The Mal Nourished Soul

I switch on the Television only to come across a feature which proclaims that the capital of India ranks first in mal nourishment of children followed by Bihar and Odisha. Atrocities against women, violence, poverty, corruption, the mediocrity of school and college education… the listless and tired souls all around and much more...

Art and culture seem to be alien in such a world, the existence of an intellectual showbiz and even a mafia not withstanding …the situation seems grim but the eternal optimist that I am… despite a million thrashings at the hands of life …. I believe that the future of humanity and culture still is bright and there is so much of happiness and good cheer… one only has to live and receive it with open arms… 

I salute all the upright, brave and modern day martyrs- men and women alike- who have had the courage to live by their convictions and have even laid their lives to a cause while most of the educated breed is only worried about making more and more money and be slaves to their careers… not that it is wrong…. But when one has no time for the happenings in ones immediate surroundings and one is not pro active to execute even the smallest of our duties as a citizen of the country, it worries me… of course most of us are involved in heavy intellectual discussions in elite drawing rooms over drinks and good food… maybe after all I am biased and we are indeed discharging our duty of being responsible citizens.

Today’s post is to celebrate a brave soul who has enriched me immensely during the course of my association with her. An abandoned woman who has fought the disease of alcoholism that her husband suffered for many years... and being very little educated, struggles to make a living to sustain herself. Today she has registered a small flat which she has bought in the middle of nowhere; for that is what her savings fetched her… The gold that her late father gave her at the wedding paid for it…. Maybe, dowry is not a bad idea after all… as for the years of service to the family she was married into, she had received no salary, no gratuity or insurance or provident fund and she found herself on the street without even an alimony, when she fell out of favor with the alcoholic husband…

My friend and senior writer, who is a British citizen of Indian origin laments the state of our country and its ruling elite even as his book on the martyrs of the independence of our country is published. In fact, I have come to admire his crisp, no nonsense writing which provokes me to introspect and reflect. Dr Reginald Massey (FRSA) is a writer I love to have severe intellectual differences with and below is the cover of his new book. Every word he says has a ring of reality and truth but I cannot digest his verdict. An acquaintance, who is an Indian of British origin pronounces that he has great faith in the country’s young and that they would be the saviors of the country. Even that, I find hard to believe…. watching the young and also my age group ( mid forties) which has nurtured these young. 

Do not the young learn when you live by principles and set an example for them? What example have we set for them? Of being practical, worldly wise, compromising on every value in the name of diplomacy and business acumen? We also have had the sagacity of sugar coating every digression we have made in the name of the system which compels us to do what we do; and against which one cannot hope to survive. 

Honesty today is rated on a relative grading scale. Once a senior government official in Kanpur was being talked about reverently as being very honest; his ticket to glory was that, once he took money he got the work done, come what may !!

A friend sent me a song by Paul Anka, a lovely number which spoke and reminisced of his father affectionately. Being a little down under due to over work, it was relaxing catching up with some music and poetry. I could not help but remember my “middle class” father, a modest scientist with the Defence Research and Development Organisation, who brought up his three children in a very modest, simple yet secure fashion. 

He was the most “unworldly wise” man I had ever seen and he called me one, when I grew up. We both lived by our hearts doing what made us happy oblivious to parameters of success. He never realized that may be, he had passed on this personality flaw to me through genetic make-up or just by setting an example. Dreaming big was not in his “dictionary”… a trait of a failure?

Art and culture was a part of growing up… but he could not afford to take us even by bus to the happening places in Delhi to watch cultural programs. He had the additional responsibility of a younger brother and sister too, for a long time, which drained out his finances. He did the next best thing; became the secretary of the Andhra Association and we tagged along with him watching dance and theatre. I do not even remember whom I watched but all I remember is that every activity and performance that I had watched was a joyful and beautiful experience. 

How big or popular the artist was; was not important…the experience was.

Another way of being connected to art and culture that my father invented was; to be a part of a local amateur theatre group and again, hanging around him, we children absorbed and enjoyed a lot. In no time we had our own group writing plays and enacting them only for ourselves…. We did not even need an audience… We painted to our heart’s content, wrote scripts, composed dance and once in a blue moon had the luxury of treating ourselves to a Samosa and Coca Cola.

No big arangetrams, or private classes or being sent to special classes in dance and music in chauffeur driven cars…. The teachers who came to teach dance and music at the Andhra Association changed frequently like the seasons; teaching a bunch of middle class children for modest fees could not be called lucrative….

Our reading appetites had to be fulfilled by the local lending library for which one had to save 25 paise per week...clothes we wore were modest and often stitched by mother; and again, hanging around her while she stitched, one got an opportunity to feel fabrics and think about design and fashion in one’s own small way.

