloved ones, was distributed to everyone on the dais, while those in the audience sat in envy – quite audibly. And, a  perfume called ‘Shankarabharanam,’- named after MSS’ favourite raga, also her favourite perfume, was gifted to Mrs Bharadwaj.  Srinivasan explained that, like music comprises seven basic notes, so does this perfume – it comprises seven different fragrances – woody rose, angel wing jasmine and  ashwagandha for the notes Shadja, Rishabha and Gandhara, mallige and lalchitrak for the note Madhyama,  and fresh thorny chrysanthemums and violet sage, for the notes Panchama, Daivatha and Nishadha.

It was a memorable, adrenaline rushing evening for those who were witness to the event, since a family of three generations after MSS were on the same dais. The auditorium, packed with mostly the loyal MSS fans and old Bangalore folks had promptly occupied the front seats of the auditorium well before time, with the programme list in hand, eagerly waiting for the legend’s legacy to arrive. There was a roarig applause, when Radha, clad in a bright coloured silk saree and a big round red bindi adorning her forehead, was brought on the stage on her wheelchair. She was beaming – several tones fairer than she was, when much younger, and paralysed on her right – crippled for life, unable to put the taalam to her raagas. She sat smiling, eyes gleaming as audiences waved at her, fell at her feet and clicked numerous pictures of her and her grand daughters’. It was clearly the photographers’ field day.

As the members on the dais recalled their experiences, the audiences were enthralled with the soulful journey they seemed to be undertaking. Having read the book, Mutthur Krishnamurthy noted, “MSS’ personality has been extremely well produced. The brilliant foreword written by Pt Ravishankar makes you nod in agreement as you read the pages furtheron. I advise you all to please buy this book. Reading about this ethereal, divine beauty is elevating to the senses.” And he recalled every incident that had brought him and his family closer to the great MSS.

M R Srinivasan, the renowned scientist commented, “Subbalakshmi was a great unifier. Through her idiom of music, she brought together the divisive forces  of our country. By merely listening to her, one is transformed into a noble human being.” Each time a dignitary spoke, he had to mention the ethereal quality of her innocent, malice-free, divinely radiant, immensely beautiful visage.

Talking about the uniqueness of the book, BK Chandrashekhar pointed out, “The book has some very interesting, rare pictures of MSS with prominent personalities. Everyone talks about her willingness to unify. This book points out that Sadashiv, her husband, was largely instrumental in transforming her from the depressing caste and community that she came from, and the orthodox values that were instilled into her as a child.”

The Governor, adding some humour said, “When I saw the diamonds she wore, I thought, she is indeed Lakshmi. But her single-minded devotion to music made her Lakshmi in every sense, we all know.” Ahem, yes yes Guvji, we, in teh audience agreed.

On that note, the concert of the evening commenced, with Vidushi Radha Vishwanathan performing after a hiatus of 15 years, mainly due to her illness. Accompanying her were Aishwarya (MSS’ 13-yr old great granddaughter for vocal accompaniment), CN Chandrashekhar on the violin, HS Sudhindra on the mridangam and Dayanand Mohit on the ghatam.

Just as they commenced a krithi on Lord Ganesha, proceeded to Sri Venkateshwara and then to Srimannarayana – a krithi in praise of Lord Vishnu, one of MSS’ most popular renditions, then to Meenakshi mem oddanthe, Jagadhodhaarana and so on, the audiences were nodding, looking at the large garlanded MSS’  picture every now and then, as if to say, wish you were here, we miss you, please come back! All of MSS’ popular, most often rendered, widely appreciated and greatly remembered krithis were presented.

Although Radha Vishwanathan was MSS’ daughter(Oh My God, what a relation to be in, with MSS), she wasnt the heir to MSS’ legacy. Not her, not her granddaughter.

A good friend of mine, looking at me regret said, “Once, a poet’s wife strived to compete with the poet’s poetry. And failure she encountered. She put her heart to it many a time but fail she did.”

Maya Bazaar, Aahaa!

If you have watched the 1940s make – Maya Bazaar in Kannada, Tamil, or even better, Telugu, you will enjoy this Telugu play Maya Bazaar immensely. It is exactly like the movie not only as far the script is concerned but the visual effects, costumes, music and the melodramatisation are astoundingly the same, not similar, mind you.

