Gift a Story

I am in love with the world of imagination. I love reliving the stories of others and the worlds of the past. I love immersing myself into to the stories my grandparents share. I love listening to the endless tales of people whom I care about. There is indeed, some magic about ordinary days. And there is a special joy in sharing these moments with those who care for you. Although these stories are essentially palimpsests, there is a momentary expansion of perspective, a sudden surge of empathy and a whole new side to the person, you never even thought of. Or perhaps a side that had been forgotten along the pages of time. What if some of these stories bring with them treasure troves of wisdom, which might be buried in sand someday, if not told to anyone; maybe the ingredient to save humanity from itself; maybe the purpose of life!

Scrap Creation - A Sea of Eyes

The doing of a 'scrap-art' junkie ;)
Used chocolate wrapper, dettol (yeah, really.), a piece of recycled paper and of course, crayons :P

The Link to My KSG Performance Jan 2015

Last year I got the Best Dancer Award - which is why I got a chance to perform this year too.
Check it out peeps :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9hxY6BRdOc&feature=youtu.be

Dance starts at 4 min 20s ... ;)
A big thanks to my parents, my Guru, grandparents :), and all others who've made this possible and been with me through The Journey!

Working with the Mind - Coping with the Adverse

Power of the mind exceeds limits and breaks restricting walls set by the physical body.  Harnessing this power in circumstances important to oneself, helps bring out what is best.  Through the course of a Bharatanatyam tour of the US and Canada, I picked up this skill among others.  A part of an ensemble of eight dancers, a sound person and a light designer, I travelled across the US and Canada to various prestigious venues this October and November.  Long, tiring journeys, hotels, airports, homes of organizers and hosts, green rooms, the continuing backstage drama, pre-performance stress and pressure, packed theaters, the loud blinding beam of lights, 'state-of-the-art' stages, multiple standing ovations, unmissable post-performance adrenaline high, photo sessions with 'fans', critics, friends and colleagues, unpacking, repacking and packing off within a matter of minutes to a whole new experience - 'a life, as I began to know it'. (whaddup movie reference!)  

Very often our dance company would have to perform continuously, without even a day's gap, at cities separated by huge distances.  For example, we had our first show in Portland on the evening of the day we had arrived from India.  Jet-lagged, with a terrible cold, I climbed up the stage and managed to pull off a decent act.  The next day, after a brief stay in Washington DC, we flew to Austin for a show the same evening.  We landed in Austin at around noon, collected all of 13 big suitcases from the carousel and set out to perform at five in the evening at a venue that was located a few hours away from the airport.  All of us were hungry and exhausted to say the least.  To share a little secret, just for your ears, one of the principal dancers of the crew had missed her flight to join us there.  Therefore, the stress of covering for her was looming on our teacher's mind.  Don't worry, you can breathe a sign of respite now just like all of us in the company did then when we saw her at the dressing room - she arrived well in time for the show, somehow.  It was close to four by the time we reached the theater.  Being our second show, we were inexperienced at slathering make-up onto our faces, doing our hairstyle and dressing up in less than an hour - usually we would take close to two!  Somehow, given our constraints, we managed to go up on stage just in time - fact is, people in the US are just quite the punctual bunch unlike most audiences in India.  Let me present to you the 'harsh reality' of our state at the time.  We stood near the wings, in absolute darkness, with no time to warm up.  Not surprisingly, even we tried to warm-up and stretch, our bodies just would not budge.  And there we stood, half a minute away from getting on stage.  I was getting worked up - how, in all probability, would I be able to perform for the next two hours if warming-up itself seemed a Herculean task.  I breathed deep and calmed down.  I had only one thing to focus on for the next two hours - my dance.  Through the performance, I relied entirely on mental power to push my body - I worked with my mind and pulled off a great show.    

Multiple standing ovations rang through the theatre during the curtain call.  The show was a great success.  

                 