“Sankoch” – a dash of reticence and shy demeanor was considered to be a weakness then; today maybe such a quality should be rated at a premium. For me, being harsh/ sarcastic with words and even being very vocal is a sign of aggression of which I am guilty of at times. Sharing emotions and a part of one’s life with people around was such a support system then; but today a part of being sophisticated and elite is living in your own ivory tower, lonely and even abandoned; no matter how successful you are …. 

What is the measure of happiness? Maybe greater achievements… professionally… or making more money…. The churning goes on…

What about ones conduct in day to day life? How many issues around us are ignored as we do not have the time to interfere, even though the matters tug at our civic/moral sense? We are busy professionals, artistes, writers. It is the government and the administration which has to take care of everything. One will not oppose a corrupt official or a goon for the fear of harassment or simply for the fear of wasting time.

Our driver quietly gave the official in charge of issuing death certificates, some money to expedite the process of obtaining my father’s death certificate. He felt that in the traumatic state of having lost my father recently I should not face the harassment of the application not coming through quickly.... He was trying to protect me; knowing my infamous persona of being a stubborn stickler for rules and having got into trouble often with many; including an errant builder, a road rage aggressor, government departments where I had to invoke the RTI to get to the base of the problem, etc. He has patiently driven me to a variety of these offices and has borne my emotional outbursts of exasperation and helplessness often when I had arrived at a dead end; and it was clear to me that my efforts cannot change the so called “system”, after all. I am a "common man" who can never dream to wield the power which could make a difference !!

The result is that my driver, my friends and my girls always worry for my safety; but I have not missed to notice that the girls have imbibed a streak of being upright with their morals and conscience. I am not an achiever or a "success" in any popular sense of the word. But yes, I feel no less successful than any of the so called “successful” celebrities. I take great pride and solace in the knowledge that I work very hard in my profession, do my best to be on the right side of my conscience and enjoy every person and every small bit of happiness that comes my way; I share my life unabashedly with all around me… and I still dare to trust and take every one at face value… 

I, for sure, am not a mal nourished soul.

Killing the Spectator

I reached Ravindra Bharati, the cultural hub of Hyderabad, to witness a Kuchipudi recital, dot at 6 pm, the appointed time of commencement of the performance. The program finally began at 7.20 pm with a book release function clubbed to the dance event; and the dance recital finally began at 8.15 pm. That was not just stretching the patience of the spectator a bit too far but instead; was a definitive attempt to kill the spectator. Then the organizers wonder why the classical programs attract so very few people; not to talk of the largess of mediocrity doled out in dance.

Bharata used the term prekshaka for a spectator. Abhinavagupta, the major commentator on Natyasastra used the term sahrdaya, for a sensitive spectator. Rasika (one who relishes aesthetic pleasure) is a term which emerges from the Srimad Bhagavata.  There are many such parallel terms for a spectator. The sacred and secular in art gave different terms to the spectator (also called the nagarika) - rasika (urban pleasure seeking elite) or the bhakta (devotee).

 Bharata says that the cultured people (sumanaska-s- who are of good heart and mind) make superior spectators.

Indeed, one has be very cultured not to lose one’s cool at the event management horrors and substandard performances. 

However the book release was enriching as was the dance by Mutnuri Yagnanarayana Sarma. The long sabha karyakramam gave me an interesting insight into the mind of the author, “Nagna muni" (a nom de plume) and his work, “Akasadevara” which was praised by some of the renowned critics present. The book is a comment on the phenomenon of “Marketing” of faith. The business of religion, faith and culture has assumed gigantic proportions with the commoditisation, politicisation and bureaucratisation of the same. The scams, the fanaticism and the exploitation in the name of religion and culture have assumed serious proportions with the media emerging as the hydra headed chimera aiding the phenomenon. The sale of astrological aids to good life, success, wealth and fame, religious discourses, etc. make great financial and TRP prospects. The governments do not touch influential business or religious groups as a part of their vote bank politics.

Culture today, especially dance is definitely suffering from bureaucratisation in the hands of the government and their bodies assigned to look after the propagation and preservation of the same. Whether one likes to use the term marketing, in connection with dance or not; dance has definitely been packaged and commoditised. It has to be made into a good selling proposition; at least to get grants from the relevant bodies.

Interestingly the huge ugly banner, the back drop in yesterday's performance gave the dancer's particulars as " Mutnuri Yagna- Of "Swathi Muthyam" cine fame..... The dancer could not help but draw on the filmi connection to give credibility to his stature; its another matter that he is such a good dancer that his art does not require any recommendation or endorsement.

Coming back to where I began; what about the poor spectator? 

Notwithstanding the tall order of qualities of a good dancer and a good production in the Natyasastra; no matter, how Bharata had envisaged the ideal dance/drama and the ideal dancer/actor; I intend to only look at the ideal spectator as defined by him, in this post.