This two hour long mythological drama directed by Nageshwar Rao was performed by the troupe Surabhi, at Ravindra Kalakshetra, on 16th September 2009, the second day of the National Theatre festival – Bandano Banda Sawara, BV Karantha, to celebrate the 80^th birth anniversary of Padmasri BV Karanth. The play narrates the love story of Balarama’s daughter Seshirekha and his sister Subhadra’s son, Abhimanyu. While Balarama is keen to marry off his daughter to his nephew Abhimanyu, his wife, under the influence of Narada plans to marry her daughter to Duryodhana’s son Lakshman Kumar. Pressurized by his wife, he rejects the proposal. The rest of the story is about Abhimanyu conquering love with the help of his demon cousin Ghatodgaja, who uses his magical prowess. The USP of the play is creating maya on the stage – employing the limited elements of lighting, music, water and tons of creative impulse, on the part of the director. The whole set up reminds you of company nataka of yesteryears, when actors donned gawdy clothes and make up, songs were sung by the actors themselves, and were inserted in betweeen dialogues and back drops of realistic images were used to recreate the scenes. That, however did not mean the stage was not utilized fully. The vivid ways in which all parts of the stage were used to the fullest leaves you in sheer amazement. Also, the agility with which sets were changed at the snap of a finger keeps you thinking – Now, just how?

What leaves you jumping right out of your seats, clapping your hands gleefully, with your jaw dropping like it weighed a ton is, the fight between Ghatodgaja and Abhimanyu, where arrows literally spat fire on being fired and bombs actually blasted on being hurled. Also, like you were watching a war scene in Ramayana , the two opposing arrows were actually fighting tooth to tooth until the superior one burst into the other one, making the audience wonder if there was power transmittor had given way, in the auditorium! Also, when Abhimanyu shoots an arrow into the sky, it starts raining, yes water starts showering, to douse the fire. You can’t help but blink and pinch yourself, gasping at how you are witness to these wonders in real, god damn real life, with actors performing, literally creating magic. Seshirekha being lifted from her bedroom when asleep, to Ghatodgaja’s cave leaves you wondering if you are actually watching a movie that has used special effects. And, delicacies promptly leaping into Ghatodgaja’s mouth in the kitchen simply leaves you helpless in disbelief.

The repertory, Sri Venkateshwara Natya Mandali(Surabhi) was established in 1937 at Jimidipeta village of Srikakulam District. Since 72 years, the repertory has been staging plays. This troupe underwent training under Padmashree BV Karanth in 1997, ‘98 and ’99. Comprising 65 members of the same family ranging from a six month old baby to a 65 year old, this repertory is a huge hit in Andhra Pradesh.

Rich dreams, none too farfetched

Once upon a time, there lived two musicians. Both were, the greatest that human kind had ever seen or listened to.  One always outdid the other. They both scaled great heights and set revolutionary standards. They explored the myriad dimensions of music and reveled in it. Their talent was a matter of pride for the people of the land, who rejoiced in it. It was a sheer treat to the senses, when they both performed one after another, one with the other, complementing each other, letting music conquer them. All was so fine as long as they let music conquer them. But that dastardly fatalistic facet of life showed up. It perhaps happened all too soon. It was time to determine the better between the two. The world had all the while hailed them the greatest but they desperately urged for evaluation. They yearned for recognition individually, believing their talent was not combined, but one was certainly superior than the other – even when the world had given in to their superiority of existence. The singers appealed to the people of the land. Alas, were they all too inadequate to judge? Ill-equipped to gauge these stalwarts? Even the most erudite resigned to the all-empowering greatness of these singers. They  begged to be spared of committing the sin of judging what they perceived to be God’s own best insight into divinity.  Left with no option and steadfast to their purpose, the musicians set foot into Lord Shiva’s Kailasam. Pleading with the Lord, they begged to be heard so that He may pass the final judgement. When lesser mortals had failed, their faith in the Almighty became ever more unshakeable.  Smiling, the Lord acceded. The divine feat commenced. The two rendered their best, with all the fervour they could muster, which seemed colossal to the Lord Almighty Himself.  Thus, several eons passed by, as the Lord revelled in divinity Himself, flummoxed with intoxication. He heaved a deep sigh, smiled gently, and asked each of the singers to sit in each of his ears, and continue singing… while He would let His inner senses decide, if the need arises… thus he passed His judgement, and resumed His eternal tapas… as He lived His dream forever – never to be de-mesmerised from this tapas.

