Raga & Rabindranath

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the hear of time, love of one for another.

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

What better words to describe Rabindranath’s intensity as a philosopher, poet and songwriter than these? And that we remember him to this date as the greatest poet of all times “in life after life, in age after age, forever”?

I can’t remember where I heard the first Rabindrasangeet of my life. It was just about everywhere, in every nook and corner of my parental home and I stumbled upon it at all times....Baba crooningAmar matha noto kore dao hey tomar choronodhular tole.. in the shower, Mamma humming Aaro aaro probhu aaro aaro.. in the kitchen as she moved her ladle in a soft Rabendrik dance motion, and the morning radio that religiously had a slot for threeRabindrasangeet each morning as I struggled with my Bonny Mix and shoe laces and rushed to school. 

I did not understand the depth or meaning of these songs as a child, but like nursery rhymes, Abol Tabol and Thakumar Jhuli, they were a part of my growing up. My bed time story was Birpurush, the car-stereo always boomed with Debabrata Biswas; Pochishe Boishakh was as important as my own birthday, and Gitabitan found a place on the bed-side table. Baba was an ardent Gurudeb follower and Mamma’s Viswabharati background built up an ambience that cultivated Tagore in everyday life.

I remember my first solo dance performance on stage. I was barely five then and Kothayo amar hariye jawar nei mana was nothing but a lyrical fairy tale to me. What my innocent mind didn’t understand was that there was a deeper philosophy hidden beneath those seemingly simple words. Only later in life, as I began to discoverTagore’s unrestricted spiritualism in his writings, through his philosophy, did I realize how this was all reflected in the way he composed music.

The words found new meaning; the aestheticism was not lost in translation as alphabets transcended the level of sensory perception and evolved as more profound, sensitive and spiritual realizations. And then an open, boundless, unrestricted, uncorrupt mind that saw no horizon, no boundaries, was revealed to me.

Since then there has been no moment in my modest life, neither in wakefulness nor in dreams that is not influenced or inspired by the poet of all poets. Tagore’s profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful verses have found life in my personal expressions in all human form; making it difficult to sift Puja, Prem from depiction of Prokriti in everyday life sometimes. Beyond the conservative understanding, they all seem to merge in a more metaphysical overlap.  

Have I not sat by the window on many afternoons watching a storm rise over the horizon, the low dark nimbus clouds caressing the tips of the rice fields, humming softly to myself...

Tumi Jodi dekha nahi dao koro amaye hyela? Kemon kore kaate amaar emon badol byela?

and revisited my inner self over and over again....?? Was it Puja, Prem or Prokriti?

Does it not lead me to think even deeper? Is there actually a line of demarcation? Isn’t everything around us including ourselves a part of that greater scheme in nature, a piece of that divine design called life? What is not divine then?

Jogoto juure udaar shure anando gaan baaje, shey gaan kobe gobhiro robe bajibe heeya maajhe

Batasho jolo akasho aalo, shobare kobe bashibo bhalo, hridoyo shobha juriya tara boshibe nana saaje

Tagore is not just a poet we read to enrich our literary acumen, he’s not just an artist who saw the world on a canvas different from others, he’s not just a composer who blended his poetry with music in a magical communion; Tagore, to me, is a philosophy, a harbinger of life that teaches us to live, to laugh, to love and above all, to win with pride and battle failures with courage, in life after life, in age after age, forever....

As the world joins hands to celebrate the greatest poet’s 150^th birth anniversary, I shall leave you with these thoughts from Gitanjali....

My song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me; their jingling would drown thy whispers.

My poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music.

Philosophically yours

Ananya

All the World's a Stage...

When the third bell rings and backstage murmurs fade, theatre lights are dimmed and the curtain is raised. In Stage Utopia, the life of an actor begins with conjuring a tale that persuades you to laugh and cry with him in the next few hours, and ends with bringing you on your feet in a rush of applause or sending you home with a lingering thought to ponder upon much after the applauds have faded into silence.

However, in today’s i-centric social context, (and I don’t just mean iPods, iPhones and iPads), the power, impact or success of theatre as a tool of any socio-political revolution is debatable.

“Although the primary purpose of theatre is to engage an audience with their imagination through a shared time and space, once that has been achieved it is possible to draw their attention to pressing
socio-political issues. At that time of performance it is possible to evoke strong feelings among the audience. But once they leave the theatre, how much of what they experienced they will carry forward into their lives is hugely speculative,” Mahesh Dattani, Indian director, actor and playwright, observes.

Mahesh, who has many successful and popular plays like Final Solutions, Dance Like a Man, Bravely Fought the Queen, On a Muggy Night in Mumbai, Tara, and 30 Days in September to his credit also feels that Indian theatre is at a crossroad at the moment.  “We are at crossroads with our form-heavily borrowed from western models and yet, self-consciously aware of our roots.”

However, the first playwright in English in the country to be recognised with the Sahitya Akademi Award, quickly adds that he is optimistic about the future of theatre in India and sees a great deal of talent amongst young theatre practitioners. 

“I am confident they will create a theatre that is alive and relevant to our times. I find more and more youngsters are aware that theatre gives them training and discipline. They can also do cinema or television which is definitely more paying. Yes, there are thousands and thousands who would love to do cinema or television under the misguided assumption that is more rewarding in outreach and money, but these are the ones who rarely make it. Not on their own steam, at least” Mahesh says.

So where does its future lie in the hands of those who are truly passionate about it? “Theatre eventually would go in smaller spaces as cities get more and more unwieldy, offering an intimacy between the performer and the spectator, and that is where its power will lie,” he predicts.

Mahesh ends our conversation by sharing an interesting anecdote, one of the many rewarding experiences he has had in many years as a playwright: “I remember once after my play Final Solutions on the Hindu-Muslim divide, a young man came up to me and said he was Bobby but his name was Babban. After watching the play he found pride in who he was and was thinking of changing it back to Babban. A character in my play has the same name and issue.”

Mahesh’s personal experience only corroborates my belief that theatre, no matter how “unprofitable” in terms of numbers on a cheque might be, is that powerful instrument of performing arts that can change perceptions, alter lives or provoke you to think what may have escaped your rationale otherwise. Theatre is not about deception. It’s simply about presenting a tale that relates to you and me, the portrayal of a truth that often might go unnoticed in the ordinary business of life.