Latika: A Resilient Fighter

Demure and calm, Vanthala Latikaben Patel (name changed), sat up in her tiny shanty of a shop.  Some translucent plastic boxes with plain buttered cookies and crisps stood orderly behind an array of colorful packets of 'paan masala', 'beedi', 'gutka', 'supari' or mouth freshener and old salted chips.  Two young children, one older than the other circled Latikaben, bubbling with joy.  There were three people sitting around in that open leepan[1] shanty.  They were two men wearing discolored turbans and an old lady peculiarly robed in a pink piece of cloth.  This scene caught my eye as I, took my first few steps into and around a beautiful village called Laxmipuram.  For the next few days, I was going to be in this village situated in Munching Put Mandal, along with 12 of my classmates as a part of Experiential Learning.  Before having second thoughts, I knew I had found the right person.  With a stole wrapped loosely around my head, I walked silently and sat next to her.  Unaware that we shared the same language, I did my job of observing, smiling and understanding the activities in the shanty.  They conversed with ease in a tribal dialect of Oriya, smiling and laughing frequently.  Both the children chuckled on seeing me there and I too threw smiles back at them.  After a few minutes of silent observation, the strong stares that hung over me seemed to weaken and I gathered the courage to say a few words.  In Hindi, knowing that I was about to turn myself into a laughing stock, I asked the lady whether those children were hers.  She gladly replied in Hindi, saying that they were.  I was surprised at the fact that she had a good grip over Hindi.  The fact that she knew Hindi, served as an incentive for me to flow into a conversation with her.  I asked where she was from.  She said she was from Gujarat.  This took me by surprise, completely.  What is the probability of finding a Gujarati woman living with her family in a remote tribal village in Andhra Pradesh, largely isolated from the outside world?  Highly minuscule.  The stars connected that very moment and I knew then, that I had found the right person for my psychology case study.  Vanthala Latikaben Patel was the chosen one.  I felt so lucky for having found a person from my birth state.  Over the next few days of my stay in Laxmipuram, I rejoiced and felt at peace in Mother Nature's lap.  My friendship and rapport with Latikaben too, blossomed.  I would sneak off early in the morning at four with Latikaben to a serene spring in the village.  Walking back with heavy pots bearing water on our heads, we would talk about each other's lives.  While Latikaben gracefully moved with two heavy loads on top of her head, I would be, more often than not, struggling to keep the water from spilling and maintain my balance.  It was not easy.  After some field work during the day, I would once again slip off to her home, which was right beside the CCN (Community Coordination Network) Sahyog's campus.  The reason for such enthusiasm was the story of Latikaben’s life, itself. 

Latikaben is a mother of three and breadwinner of her family.  She is married to Karanbhai, who belongs to Laxmipuram village, Andhra Pradesh.  Her eldest child, Pratiksha, is 10 years old and is studying in grade seven at a tribal boarding school in Munching Put.  Pratiksha visits home only during winter and summer holidays.  The other two children are Yuvraj (7) and Prem (4).  Both of them stay with her, at home.    

Born around 25 years ago in a small village in Ankleshwar, Gujarat, this mother of three, was the eldest of three siblings.  When she was very young, her mother left her father and married another man.  At that time, Latika, who had attended school only for a day, never saw the gates of her school again.  Out of abject poverty, her father requested her to look after household work and her younger siblings, so that he could go out and earn for the family.  Her younger brother and sister, Sanjaybhai and Gitaben, both went to school but dropped out after seventh grade.  Sanjaybhai now works as a driver in Ankleshwar and Gitaben continues to reside in the village with a family of her own.  Latikaben, with tears in her eyes, said that she regrets not going to school.  “I was so interested and excited to go to school and study.  But I never could.  It was not possible, at any cost.  Had I gone to school and studied well, I would still be in Gujarat today, having enough money in my hands.”  When Latikaben was around fifteen years old, she married Karanbhai.  Their story is quite unusual.  Karanbhai hailed from a poverty-stricken family in Malkangiri village, which is situated on the Andhra Pradesh – Odisha border.  After having studied up to grade three, he dropped out of school so that he could earn wages and support his family.  A firm called Shilpa Cements recruited him as a laborer and after having worked till his late teens with them, they shifted their factory to Ankleshwar, Gujarat.  Karanbhai too relocated to Ankleshwar to continue working.  As fate had it, Karanbhai and Latikaben met, fell in love and after having gained her father’s approval, got married.  They set up their home in Ankleshwar itself and had three young children.  Soon after, tragedy struck.  Karanbhai met with an industrial accident and injured his right arm.  This blow left his arm, which was very crucial to his work, disabled.  Unable to sustain themselves there, the family decided to move to Laxmipuram.  This relocation was a big blow to Latikaben and her children.  Many a night Latikaben would cry to bed.  Her children too would cry often.  Latikaben had to deal with two blows simultaneously.  Because her husband could no longer engage in unskilled labor, it was she who had to earn for her family.  Never before had she worked outside her home.  On top of that, she was burdened with settling into an unknown place, with new, strange people (very different from her folks back home), peculiar customs and a drastically different climate.  She had moved from a warm dry desert like place to a wet, cool, rainy place.  This change, she said really shook her and took a toll on her mentally.  She was often in a state of distress, due to which she lost a lot of weight.  While revealing this to me, she showed me her blouse which appeared as if it were stitched for a heavier person – she had thinned down greatly.  This unusual trajectory of her life was influenced by some significant events in her life.  As a young child, her mother deserting her father, shaped her belief about a family.  At that time, she vowed to herself that she would never leave her children, at any cost.  To this day, she has clung on to that.  The second significant event that she mentioned was when she stopped going to school.  Once again, this decision taken by her father dented her self-confidence.  She has always felt that she has missed out on studying and educating herself.  Once again, she took a vow that she will make sure that her kids never miss out on their schooling.  In case of her elder daughter, Pratiksha, she has kept her word.  But it is ironical that Yuvraj, her younger son, does not go to school regularly.  This is not because the family cannot afford it but it is because Yuvraj is uninterested in studying at school, according to Latikaben.  The births of her children, too were significant in her life.  After going through a rough ride along the vicissitudes of life, Latikaben feels a streak of hopelessness.  Although Karanbhai now avails a pension of 1500 rupees a month from Shilpa Cements, a serious shortage of money has kept her and her family from visiting Gujarat, for the last few years.  Moreover, her small family in Gujarat has, as she says, disowned her for moving to a remote tribal village.  Due to an acute lack of facilities such as network coverage, general stores, roads and many more, she finds it very difficult to be in touch with her sanguinary family.  In fact, though she stays in a village where some families own cows and sell milk, her family relies on milk powder that she buys from Munching Put.  This shocked me because I have always been under the impression that tribal folk fundamentally use natural products for day to day activities.  Using milk powder instead of natural milk for preparing their morning tea opened my eyes to their limitations.  Finally, her poor, deteriorating health keeps her from giving her best.  She was animatedly mentioning about how she got poisoned by a snake which had slid into her kitchen, just last month.  She did not take any allopathic medicine to treat the bite but instead relied on traditional tribal medication that certain members of that tribe administered.  She seems alright now.  After having moved to Laxmipuram, Latikaben feels that she has adjusted well to the customs and traditions of the tribe.  From stringent rules such as fasting for long hours during the month of ‘Kartik’ and avoiding eating food outside her tribe to wearing a sacred thread around her arm, she has adapted herself to certain aspects of her environment as a fish takes to water.  Her fluency in Oriya and Telugu, languages that she never knew before, is impeccable.  However, though she has attuned herself to such rituals, she still holds on to the values she learnt back home.  Though members of her husband’s tribe are voracious eaters of meat, she remains a vegetarian.  Although most women and men of that tribe drink heavily, she stays sober.  But at the same time, members of the tribe are friendly with her and she has a prominent role to play in celebrating festivals.  In fact, her husband, himself, used to drink heavily until recently.  At this point in time, she has no dreams or aspirations for herself.  But she has many dreams for her family.  She dreams that one day, her entire family including her own children and her siblings from Gujarat would live under the same roof in harmony.  She strongly aspires for her children to study well, educate themselves and be financially independent.  From all our conversations and the facts mentioned above, it is evident that Latikaben is optimistic about her children’s education.  She has a terrific amount of determination and yet is unconditionally caring and loving towards her little children.  In terms of material resources, neither she nor Karanbhai own farmland.  But they are building a house in Laxmipuram, on a plot beside their current residence.