Dreams come true. They really do. I wished for this one from the bottom of my heart, from the core of my soul, my prayers were sincere and the dream was serious enough. Yes, the category of ‘fulfilled dreams’ have that commercial star shining at the top right corner that intends to ‘but’ in a disclaimer. You can’t wish you suffer a stomach ache the day you have to make a presentation before your boss, lets say. Not so mundane, never that lame. It cant be so trivial a wish at all, for heaven’s sake. It needs to be a gigantic, massive dream. So big that it captures the Lord Almighty’s fancy, makes Him sit up, shakes Him off His meditation to gasp – Wow! …. Yeah, that needs attention dude!

Now, I have always, always, for the last 6 years or so (seems like since forever actually), wanted to meet the stalwart, the grand, the god-like, the less celebrated, the less known but the most divine, the most revered musician – Pt Rajshekhar Mansur. I completely lost my senses for a good 5 seconds when I saw him for the very first time, in person, at his door step, as he smiled gently and opened the door to me while I stood completely frozen. The four raags – Godhan Gouri, Lachcha Saakh, Miyan ki Todi and Baraari that I had compulsively-obsessively listened to, medidated to, suddenly pulsated with all their vibrancy all at once. I was levitating, it seemed, what with the guru of Jaipur Atrauli gharana before me, whose aura had captivated me, putting me into a trance. Now, I had graded this moment so high in my head all these few years that I thought I would never ever be blessed to experience it. Things graded too high vapourise into thin air and become one with the celestial world. One requires fortune coupled with eligibility to meet people of his stature, you know. And here I was, neither qualified nor fortunate (going by my track record of misfortune). I mustered wakefulness to mutter a hello sir, I hope I am on time. I was desperate to not pull an Ally Mc Beal in all my desperation and nervousness. I give into hallucinations when I am in sheer nervousness and despair. Rather, I try very hard to relish that moment of truth in all its vitality, lest it ceases to exist.  But I also hallucinate when caught in situations that I wanna escape from. Horribly enough,  I equally wish the culprit making me indulge in wishful thinking empathised with my predicament, understood that I am vulnerable to hallucinations and forgave, but remember the siamese connection between hard luck and me? Even as I was in the midst of the most divine aura, my mind was monkeying around to check on all the corners of my mind, vaccuming it clean off everything else, making ample room to accomodate this memory for many lifetimes to come, if possible, to fully satiate the thirst of this soul. Now, settling down with a the nicest cup of tea and the crispiest couple of cookies, what I had for the next 45 minutes that was actually intended to be a brief 15 minute interaction, became the greatest rendezvous in my life, with this giant of a scholar. What of satiation, when this turned out to be a raging, furious appetiser!

Not quite sure how to start, I thought for a while too little. Just then, he initiated. “What do you know about music?”

How are you? I am swine, thank you!

Obviously, the pall of anxiety has engulfed the entire city. Nobody wants to take a chance.  Not when the death toll is rising every single day. When it rains, people ‘feel’ the virus breeds faster, ‘expect’ conditions to worsen and rush to the doctors, ‘feeling’ that the feverishness that they ’sensed’ that morning ‘could’ be a deadly indication of H1N1. Schools, offices, market places, bookstores, cinemas and everywhere else, people are cussing the swine. And for the media, its party time! They  just wont stop feasting on the swine. This reporter was there, to etch new angles to the swine, with every new dawn. To sum it all -

The shocking demise of the kindergarten teacher from Sudarshan Vidya Mandir rocked the city as it was the first swine flu death. Now, the  school effort’s to bounce back to normalcy, putting the death behind and smile on despite being in the media glare must be impossible, just as it is to us journos,  who bear their mood swings and frustrations with a broad smile (while wondering what the hell is so suddenly awful, while all of us in our respective businesses are pressed to deliver, especially in a crises of this magnitude), only with an intention to update to the awfully panicky and incurably curious public(which is justifiable in such a crisis, anyway). The subsequent deaths of another 3 people who were in the prime of their youth, owing to swine flu aggravated the panic amongst the youth. They rushed to check on their flu status albeit the damp Monday morning(17 Aug 09). With our panic, rush and all as a ruse,  we may pass off but the pressure mounting on doctors amidst all this flu mayhem is, to put it mildly, freaky! Although the health authorities are striving hard to ward off the fear, they arent doing it conspicuously enough. At the testing centres, what catches the eye is the absence of any signages, help desks or placards guiding the panicky lot. Or maybe its never too enough, considering the herd mentality. Wherever is the strife for herd immunity now!