One is free to draw one’s own conclusions on the rarity of the breed of spectators of classical dance. Even if one aspires to be an ideal one, the spectator could be killed by a combination of factors including mediocrity of the dance itself …. A dear friend who recently responded to my questionnaire for a project on Arts Marketing as a part of my Senior Research Fellowship of Ministry of Culture said, “The most disconcerting aspect of today’s dance scenario is that the artist/organiser no longer cares for the spectator.” 

Abhinavagupta in Abhinavabharati, has placed a great responsibility on the spectator....  a spectator ought to be a social being who is also so large hearted that he empathises with every individual of the society and thus is equipped to respond to the poet’s mind and thus can get immersed in the characters of the play and thereafter according to his samskara (culture, taste, sensibility) interpret the same.  

A spectator ought not be an analyser or moralist. Scholars and learned men have said that- " he cannot be built by education; instead he is supposed to be a  product of the refinement attained by complete submission and submersion in art.... just like the rocks which attain fine lustrous smoothness as they are constantly washed down by the river." Thus, becoming an ideal spectator is an arduous  and continuous process.

Art, in the Indian tradition is not for mere entertainment or is not just ornamental; it is considered to be sacred and moreover the spectator is not supposed to be a person of superficial disposition; he is expected to apply himself seriously and deliberately to enjoy and understand art. Natyasastra specifies in Chapter 27, verses 54-62 the qualities of a spectator... Bharata differentiates a critic (which I shall expound in some other post) from a spectator (prekshaka).

A person who is undisturbed, clean, imaginative, sympathetic and  unbiased is qualified to be called a prekshaka. He who vibrates sympathetically to joy or sorrow, anger and fear is a superior spectator. Bharata calls cultured people as sumanaska-s (of good heart and mind) who make superior spectators.

Bharata further says that the ideal spectator is one who is possessed of a good character, high birth, quiet behaviour, and learning, and is desirous of fame and virtue, impartial, advanced in age, proficient in drama in all its 6 aspects, alert, honest, unaffected by passion, expert in playing the 4 kinds of musical instruments, acquainted with costumes, and make up, the rules of the dialects, the four kinds of histrionic representation, grammar, prosody, and various other sastras, is very virtuous, expert in different arts and crafts and has the fine sense of the rasa- s (sentiments) and bhava-s (states)......

To be an ideal spectator is a pursuit of a lifetime and beyond.
But, is the spectator being provided with the art on which he can thrive ?

References:

Ghosh Manomohan, The Natyasastra, The Royal Asiatic Society of Bengal, Calcutta, 1950.

Dehejia Harsh V., The Advaita Of Art, Motilal Banarsidass Publ., 1996.

Silence- Not a virtue anymore?

I have suffered for long from the malaise of doubting myself, my intentions and my views, especially on the aesthetics of classical dance. Maybe, my readers would classify me as a chronic un-realist with a critical attitude bordering on cynicism.

Dance circles have often baffled me.  I was brought up on the supposed portrayal of  “universal truth” through art which leads to the ultimate liberation- attainment of enlightenment. A couple of programs, once in a rare blue moon, do indeed make an impact enough to wonder whether the calm and repose felt during the performance and also much after that; is what the near divine aesthetic relish is all about. Many would scoff at this revealation, though not openly. 

One does come across maestros whose art and also their simplicity and humility can utterly humble one; while on the other hand, one encounters artistes exemplifying showmanship bordering on arrogance. It is ironic to often see clichéd mannerisms of utter reverence being overdone- for instance one pulls the earlobe in reverence when one’s teacher’s name is taken, the right hand is placed on the chest with an exaggerated humble bent of the torso and so on and so forth…. And the same artiste, in another instant, could exhibit aggressive and opportunistic salesmanship to sell and project his art. Can humility and uncouth aggression co exist in mutually exclusive compartments in the same person?

Performances with a still center are as rare as they are difficult to define. Maybe such performances are the ones which are not just for the sake of enjoyment or education but which have the power to take the spectator to a state of harmony with his own self or take him closer to the unknown realm of universal truth …

In the, so called, thinking dancers’ parlance, dance is all about expressing one’s own self… while the great maestros of dance across ages espoused that it was all about the self, merging into the character and thereafter into the universal truth. In many dance and theatrical forms,like in Kathakali, as the make-up progresses the artiste goes into a meditative transformation and actually becomes the character much before the play begins.

Mostly, one gets to witness personal flamboyance and the loud showmanship, playing to the gallery as is the norm with today’s performances, especially Kathak. There is hardly any experience of silence amid the show of virtuosity. Once I witnessed a talented Kutiyattam artiste, used to the adulation and awe of the uninformed audiences, portray the prolonged scene of Bali's death, with all subtlety thrown to winds. The seasoned spectator was restless and wished for the speedy death of the character being portrayed; while the uninformed got carried away for a while by the gimmickry of the long drawn throes of death and its various stages. After a certain point the performance became a misery for all. But who can enlighten the artiste? 

