Wednesday, March 13, 2013

She danced for Her Lord!



Yes, she was a Devdasi…And she danced for her Lord!
As the clock struck 12 and the temple grounds welled
As Bells went DONG, and each heart swelled
Bejewelled, bedecked she danced for her Lord.

The sky looked down with its twinkling eyes
 The crowd watched her, that moonless night
 The haunting rhythms, the swaying gait…her search was on
 As she danced for her Lord, that sleepless night!

She spoke aloud with her language soft…
Could anyone decipher...? She knew not…
She looked past them, and still went on…
With each spoken gesture, she was reborn!

Awesome! Wonderful! Enchanting! … They said
 Bouts of jubilation, she hardly felt
For she had already entered that zone
Of blissful existence, a dancer adorns!

Then, she walked in the temple corridors,
Towards her Lord with her bells still on...!
He stood there vibrant, energetic, and complete
Fully awake, as the next day dawned!

Chants, hymns, bells and aarathi…
She stood gazing at Him for long
As she gently closed her eyes,
She felt Him within, his magic was on…

She felt complete, filled to the brim
With something, she knew not what…
“Yes! I am a Devdasi”, she felt…
And how can I not dance for my Lord?












Thursday, March 7, 2013

Kannagi



I have always been intrigued by Kannagi, the epitome of womanhood, endurance, patience, faith, power. I have preferred to stare in awe and wonder at the idol of Kodungallur bhagavathy, the Pratishta of Kannagi, than to bow down in veneration. The image of Kannagi haunts me… She visits me every now and then… through stories, images, books, temples, rituals, dance….She keeps reminding me that I am one of her tribe…”Am I?”, I wonder!
On this day, when my inbox, mails, and newspapers are filled with glorified stories on women and their achievements, when women find a reason to applaud themselves and the leaps and great strides of their peers…,Let me tell you the story of Kannagi! Not the Kannagi of the Tamil epic Shilappadikaram, or the Bhagavathy for Cheranadu, or the Kannagi who burnt down Pandya desam….! This is the story of Kannagi, who inspires me every day, who brings a smile on my face, who cleans and cuts, and dries and folds for me, who brightens up my day!
I have never seen her cry, complain or brood. One day she came with a swollen face, but her smile was still on. When I asked her what happened to her face, she said, “My husband came drunk and hit me”. I couldn’t believe she was still smiling as she said, “All this is nothing akka!, its over…I have to work.. it gives me peace of mind and I am happy!”
The other day, she came late for work, still with her smile on… “Sorry Akka! My tenth standard daughter has failed. I had to go to her school. She has got herself into some affair with a boy in the neighbourhood. She wants to quit schooling and get married. What can I do? I hoped she would study well, and do a decent job.”
I wondered how she kept smiling inspite of all these problems. The next day I enquired about her situation at home, and she said still smiling, “I am telling myself not to worry. Every problem will have a solution. And I am waiting for mine.’  Having said this she resumed her daily chores with enthusiasm.
During those times when I have my face in books, and when my mind yearns for a dose of caffeine, she comes...”Akka, have this coffee...”
During those times, when I have to leave my family behind , she says,”Akka , I am there, don’t worry!...”
She is a mother, sister, friend, caretaker…
I have never seen anyone loving her job the way she does, nor have I seen a more sincere, open, down to earth person, a loving human being…! She might not be known to the world… but she is an achiever, a leader, a mother,... who stands up each time she falters with a smile of faith , hope and dreams…! To this spirit I salute…!

Monday, February 18, 2013

There She was : my Goddess!



There she was, my Goddess… She came without a knock
She scanned me with her intense glance, I shuddered… a pleasant shock
With those kindly eyes she spoke: Not words, but vibes of love…
A gentle touch:  She held on… A BLESSING! She did endow

She sat amidst the swelling crowd… still holding on to me…
Still gazing in my empty eyes, she gave it life and glee…
Before I knew they all had come, all without a clout…
Some faces, I knew: Some, far in time, All came in without a doubt.

With them came a sound... a sound of music soft…
It wafted into space and time… I sat there almost lost!
“What was this?” I probed, “Was this my inner song?”
“Who are they?” I delved, “Are they those souls, lost long?”