Edited version of the following story appeared in DNA, on Page 3, on 15 August 2009

Don’t worry, be cautious

The flu is everywhere. But the scare of the flu appears to be mightier than the flu itself, compelling parents to be overly cautious to safeguard their children. But doctors recommend parents to take correct measures and not succumb to the scare and thereby panic and overdo it.

Dr Nijaguna, Paediatrician, Rajiv Gandhi Institute of Chest Diseases, said, “Children of different age groups need care and protection against the virus to varying degrees. It is not wise for parents and teachers panicking and going in for swine flu tests frantically.”

He explained that infants remain unaffected by the H1N1 virus, as long as the mother breast feeds the baby and toddlers on the other hand, are most susceptible to the H1N1 virus, like they are to any other virus. Their movement must be restricted to in and around their family. The mode of transportation of school going children who are less than 8 years of age, he said, must be either the school bus or the parents themselves should drop them, in order to track the infected more easily. And to protect children aged more than 8 years, teacher-parent relation must be well established. They must check the children’s conditions on a day-to-day basis. Parents must avoid sending their children to school if they are sick and teachers must ensure children maintain good distance from one another in crowded places of the school, he emphasised.

With the atmosphere steeped in the fear of flu, maintaining good hygiene should become a compulsive practice. People, besides family members must avoid hugging and cuddling up with children, said Dr Preeti Galagali, Member, Indian Paediatric Association. She added, “Children are most likely to be in physical contact. Overly hugging and kissing them should be avoided. Moreover, keeping them at home when ill is a must. General respiratory and personal hygiene is more significant now.”

Dr Nijaguna also said that symptoms of common cold, fever and cough don’t indicate swine flu. Based on the family physician’s recommendations, further tests can be administered. He added that during medication, children must be supplemented with lots of fluids and easily digestible foods besides ample rest. A strong immune system can produce antibodies to ward off the virus by itself, he stressed.

What parents should know

Weak immune system in children makes them susceptible to complications of the viral infection. Children’s hygiene is of primary importance since they are more in physical contact. Ensuring that they wash their hands frequently and thoroughly, making sure that they do not meddle with their noses, avoiding the exchange of saliva while eating, shaking hands or while kissing children, and helping the child maintain personal space of one metre from the ill is all important to keep a check on the child’s immunity to the virus. Parents should play a responsible role in keeping their ill children at home. At home, the mother sleeping beside the sick child can also contract the virus. Children can bring the virus home too because they are exposed to various environments.

Children can contract sore throat, severe cough and cold and still not be susceptible to the H1N1 virus. It could be a secondary bacterial infection that can be cured by steam inhalation, cough syrup and vitamins syrup. The ill child must be monitored on alternate days or everyday, and must be admitted only if the physician recommends. The flu is curable, if the immunity of the child is strong and does not suffer from asthma, pneumonia, liver or lung diseases, and is not malnourished. Immunity of the child can be strengthened by ensuring the child consuming liquids, vitamins, good food and good sleep. Mothers should breast feed children upto two years, for that best builds the immunity of the child, against any virus. Parents must necessarily change clothes and freshen up before they play with their children at home.

Symptoms

Symptoms that parents need to look out for, in order to prevent their children from contracting the virus:

• Common cold
• Fever exceeding 100 degree Fahrenheit
• Cough
• Severe diarrhoea
• Vomiting

Parents need not rush in for a swine flu test but can seek the advice of a family physician.

If the symptoms persist, parents still need not go in for a swine flu test immediately but can opt for a blood test, which will help determine if it’s a bacterial infection or a viral infection. And the symptoms are:

• Body temperature still exceeds 100 degree Fahrenheit
• Child appears more sick than others
• Refuses food
• Sleeps very less
• There is rapid breathing
• Child is extremely lethargic and inactive
• The child becomes impossible to handle
• The child is irritable
• Cold intensifies
• Cough worsens
• Severe diarrhoea persists

Protection children need

Less than one yr old: They are very less exposed and have greater protection against viral infections. Mothers to continue breast feeding for two years, to maintain high immunity. They should not be exposed to those sick. To avoid strangers.