Clinical precision in technique or virtuosity which generates a harmonic equilibrium with the symmetric rhythm in nature is an essential ingredient of dance and creates a sense of beauty. However, the subtle and the understated are the virtues which manifest as the calm and repose in a performance which need to form the core/essence of a performance.

However, this could only be a view of a spectator suffering from critical cynicism.

O’ My Husband

Classical dance and its rich text and sub text

My young daughter who is an undergraduate in the USA cited a killing academic schedule which will not allow her to indulge in Indian art forms there. This was in response to my suggestion that it might be nice to try and start a SPIC MACAY chapter at her University where she already runs a meditation club. I felt a tinge of disappointment for I did my best to expose both my girls to the Indian classical arts in their growing up years; and had expected them to pursue them in a big way, as spectators.

However, I drew solace from the fact that I also reconnected to arts, especially dance, after a long period of avoiding them for various reasons. As a child I dreaded the Kuchipudi lessons and tried every possible excuse to escape them and for a long time later, I never went anywhere near the classical dance and music. But out of nowhere, when I was past the age of 30, came the urge to quit everything that I was doing for a profession; to take up studying performing arts. Then came the natural progression towards writing on dance, teaching in the dance department at the University of Hyderabad and now editing Nartanam, a journal on classical dances of India.

The umbilical cord with arts and culture never really severs. My experience was reassuring and gave me hope that someday my girls will resume their ties too, with dance and music.

Never the one to push my desires and ambitions on the girls, I let the conversation with my daughter veer towards other things. Suddenly the 20 year old giggled and asked me, “Ma, what was that performance in which the lady went on addressing her husband in a 1001 ways? I almost thought you were crazy to be watching it, but now I think it was rather sweet!”

She was referring to a recording of a Kathakali performance of “Kalyana Sougandhikam”. That morning, as I watched the recording of the performance my daughter was preparing to leave for her college. The scene was Draupadi addressing Bheema. “O, My husband” - she addresses him with a couple of mudras; “O, My husband” she addresses him in a different way; then came another interpretation; yet another one and it continued for the next 10 minutes…. As I was engrossed in the performance, my daughter left quietly for her college without disturbing me.

I watched the entire performance and was moved deeply. I was fascinated with the development of the characters and the story line, which was not new to me as the epics and mythology was the staple diet on which we grew up.  The skilled artists made a profound impact on me. It was not just an episode from the Mahabharata. The characters from different yugas come together- Hanumana and Bheema.  The humbling of the arrogant Bheema left me with the universalized feeling of my own ego being too trivial in the play of the divine in the cosmos. The characters came alive in their myriad shades, psychology, and demeanor which almost bordered the human and yet was celestial. The emotions which were merely human transcended from the mundane to the exalted. For me, Draupadi addressing her husband was not a meek and coy wife but an important part of a celestial drama; and she espoused in her character, some of the sterling qualities of a woman. Bheema was not a mere arrogant king but a seeker of enlightenment who attains his true calling when divested of his ego. Hanumana in his humble and weak appearance was the celestial being who led Bheema to recognize his own self. 

After I accomplished a few chores at home, I decided to play the DVD and watch the piece again….

Draupadi was addressing Bheema in multiple ways, “O, My husband”…

And, at the very moment my daughter arrived from college. She was stunned; and asked me with concern, “Do not tell me that this performance has been continuously going on for hours and you are still watching it? Has Draupadi not finished addressing Bheema, yet?”

That is the magic of the rich text and sub text of the classical dance which leads the spectator to innumerable experiences as he watches the performances over and over again. Every performance could open up a new vista for the spectator and every performance is a challenge to the artiste; to excel himself in taking the spectator nearer to the text and unraveling the subtext.

A NATIONAL FAILURE

The brutalization of the Delhi girl which cost her life today, the innumerable rapes across the country, honor killings, the irrational khap panchayats, female foeticide, the corrupt politicians and their vote bank politics, ineffective administration, the toothless legal system...

Every greed and every failure of ours towards a fellow human being has us thinking; of how, as a society, we have deteriorated. 

Yesterday, a friend from Britain expressed his outrage... that every Indian, right from the President to the Peon is sold out- as much in the spiritual sense as in the mere material sense... to which, I reacted indignantly.....The crooks of the country are not Indians; (there are citizens of nowhere) but every Indian is not a crook. 

My indignation not withstanding, I am a part of the system and I am responsible for its every failure.

Where then, does one begin the introspection and reformation ? The causes and the steps to be taken, to address the issue, are being widely debated and  discussed.

All I want to do is to present the following excerpt from a book which I am writing which tries to fathom the divinity in classical performing arts. I point out to the fact that morals and aesthetics in education and life as a whole, have depleted .... which perhaps is the reason for the destruction of the social and political fabric of the country...