This case study has taken shape fundamentally because of Latikaben’s willingness to share significant aspects of her life with me.  It is hard to find people who are open to sharing details of their lives with ‘strangers’.  I feel honored to have interviewed Latikaben who did not hold back cherished details of her life which were essential for this case study.                                           

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[1] A structure made of cattle dung, water and dry straw.  Houses are widely made of leepans in rural India.   

The Truth Beckons Me...

I have been meaning to pen down some of my thoughts.

I have always had and will continue to have unshakable faith in the Lord.  And by virtue of this faith, I have been detecting certain patterns in my life.  This has only been possible because of my Lord's guidance.  Over the years, these observable patterns of events that my life flows into have taught me to tune myself to them.  I have an innate rhythm to flow into the myriad situations in my life.  This inherent sense of rhythm has developed ever since I realized my faith in the Lord.  Of course, both faith in the Divine Being and rhythm have always been ingrained in my spirit.  So these patterns I was talking about organize themselves in a cycle and the cycle has been repeated several times now - as far as I can remember.  I deduced that life flows in circular cycles.  Starting with a high state of consciousness, as life flows through various circumstances, my state of consciousness lowers gradually but at a quick rate and then hits a deep low.  During this challenging time, I struggle with raising my state of consciousness.  This travail comprises of my intellect and mind trying to waver me from the duties at hand.  I am swayed, instantaneously by one call of my mind.  During times like these, my mind seems unsettling and distracted.  The upward journey is a true challenge.  In order to even embark on it, a will to do so must remain lit.  Very often I find myself fall down after a few steps up.  This is perhaps because my will to embark on a climb to Divine Purity is not strong enough - my will does not completely and faithfully align with my aspiration.  But once I aspire for Supreme Light and Purity, once my aspiration is pure and strong, once I tolerate and accept nothing but the Divine Light and a powerful, faithful will that is much stronger than the fancies of my mind, can I truly embark on my journey upward.  And slowly, unconsciously, I reach an even higher state of consciousness.  The moment one is able to stop the cycle at the highest state of consciousness and remain in it or travel further up eternally, the spirit and body are enlightened.  The once circular cycle opens up into one ray, stretching upward infinitely.  My body, vital senses, mind and spirit glow with Divine Light - making my being a pristine instrument of the Divine Will.  There are only two things which I must never forget.  One is unbreakable Faith in the Supreme seated within me and around me.  Second is persevering with sincerity.  The Truth beckons me.    

Virasat - It is

Where the glories of the past and the victories of the future meet - that is Virasat. 
The heritage of a land ancient is Virasat.
Through treacherous travails and trials, it is Virasat that never fades.
Virasat is here to stay.
Every pore and cell endlessly soaks in Virasat from birth to death.
And the soul, basking in Virasat never dies.
Virasat is here to stay.
Virasat shows us the way.