Meeting "Kaavad" artist, a unique story teller

Art of storytelling in India is very rich heritage that defines our culture and identity. Sadly, we have lost touch with this art form in today's fast age of internet, animation, cinema and mass media that are predominant part of our life. Recently, at a handicraft exhibition, I discovered an ancient, mesmerizing form of audio-visual storytelling using "Kaavad" as the medium.    

Artist Satya Narayan, demonstrating the design of Kaavad 

Kaavad is a compact wooden box/shrine, with multiple folding doors with vibrant illustrations portraying mythological stories from the Ramayana, Mahabharata and folk tales. It is a medium for beautiful rendition that combines tradition, art, culture and identity of Rajasthan, passed on through generations.  

Kaavad in different sizes on display at the stall

At the exhibition, I met an artist, Satya Narayan Suthar, from Bassi and what followed was completely enthralling! Satya Narayan ebulliently explained how Kaavad is integral part of tradition of storytelling. While showing painted surfaces opening outwards into multiple panels with hinged doors and flaps, he deciphered significance of each scene depicted on Kaavad and explained how the performance of Kavadiya Bhats (men who travel like bards from one place to another with Kaavads, reciting stories through their songs and dance that unfold with every opened door on the Kaavad) reaches end with opening of innermost chamber, that has picture of a deity. 

 Satya Narayan, narrating story depicted in Kaavad

Satya Narayan proudly told me about how he learnt this craft from his father. The practice of combining painted visuals to a narrative and linking it with performance was a popular tradition in many interior parts of Rajasthan and he narrated interesting experiences of how such traditions created interesting bonds between the story teller and his listeners through fascinating world of mythical heroes and Gods. 

Brightly coloured  Kaavad , with  stories from Indian mythology

Apart from his art what I liked about Satya Narayan was the openness with which he answered every single curious question I asked. There was innocence and rawness that one finds in people from smaller towns and villages. He told me how each exhibition opened up new prospects for his art and helped him receive patronage from many people from India and abroad. 

Kaavad,  in unconventional colour, white

One of the most interesting Kaavads was designed as learning device for very young children. Colourful boxes of fun designs with pictures and alphabets brought back memories of innocent days of early childhood.   

Kaavad,, designed as learning device

After having seen different kaavads in detail I was spellbound by the collage of vibrant images that were individualistic yet versatile and had so much relevance even in today's times. There was evident proof of this craft having evolved over years. Traditionally known for being painted with bright coloured images of Gods and heroes, Kaavads were seen in white colour and some were designed as interesting device for learning. 

Kaavad, with interesting illustrations used for learning

My rendezvous with the artist Satya Narayan Suthar took me to completely different world where against the backdrop of story telling a sacred space of belonging between the people was evoked. A world where there was a beautiful synergy between the artist, his art form and the audience all intertwined creating one whole. 

Do you remember eons ago when there used to exist a colourful device called, bioscope that looked so intriguing that one could not resist being lost in its fascinating world? Meeting Kaavad artist Satya Narayan Suthar transported me to that magical world instantly and I could not be blamed for not wanting to come back to reality!  

What all I miss on this festival of kites

Huge kites displayed at the  roadside shop 

I love festivals! I love the brilliant energy it sets in every household. I love the whole package of gatherings, endless conversations, laughter, sharing, downing special festival goodies without iota of guilt or shame for calorie consumption and endless fun that festivals bring. 

Festivals have connotations that give our hearts what we desire most; a sense of belonging that is precious and real and a space where even those run down spaces of our own existence find familiarity of comfort and solace.

Having lived in Gujarat for more than three decades where Makar Sankranti is BIG festival and celebrated with great fanfare I miss those celebrations here in Mumbai. 

I miss the shagun gifts given by my mother and tilgul (a delicacy prepared with sesames seeds and jaggery).

I miss the vibrant sky full of colourful kites.

I miss a week long preparation; a delightful experience of great anticipation prior to Makar Sankranti.

I miss flying kites on terrace and running after the kites and catching them.

I miss the loud music played unabashedly and having to shout to have any conversation. 

I miss watching tiny tots holding on the string of kites soaring high, with their fathers and the beautiful sense of wonder in their little eyes. 

I miss finding a kite that falls on the terrace when you are not looking and read interesting messages written over it that makes you giggle.

I miss being a silent witness to the new romance taking shape from the nearby terraces.

I miss getting Sun tanned while flying kites and then sulking for days.

I miss all that cheer and shouting when a kite flying match is won. 