"In the Republic*, Socrates discusses how the philosopher- rulers of the ideal state should be educated. He reflects about the importance of musical and poetic education to youth and how rhythm and mode of music penetrate more deeply into inner soul than anything else does. He further suggests that they have the most powerful effect on the soul, since they make a person graceful. He also stresses that right education in music and poetry will lead a person to clear perception of things which will lead him to shun the ugly and praise only the beautiful and the fine; and thereby delight in it and imbibe it deep into his soul; and thus a person becomes noble and good. 

Youngsters brought up thus; when rationality makes an appearance in them, will be able to recognise good and condemn the ugly which is the point of musical and poetic education. Thus Socrates says aesthetic experiences ought to improve morals as they infuse the idea of harmony as a universal principle and lead man to preserve such harmony in his soul too even before he masters conceptual arguments for moral behaviour..."

The point I would like to open for introspection and discussion is.... Is not exploitation of women rampant even in the rarefied echelons of Dance? 

Reference:

Cambridge Texts in the History of Philosophy, Greek and Roman Aesthetics, Oleg V. Bychkov and Anne Sheppard (eds.), kindle version.

Physical Allure in a Dancer

“Am I wrong in expecting that a dancer on stage is not fat and thick waist-ed?

Am I being irreverent in expecting that a dancer be in best of physical shape?”

It was a text message from my friend in Hong Kong, who of late has been visiting India frequently, to watch our classical performing arts. His angst is not that of a dance critic’s, whose intentions are always suspect; his is the agony of an interested spectator of classical dance.

Is the lament out of place?

Senior dancers who have made a name; and are famed for their mastery over the art form cannot be questioned about their physique and appearance. One is expected to watch them with reverence for their past glories.  Their seasoned mastery of the form is often overshadowed by their unflattering appearance. No matter, they shall not give up the dancing space to younger dancers.

I have often wondered why the seniors hesitate to embrace the format of lecture demonstrations and talks; which would be priceless coming from their vast experience. They could wield great influence by molding the youthful and the enthusiastic minds seeking the depths of the Indian art forms. Maybe the mindless performing arts festivals, most of which are not thematically sculpted, need to have an appropriate slot for our dance maestros.

Many young dancers, too, are unmindful of their physique and appearance; and at times, the inappropriateness or the shabbiness of the costumes, the accessories and the make up mar a performance. Agreed, that the art and its technique is of primary importance; but it is also the production values which determine the siddhi – success of the dramatic production or the performance.

Indian classical dancers are fond of quoting extensively from the Natyasastra, the venerated treatise on dramaturgy which has left no aspect of drama/dance unexplained and un-analysed.

Verses 99-101 of the chapter 27 of the Natyasastra( Gosh, 2007) say,

Intelligence, strength, physical beauty, knowledge of time and tempo, appreciation of the Psychological State and the Sentiments, (proper)age, curiosity, acquisition(of knowledge and arts), (their) retention, vocal music prompted by dance, suppression of stage fright, and enthusiasm, will be the requisite qualities of an actor (patra).

A teenager dancing to mature lyrics, the import of which she/he does not understand is as out of place as an aged dancer, not in best of form, physically, portraying a srngara nayika. The age of the actor has to be according to the character he plays in a drama; which needs to be so adhered to in dance too.

There is no point in attributing a sexist agenda to the expectation that the much favored female dancer be in a good physical form and shape and also possess the charisma, if not great physical beauty; to hold forte and grip the audiences with a solo performance. One often feels that the men dancers need to work on erasing the effeminate trait in their dance; if not eliminate the same in their personas, off stage.

The group format is one which can accommodate any number of virtuoso dancers but does not seek charisma and beauty in individual dancers; though physical fitness is an important requisite there too.

This is not advocating the glamour and sheer physical beauty of dance and the dancer over the thematic spiritual content of Indian classical dances. The ability to transcend the physical and attain the metaphysical is the core of the Indian classical dances. The Manipuri dancer never ever establishes an eye contact with the spectator. An Indian classical dancer is invariably clothed quite modestly, providing for little or no scope for enticing the spectator by titillation.

However, nature has an established order of inherent beauty of symmetry, shape and equilibrium in all of its creations and the human body is no exception.

The debate on my friend’s innocuous query may ensue.

Kid Powered Films for Nation Building

An inspiring story of a unique partnership of two NGOs- WAG CHELSEA and "Kid Powered Media" and their work with underprivileged children who educate people in the slums around them through plays and films conceived, scripted, acted and filmed, all by the kids themselves.