Toddlers: Highly prone to any viral infection. Their movement to be restricted to their homes. They should preferably not be taken to crowded places and should not be enrolled to playhomes.

School going children, between 7-8 years: Difficult to ensure they maintain distance. Respiratory and personal hygiene should be very high. To avoid congested places. Nose-to-nose contact and contact with Ayahs must be prevented.

Children above 8 years: Teachers and parents must monitor children’s health conditions from time to time. Children to maintain personal space in crowded places at school – classrooms, dining hall, play ground and prayer halls. Ventilation in classrooms. Parents to drop off children or a school van to cater to commute so that the infected can be traced.

When I did it for the first time

Man, it happened all too soon. You know, it was not meant to be. That was not what I had asked for. But I had to give in. The circumstance was just too hard and I was physically so weak to protest. That was my very first time at it.  I was nervous, unsure, intimidated and extremely hesitant. But I guess it just had to happen. I was acquainted with the principle of pain and pleasure. So, I bore it all, without a whimper or a whine. I simply went ahead, heart in my mouth, to bear all the pain.

Well, that was my first stint and will perhaps be my last ever, with writing about taxation without understanding it. I had just re-entered the business of blabbering through newspapers that day. I had walked into office when journalists were sleeping and peons, sweeping. Had finished off the formalities too quick and had waited, hoping to scoot off for a sinful DBC that evening, to feeling euphoric about bouncing back to life.  And my oh-so-rosy reverie was rudely shattered when Pranab Mukherjee’s Budget was supposed to be dabbled by me as well, on that fateful day. To understand just how fateful it got, is best reserved for the sorest imagination. Or maybe its not too hard to imagine if I tell you how much I hate anything to do with money. It gives me the jitters, my brain stops functioning, my words get economical, ok! And then, about a little more than 24 hours, much to my horror, I got my very first bylines for DNA for two stories – issues to which I had, all my life through, turned my big fat ass! Turning my ass, I dint think would end me up in so much pleasure some day!   FBT and all here and some more here.

Of pirates selling curry beans

Alright, piracy is a sin. Committing piracy of any kind is sinful. These piracy fellows  must be treated to the Goonda Act. Well, goondas will not take action. Someone responsible, the respectable elements of the society will act like goondas and eradicate piracy, is it?  Oh no, no, they will perform the act of goondas maybe? Rather, piracy goondas will be treated to goondaism performed by responsible elements of the society who will behave like goondas with goondas? Errr… Ofcourse not! The bottomline is, piracy is a punishable  offence and violators will be subjected to the Goonda Act. Thats the buzz now. Seems the fuss is fast catching up… To help the loss-incurring cine and music producers sweep all their monies into their own pockets. Not that the goondas selling pirated copies is a noble act and that they need sympathy but whoever thought movie and movie-music business was lucrative, uh?!

But c’mon, the image of pirates is uarguably romantic.  Think Johnny Depp and piracy becomes an ambition – for men to floor women and for women, although not an ambition, the idea of associating with a Johnny Depp like pirate  becomes an ambition.

Piracy of video and audio footage, and books would have perhaps been just as romantic had it been on the rough seas with Johnny Depp as the protagonist and Kiera Knightley, the hot seductress, to send the adrenaline racing. But reality, playing the vicious role its meant to, blots the charm and beauty of such romantic deviations, you know!

Reveries of Depp and Knightley apart, piracy steals life of its authenticity, they complain. Unreal, artificial, imitated, cheapened versions of music, movies and books, although only at an arm’s length is not half as charming as the original.  Its like settling for Jaani Deep  who is at your disposal, at your beck and call, at your rage and risk, since Johnny Depp, besides being a far away dream, is exhorbitant to attain.

Jaani Deep, a pirate of curry beans will do a Johnny Depp of the Carribean for you, whenever you want him to, whatever the time and place maybe – at the turn of the road, opposite authentic cinemas featuring our expensive Johnny Depp, at the end of the lane you live on, just outside your workplace, at bus stations, on railways bridges, occasionally at airport lounges and in city’s underpasses. Jaani Deep is omnipresent and down to earth. He will go places for you, not just hog it all like the oh-well!-the real-high-and-mighty Depp dude who goes places for himself!

But the massive, real, fundamental difference will always hurt- while the Oscars pour cats and dogs on our stud-boy-dude, our mud-boy-dud has to continue struggling to perform his copy cat rites. Clarify here – Page 2, Aug 11, DNA