I miss watching kandils (paper lanterns)  flying in the sky after the Sun set.

I miss the terrace parties that continue till wee hours and then crashing in the bed the next day.

God, I so much miss being in Gujarat on this day! L 

Meeting little Dali on Mumbai local train

Sameer,  with his Salvador Dali like mustache!

Once in a while, I get possessed with the "get out of softly padded walls of your comfort zones, dare to do difficult and show the courage girl!" spirit. Following that spirit about a fortnight back I ventured out by Mumbai local train. Travelling by the local trains is quite an adventure! I can't boast about having much experience of Mumbai local trains but have always been fascinated by the amazing character of the city that one gets to see in the travel. If you want to experience the real essence of this city, you must travel by local trains, that too, in second class where you get to see interesting menagerie of people.    

Back to my travel; there I was, admiring my luck for having successfully boarded the train during lean hours and having found almost empty compartment. The repugnant smells of body odours of the passengers, fresh flowers, scented oils, cheap food and hideously strong perfumes exploded from every corner making me almost puke. Posters in shockingly loud colours, jarring mobile ringtones, loud conversations enveloped me in sensory overload, constantly reminding me that a barrage of impressions, shocks and jolts are part of the package of amazing experience of travel by local train in Mumbai. There was a beautiful order within the apparent disorder, just like it happens in my mind.

I started to slowly adjust to the deafening cacophony of urban chaos from various directions and wondering what a painful grind it must be for people who commute every single day for their work. Observing tired, agitated, stony faces and the complete surrender to the destiny hidden  in the eyes of regular commuters makes one realize how life is a constant struggle for most in this metropolis beaming with glamour and power. A few young, happy faces of college going students, bubbling with great energy brought me some respite. 

When the train reached Dadar station; a kid barely five, boarded the train with his hawker mother in her twenties and visibly pregnant, struggling to balance with one hand a dangling infant on her shoulder and with other, plastic trays full with cheap products on her head. As the train caught the speed, the kid started performing a dance with an iron ring. He sang latest Bollywood songs and with little pelvic thrust, danced very awkwardly passing the iron ring through his body simultaneously. His performance was amateur but with his artificial Salvador Dali like mustache and oversized cap, it turned out to be immensely hilarious. Nervous with the mean stares, unkind comments and some laughter, the kid looked at his mother helplessly. Her alert eyes kept a tight check on  customers scanning her goods from her plastic trays and her son. 

I called the kid, asked his name and tried to strike conversation to which he obliged after getting an approval from his mother through her expressions. Before I could talk much, it was time for the kid to alight from the train at the next station and board another compartment. Fortunately, I had taken his photograph just in time with his permission and he had approved it with a big, innocent smile. Hurriedly, I slipped a fifty rupee note to the kid and silently saluted the woman who despite being in her third trimester managed to work so efficiently in such harsh conditions. 

Later, I learned from the regular commuters that it was only second day of probation for the kid and people loved him as he was a welcome distraction in otherwise mundane and tedious journey. With that conversation, I became little sad thinking about Sameer. His big, beautiful eyes with that piercing gaze snapped something within and a few questions started haunting me. Would Sameer ever go to school? Would he, like the normal kids ever have a birthday party? Would he find escape from the dreary life he was subjected to? How would he survive? Would he drift from torture of different unskilled jobs from this young age? What skills he would learn? Would he fall in wrong hands and get lost in this chaotic urban sprawl? Would he ever get to play, like a normal child?  I got a lump in my throat thinking about the sad glimpse of life I had just witnessed. I tried to console myself with empty "everything will be all right" but I knew deep down everything was not okay for Sameer. I prayed God to grant Sameer a normal, happy life and wriggled my way through exit at Churchgate station.

I know, I am going back to check on Sameer soon and hopefully be able to do something meaningful. Till then, that innocent face of little Dali is going to haunt me for sure!  

Where is the party tonight ?

Congratulations! We survived 2012! Not that I ever believed in Mayan prophecy but it was good fun watching the ruckus around it world over! J  

New Year party was the epicenter of most of conversations since last few days. Honestly,  I am not in mood for celebrating the New Year eve. Past two years have been extremely difficult for me personally as I lost both my parents. The struggle to cope with their loss has been my toughest challenge in life. The perfect tribute for them would be to accept this reality, move on with the value system they imbibed in me and have great faith in goodness and celebrate each day just like my father did!