A cycle rickshaw ride from the Shahadra ( it literally means “door of the kings”) metro station to the interiors of the trans Yamuna habitations on a rainy day takes one through mountains of garbage and filth lining the open drains on both sides of the roads. The onslaught of stench on ones senses could debilitate the mind as well as the soul. The pot holes in the roads are the size of trenches and honking no longer serves the purpose of clearing ones way through the traffic; the automobile drivers, rickshaw pullers and the pedestrians use their lung power laced with the most caustic words and tones to get their way through. The often encountered splash from the deadly sewage overspill on the roads as vehicles whizz past each other; was a metaphoric reminder of the rival politicians’ and administrations’ invectives against each other blaming why parts of India still do not have the basic infrastructure for a decent human existence. 

Surely this region of Purani Dilli (Old Delhi) was not a cesspool when it was built by the Mughals. The common elite Indian’s callousness and selfishness always tries to find causes outside of himself for what has gone wrong with our nation which is supposed to have originated as an elite civilization buttressed by the walls of ancient wisdom, rich culture and spirituality. It is clichéd even to wonder how a country which is fast growing into a super power can still have huge pockets of humanity living below the lowest levels of basic human existence. The reality defies any rationale.

The crass behaviour of the people’s elected representatives in the rarefied portals of the Lower and Upper Houses of Parliament has wiped out any hope of culture and honour prevailing in us anymore. Art, culture and more so fine arts seem to be the remotest of the thoughts that can fleet through one’s mind when one is face to face with the socio-political realities of India, especially the gut wrenching slums of Shahadra and elsewhere across the country.

But one is mistaken; WAG CHELSEA’s “Happy Media Club” is an inspiring interface of art, education and the underprivileged.  The valiant efforts of NGO’s like WAG CHELSEA to educate and empower the underprivileged offers a bright  hope of nurturing a culture and a class of meritorious  citizens  which even the highest echelons of our society may not be able to produce. The strength, the grit, the wisdom and the humour of the youngsters at WAG CHELSEA who call themselves peer-educators and their efforts to educate the people around them through plays and films conceived, scripted, acted and filmed by them are indicative of refined sensibilities and prevalence of culture right in the midst of poverty and degradation.

WAG CHELSEA is an almost two decade old registered NGO an initiative of a group of Army Officers' wives who had resolved to contribute their bit to the society by discharging what they believed was their social responsibility. WAG is an acronym for Women’s Action Group and CHELSEA is an acronym: C hildren.  H ealth.  E ducation. L adies. S enior citizens.  E nvironment.  A wareness. Ironically theirs is the most hacked into website  thanks to the popular acronym WAG of the British tabloid press for the wives and girlfriends of the famous footballers and the famous CHELSEA football club.

Working to provide a package of educational, medical, nutritional, emotional, social, recreational and vocational training and rehabilitation services to marginalized children and their guardians with a holistic approach to community development at grass roots level has been an arduous task for WAG CHELSEA. Their programmes addressing general health, sexually transmitted infections (STIs) and HIV and AIDS; issues of vulnerable children living in difficult circumstances and malnutrition have been possible largely through private funding including one from His Majesty King Jigme of Bhutan and other private donors. The unique concept of Gross National Happiness in Bhutan signifies its commitment to building an economy that serves its distinctive culture and spiritual values and aims at enhancing people’s general level of well being.

Prince Jigme Dorji of Bhutan captivated by the children at the CHELSEA Center.

Former US Ambassador to India Timothy J Roemer has  a word of appreciation for Doe Nair of CHELSEA

The affable and yet firm Doe Nair who heads WAG CHELSEA  does not mince words when she shares what an uphill task it is to carry on working which is a constant struggle of  overcoming innumerable  barriers.  Getting across their good intentions to the local panchayats, winning their confidence and penetrating the issues through the peer educators chosen from among them by training them; and at times dealing with the greed of the local troublemakers was no joke. Doe tells about the dire need for shelters for HIV positive orphans; palliative care centers for the poor, dying in inhuman conditions, and providing them dignity in death; addressing malnutrition in pregnant women, children and young adults; providing vocational training for young adults and school drop outs to enable them to become responsible citizens of the country and addressing many other burning issues. The combined efforts of the corporate social responsibility initiatives by the private sector, the government initiatives and the myriad NGO’s in the arena, do not seem to have made even an honorable difference to the existing gloomy scenario. In addition, where is the infrastructure to reach India’s staggering millions of children who live and work on its urban streets and slum communities? How does one reach the illiterate who will never go to school or are unlikely to finish school if they are going now?  

WAG CHELSEA has made its own contribution by bringing about a seemingly impossible nexus of creative medium like films and work for community development at grass roots level.  The “Happy Media Club” is a small group of peer educators of CHELSEA who are empowered by another NGO- the Kid Powered Media (KPM) based in Delhi. The founder of the organisation, Alex Heywood, who has the experience of working with the street children of India feels that, “the disadvantaged children throughout India are inherently smart, ingenious, charismatic and extremely hard working and that despite their situations, or maybe because of them, they have an exuberance for life and a remarkable understanding on what is truly meaningful in it.” Alex points out that most manuals and training materials for working with children advise the use of “props” or “role-playing” as a valuable tool to help kids comprehend life skills and issues. It is just that with the advent of affordable means of production, KPM takes the approach to the next level through films and complements the format of nukkad nataks (street plays).