I knew not what it was; I knew not who they were…
I only knew her, My Goddess!  Her look, her touch, so real, so sure!
Then a bugle went on... my hand knew to snooze it off…
SHE WAS GONE… , the crowd, the song too… for me they didn’t stop.

It was dark outside, and in the room, But I did find my way!
For HER gentle touch, HER tender glance … Will not let me astray!
She was my Goddess, My Lotus!  She glided in that stream….
She held me close with her loving hug! Though it was in my Dream….

Saturday, February 16, 2013

A Day to remember!



My mind has refused to grow up beyond my college years. Chronologically, though my age graph was rising, psychologically it was static. My body gave gentle reminders, now and then that the only permanent factor in life was change.  A few twists and turns in my life also nudged me to grow up.
My phone rang …….
“Hey! Would you mind being our chief guest for Arts club inauguration in our college?” It was a family friend P.
“ME? Why me? Didn’t you find anyone else?”  This news, in fact amused me.
“What will I have to do?” I asked
“Just light the lamp and wish them luck!” P was cool.
“Ok!” I said as I was unaware of the real situation.
Things were quite different when I landed at the college grounds. The function was in the open air gallery and there were around 1000 carefree souls, hooting, dancing, howling, whistling and greeting me. My heart missed a beat. Where was I? This isn’t going to be easy…! .
As I was sitting on the dais along with the Principal, professors and union members of the college, I tried to mentally write my speech in my head. One professor gently whispered, “Could you speak in Malayalam?” “Sure”, I smiled hiding my apprehension.
The next moment I was standing in front of the microphone, trying to translate my thoughts in Malayalam. Though I could speak the language, I was not confident in using the right words. My multi-lingual existence had left me speechless during such occasions when I needed to do justice to one language. I started my extempore in Malayalam… “ Malayalam is not my mother tongue ….” I said this in Malayalam and was received with applause from the students.  I told them how this moment takes me back to my college days… and the activities like these fill our memory banks than the time spent in the class rooms.. (loud applause again)… I knew I had caught them right.. I told them about my confused existence in my growing up years, about not having a clear goal and not knowing where my future lies( applause again)… When I asked them whether there are any poor souls among them like me I got the whole lot of them raising their hands… I knew they were listening and that I had scored.
They wanted me to perform and I enjoyed performing for these students who were rapt with attention than for any elite, knowledgeable group of artistes. I could clearly experience the vibes, the positive energy.. And I once again experienced the power of tradition, power of culture, power of art.
They were eager to listen to the rhythms of our soil… each one holding the rhythm in their palms as I explained them about the connection between the heart beat and the rhythms in dance. Most of them were not initiated into any art form, they had not even seen classical performances … but they were ready to listen, see and understand… By the end of the talk and performance, the ovation I received was indeed a moment to treasure.  A moment I wanted to revisit, so that I am empowered and inspired.
The transformation in the audience at the end of the lecture was a proof that spoke volumes about the positive impact of art. For a moment I felt blessed to be an artiste, to be an instrument in the hands of the Divine.
Even though I had stepped out of my college days as a confused soul, with blurred vision about my future…, as I stepped out of the stage that day, I knew I had a purpose, and that it unfolds at various stages of my life… I only needed to recognize and accept to experience it!






Monday, February 4, 2013

As I Stare...




As I stare…
“Who are you?” I ask myself, glaring at the mirror on the wall
“Who are you?” I ask myself, combing my hair, letting it fall…
Searching those eyes, I line them black
Probing that face, I deck with MAC
My cell phone blinks, it’s time to go
Gazing , waving , she stares back…

As I stride…
Down the corridor,  in the lane,  on the street…
Some give a passing glance,  some stare,  some smile…
Carefully careless,  amazingly aware less,  mindfully mind less...
She walks by…

As I sit…
Amidst the throng, among the horde, in the crowd…
Greeting, pleasing, exchanging…
I pause awhile, to meet myself…
She smiles, engaging!

As I stand…
To express, to deliver, to translate…
Thoughts, words, deeds drift by…
I am just a channel I realize…
Tune in… and she flows by!