I will be heading to a friend's place since staying home alone is strictly not allowed by family and friends. I prefer small gatherings to the usual loud parties and big crowds as it allows people to strike conversations. The amazing part of such delightful sharing is opening up whole new worlds and the realization of interesting intellectual, emotional compatibility with even perfect strangers sometimes! 

I am generally in for celebration any time but the way people go bonkers about the New year parties is amusing. Why all the fuss about it? How does it matter really? The other day a friend of mine was shocked to know I was not willing to blow my fortune over a dress or special hair style for the New year eve. "Its New Year party Simi, common" she quipped. Big deal! Are such celebrations about really enjoying and welcoming the New year with people who matter or making a "statement"?

Celebration, for me means being with people I love and care for, sharing silly laughter and conversations that instantly turn into absolute madness, spoiling loved ones with my elaborately prepared signature dishes, enjoying the greatest reward of wonderful tributes of love nurtured through years, the silent understanding of words unsaid and being thankful for the precious blessings God has so generously bestowed upon me. I don't need any particular day to associate with celebration as each new day brings in so much to be thankful for. 

So, here is wishing all my wonderful readers a very happy, healthy and peaceful 2013 ! Rock the party!             

Shame India!

Words fail to express my anger and anguish for the inhuman incident of gang rape and death threatening assault of the young 23 year old girl in Delhi last Sunday. Episodes of women being subjected to acts of sexual perversion, abuse, kidnapping, rape, burning, acid attacks, incest, dowry deaths and many such gruesome acts of oppression across all categories and class, are becoming so rampant that these shocking events have become very "routine" and after a while, are conveniently forgotten! 

The incident of gang rape in Delhi has received lot of media attention resulting in huge protests, causing law and order situation. When such event is blown to this proportion, sometimes the genuine protesters get sidelined and many other people jump in to claim every possible bit of media attention and recognition for their brand of politics or interests. I hope and pray this anger, media attention, candle lighting and non-stop debates on the issue would result in Indian government taking deterrent action for those involved in such spine chilling crimes. 

The protest, as I write this has reached a point where demand for death penalty for the guilty of this heinous crime is increasing. I understand the anguish and shudder to think about plight of the girl who had to suffer this nightmare. However, after witnessing brouhaha in media post this tragic incident I can't stop thinking, who all do we hang for such crimes committed against women in India?  

Rapists don't belong to any particular city, caste or community. This is a kind of breed which is  product of environment that treats women as commodity ; to be used, abused and treat inhumanly  without iota of any guilt or shame. Such mindset gets nurtured from very formative years that deeply ingrain the message that men are superior to women. 

The first few books a first grader in India reads discriminating lines like, "Ram, paathshala ja. Geeta, paani bharkar la." (Ram, go to school. Geeta, fetch water (from well)). I am sure all of us have experienced/seen how boys get special treatment in Indian homes compared to girls. Sex determination tests are illegal in India yet they are still practised rampantly even in metro cities. Do I need to even discuss depiction of women and the derogatory terms used for them in our advertisements and most of our Bollywood movies and its vulgar songs? 

What is the real issue here?

Our real issue is sick mindset towards women. The real issue is painfully disturbing, rotting stench of female foetuses that are being devoured by sewage from rural as well as our global metro cities. Our real issue is charred bodies in dowry and tandoor deaths. Our real issue is hanged bodies in "honour killings". Our real issue is society blaming women for "inviting" trouble with the way they dress! Our real issue is us expecting the government to "fix" every possible problem without taking our responsibility seriously.  

Our real need is to change our thinking, mindset and attitude towards women. Death penalty is not a permanent solution. It might help proving a point to some extent but we need to address the issue strongly from core level in our education, in our homes and society in general. Our real need is that our law and order machinery take action against pettiest of the crime so that nobody dares to play with law and order. 

Expressing anger, giving speeches, posting angry messages on social networking sites, demanding death penalty or castration for the guilty of rape case, lighting candles won't lead us to any concrete solution. The solution lies in understanding that we need to educate ourselves on being a civilized society and we have to participate actively in the change. 

Being a woman, mother and responsible citizen of this country, I feel ashamed that such dreadful events happen in democracy like India that is boasting to be great power to watch for in future! I feel great to see so many young people protesting on the street of Delhi for demanding justice for the gang rape case. The onus is on media and us to not let the opportunistic activists hijack the whole issue and use it to their own advantage.

I bemoan lack of will and vigilance that any civilized society should display and be accountable for. It is sad that we lack basic education in humanity and forget that education starts from home. Sad, we forget it conveniently and remain silent when we should not! 

Its time for some deep reflection and finding answers for some very disturbing questions.