A film shoot in progress in a slum

A dramatic scene in progress  in a nukkad natak

Alex who worked in the restaurant industry in Toronto first visited India to taste its delectable cuisine and felt it hard to return back to the riches at home in Toronto. Having worked with organisations like the Salaam Balak Trust and Ekta Parishad and International Development Enterprises India, he discovered the power of films to capture children’s imagination and educate them through story.  Jessie, his American colleague, says that a common denominator for all the disadvantaged kids is a lack of access to information, basic life-saving and changing knowledge on issues such as HIV / AIDS, T.B., drugs, empowerment, education and health.

KPM aims not at creating cinematic masterpieces. Their films are short, low cost and educational as well as entertaining, complete with Indian themes and even dances and other masala. However they use children from local communities as the writers, actors and directors. KPM staff works with the children to cull out scripts in the classes conducted by them which include open discussions on issues and how they affect their lives, the cause and effect and thus the story-line develops for the film. The classes help learning through conversations, creative thinking and problem solving exercises and the use of the arts. In a series of acting workshops, they work out the scenes for the film, assign roles to the kids and help them in-front and behind the camera. After shooting them in their neighbourhoods the editing too is done in-house. Involvement of the kids in the creative process enables them to produce extremely relevant story lines and moreover suggest realistic solutions; and most often the audiences directly relate to the issues and proposed solutions.  The classes and workshops are short and concise and are held in kids’ local communities and are worked around the family and personal obligations of the children.

Screening of a KPM film in a slum- its housefull

Apart from long and short films and documentaries with real life stories with educational messages KPM makes interactive films with multiple endings and outcomes that allow children watching the films to choose an ending of their choice and learn about the consequences of the decisions they make. Usually a presentation and a workshop is designed by the kids to accompany the film during the Kid Powered Theatre screenings. These presentations are aimed at re-enforcing the theme(s) of the films and their solutions, while also allowing the spectators to participate in discussions.

The filming of  _From Hero to Zero_

Through Danger, A Lesson Learned is a film which focuses on personal safety. The Path revolving around the dangers of drugs has received rave reviews from children across Delhi for its powerful storyline, intense action and commendable acting. From Hero To Zero teaches children and parents about the benefits of being proactive when discussing the 'taboo' social issues. There are many such short films which stress on the importance of making informed decisions by the kids. The screening of the films in the slum communities, using portable movie equipment necessitates extra staff which is hired from amongst the street kids, providing them with jobs. KPM partners with existing children’s charities like the WAG CHELSEA and helps them re-imagine how to connect with street and working children. 

Indeed there was no doubt while interacting with the young peer educators at WAG CHELSEA that they are the catalysts for change both for themselves and within their under privileged communities. Their leadership skills, self-confidence and the pride and ownership over creative and educational works of art made by them was amply evident in every one of them. They were not just the spokespersons for their films but also of the issues they confront and the new India that they want to usher in.

Whose Heritage is it anyway?

The article is a reflection of a layman’s difficulties in accessing and exercising ownership of his own culture and heritage and the questions that he poses to its guardians.

                        

“Proud to represent a culture enriched through millennia” says a slogan on the Indian Council of Cultural Relations (ICCR) website. In the ICCR library one encounters liberally displayed quotable quotes of the revered Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, the first Minister for Education of independent India and a member of the Constituent Assembly who established the ICCR in the year 1950. The Maulana, talking of the rich history and legacy of the nation inherited by him spoke for every citizen of the country, when he said, “I am an essential element which has gone to build India. I can never surrender this claim.”

At the sleepy office of the ICCR at Azad Bhawan, New Delhi; locating some officers at their work place is quite often, an arduous task. Often the person one is looking for is late to come to the office; supposedly tied up with some official work, of course, on his way to the office. Another is availing a wash room facility from which he takes forever to get back to his desk; or one is told that the person one is trying to locate is in a meeting in somebody else’s office; and appears only in the second half of the day back at his desk. These seem to be the often repeated reasons for the officials not to be found at their desks. One does not suspect the truth of the reasons given. But the utter disinterest and disdain of the manner in which a visitor is informed about the same reeks of a sedate work culture.  And finally, when one gets to meet the person one was looking for after a long and patient vigil; he barely lifts up his eyes from the files which are in front of him; and is evasive, disinterested and dismissive in his interaction. This seems to be the general behavioural trait at the supposedly busy office which takes the Indian culture abroad and brings the cultures from abroad to us Indians.

An innocuous request by a scholar to examine the annual reports of the ICCR since 1950 is met with derision. She is set off on a wild goose chase. After meeting a dozen officers in the building she discovers that the annual reports for the past 10-15 years are available but the older ones are not there. Instead of making an effort to trace them and make them available for her study, they suggest to the scholar that she should study only the past 15 years of the ICCR operations. This, they further suggest, will keep her vast project from getting out of hand. When asked if one could file an application under the RTI Act to get the necessary information, an officer sarcastically remarks that it would be a sure shot away to fish out the reports.

That was not all; the poor researcher enquires about the reports of the seminars and workshops conducted/ funded by the ICCR in the past years. The details would assist her in evaluating the programs and the operations of ICCR over the years. The officer is matter of fact in replying that once the artist gets the ticket to the foreign land or once the cheque is sent out to support a seminar/workshop; that is the end of the event they hear of. Not even a brief report is filed by the artists or the organisers on the proceedings for which the ICCR has doled out the money; the ICCR does not insist on one. The body seems to be a mere disburser of money and there is no apparent accountability/ assessment of their various assistance programs. Moreover, the premier body which cannot even preserve its own annual reports does not generate much confidence about its vision, planning skills and effectiveness of its operations.

The imposing National Museum is another institution which could swell ones heart with pride with the collection it holds. However, an interested layman unarmed with academic credentials could never gain access to see the objects which are not on display but are catalogued and are in its store; he dare not undertake scholarly research.  The mammoth set up allows only a bona fide scholar to make a special request for accessing its archives. The library at the National Museum is at any time empty with hardly any users; but even a Senior Research Fellow, Ministry of Culture, Government of India is reluctantly allowed its use only for a day or two, for reference purposes. The kind permission is accorded only after the scholar assumes a grovelling demeanour to please the librarian. The seemingly surplus staff is usually seen twiddling its thumbs with no work. But a visitor is shooed away with myriad eligibility norms and discouraged from using the library. One cannot but help contrast it with the British Library in London which trusts even a mere verbal information by a foreigner about his scholarly credentials and promptly issues its membership card after a brief, hassle free procedure.

National Gallery on Trafalgar Square in  London is always abuzz with visitors

The British Museum in London does seem to be the most visited museum in the UK

One cannot but help but remember museums like the Victoria and Albert Museum, the National Gallery, the National Museum and the National Portrait Gallery in London which are at any time full of interested visitors. Often one sees droves of dedicated parents on trips to the museums with their children and also innumerable youngsters. The friendly atmosphere and the audio visual aids/guides to familiarise the visitors with the objects in the museums are a delight; which sadly, the Indian museums do not offer much of. Museums in India are tomb like with an air of decadence, separation and alienation from the artefacts; while in contrast, the above mentioned museums offer a lively air of belonging and continuance of the heritage and history to the visitor.

Ram Gopal's painting by Feliks Topolski at the National Portrait Gallery in London

The Powis Castle in Wales where Clive's Museum is located

The Clive Museum at the Powis castle in Wales displays many Indian pieces including a couple of swords and a tent belonging to Tipu Sultan. The museum hand who was stationed at the display chamber was ever courteous and one could even detect a tinge of sensitiveness on her part to the issue that such objects of our national pride found their way to Britain. It was most gracious of the staff there to assure an ordinary Indian visitor that our treasures are well looked after and respected in their country; and that they are as proud of our heritage as we are. Every question was answered with utmost alacrity and sincerity which definitely is the hallmark of culture and heritage, be it ours or theirs.

The politics of propagation and preservation of culture and heritage in our country, at one extreme, has assumed farcical proportions. At the other end they do help safeguard them. Another glorious institution, the fourth estate, plays a significant role in the safeguarding of our culture and its art forms. While many newspapers have done away with the reporting of classical arts, the others which do so cannot assure much beyond mere reporting. There are few serious writers who plod along with brave efforts at writing and educating the readers on classical arts, albeit always keeping in mind the need to catch eyeballs. There are also others whose reports are incredulously manufactured under the cloud of the unhealthy nexus of the media and the artists. Often the philanthropic policy of a section of media which still devotes space for classical arts boomerangs at them and they become the unwitting propagators of dubious standards in arts. Mediocrity and the outright lack of ethics in reporting at the individual level by the half baked experts on the subject do the harm. The basic question still remains, whose art and heritage is it anyway and who are its guardians?

Pascal Gielen(2010) rightly says that it is a sociological commonplace that cultural practices always go hand in hand with a strict hierarchy of values and norms; and according to classical sociology an institution apart from possessing other characteristics also brings with it a moral authority and a certain historicity. It may well be significant to recognise that great institutions/ businesses of any country stand out not only for their exemplary successes but also the cultural values in their operations and end products which they extend to the farthest reaches of the society.