About a couple of weeks ago, as part of the webinar series being conducted by the University of SiliconAndhra, Dr. Yashoda Thakore and Devi Girish gave an incisive presentation about padams and javalis. During a wide-ranging Q&A session, someone asked why dancers find devotional pieces easier to perform than sringara pieces. I’m heavily paraphrasing Yashoda m’am’s response, but essentially, she pointed out that dancers portray vile characters like Keechaka, Dushasana, and Ravana in episodes and dramas, but balk at portraying nayikas in sringara pieces.

It came up in the discussion that reluctance comes from fear that the dancer may become “tainted” by the perceived morality of the nayika, but just as we can act out the cruelty of the villains without carrying that evil within us beyond the piece, we should be able to

I, myself have been working through my unease when discussing sringara pieces like padams and javalis, as well as, frankly, dancing them. And, this is my problem to solve. It’s not a morality thing for me, but as someone who is generally very restrained in life and in dance, it’s been quite an uphill challenge to openly express the sensuality of the javali I’m currently working on and the padam I needed to present for my choreography course.

However, the Q&A session had me realizing why I find this difficult, but not the violence in items like Dasavathara Sabdam, Ramayana Sabdam, and so many other piece. We live in societies that normalize, even valorize violence.

I’ve become much more attuned to the violence that surrounds us as I’ve begun to re-experience things as they are reflected by my son’s reactions. He has responded with fear and horror to so many shows and movies that are standard fare for children’s entertainment because of arguments, fight scenes, and other displays (and glorification) of casual violence.

I’ve uncomfortably fumbled through reading him my beloved copies of Amar Chitra Katha comics featuring stories about Krishna, Ganesha, and Devi. I’ve censored the dialogues and struggled to answer his questions of why the violence portrayed in the pictures. I just don’t know what to say - these were the stories of my childhood too, and I remember being inspired by our mythology, not scared.

The news, of course, is too violent today. I’ve thought many a time in the past few months how different our lives would’ve been if we had chosen the beautiful home we’d fallen in love with on (the cheaper Henrico part of) Monument Avenue four years ago instead of our own rural retreat. What would I have told our son about those marching for his rights, as well as those rejecting them? Would sounds and sights the chants, police response, and ensuing chaos have penetrated our home if we had lived there?

I’m sure, with time, my son will become accustomed to a certain level of “action and adventure” in his choice of entertainment, and find his own superheroes. That breaks my heart a little, but it’s probably what’s best for him to navigate this world. I hope in that time, I can conquer my own inhibitions about embracing and portraying love, and show him that there is strength in vulnerability and in embracing the entire spectrum of human experience and emotion.

So, this is the third time I’m writing this piece. The second draft was my favorite but alas, it has disappeared (as has the first one), and I really want to get this post up. Hopefully this version will save instead of disappearing into the ether.

Follow up - 8/1/2020

After posting this piece, I had a very thoughtful response from Dr. Anupama Kylash, my guide at the University of SiliconAndhra, that I think should be included here. It certainly resets the context from this very particular moment and lens through which I’m experiencing things to the larger backdrop of our rich mythological tradition (and, frankly, reminded me of why I never had qualms with our stories in the past). With her permission, I’m including it here (breaking up paragraphs for legibility).

So Ameya,  I read this. As usual, you write very well. I have a slightly different perspective on this though. Sexuality and violence are both part of any civilizational history. Denying either will be not only incorrect, but foolish as well. The reason we are comfortable with a character from Itihasas like a Keechaka or a Hiranyakashipu or a portrayal of a Goddess like Durga or Kali, is not because we are normalising or glorifying violence, but because, these characters can be portrayed without touching your personal inner core. There is a blueprint in a culture's collective memory, about these characters, you just need to follow that blueprint. When you enact a Padam or a piece infused with explicit Shringara, you are uncomfortable because, now, you will be touching an inner core, a chord which does not have a formula, but which you have to resonate by squeezing your emotions into it! It is that vulnerability that we fear.

This is why, Kama, as a Purushārtha was normalised in ancient society. It was as much required to be practiced as Dharma or Artha to keep a balance. When Krishna urges Arjuna to pick up his bow and fight, is he inciting him towards violence or Himsa, or towards duty and Dharma. Projection of a violent act in our Epics, is not a meaningless, senseless, passionate outpouring of depravity, it is focused towards a higher goal.

The image of the crucified Christ on the cross is a disturbing image but millions find peace staring at that image in a Church because there is a 'paramārtha', higher meaning, embedded in sacrifice, to that image. Now let's look at the normalised nursery rhymes we teach our children, "Jack and Jill.....broke his crown, Jill came tumbling after!" "Rockabye baby on the tree top....cradle will fall, down come baby, cradle and all!"

So what's the meaning behind these terrible images? Because these were conceived by nannies to scare little children to sleep! So basically what I'm trying to say is, that, I would not be apologetic or perturbed by an Amar Chitra Katha or a story in Chandamama, if I can teach it in the context that it must be understood. A child must know a story of a certain culture, but more importantly, the child must know the import of the story and what it is trying to establish. If we can bare our souls with conviction, neither will sexuality make us uncomfortable nor will a fight for establishment of piety, appear as violence. 

My reply:

I think you're right, and just reading your response reset the context. I think, frankly, the world felt safer to explore heroic stories in mythology when I was younger, because we were inspired by the heroes but looked out into what felt like a limitless world of safety and opportunity. Right now, whether or not I directly address it here, I'm experiencing everything through what's going on in the US (which is, frankly fighting battles that we thought had already been won) and figuring out what that will mean for the next year, the next generation. That's definitely putting a different shade on, honestly, everything. So it's less to do with the ithihasas and just, frankly, terror we're on the precipes of very bad times. Much less a criticism of our stories and just acknowledgment that I'm struggling on how to make sense of things at this moment. But you're right, what I should be reading at this time - for my own sanity - is what Krishna told Arjuna. Because at the end, it is not about hiding from the fight. It's about doing that is right in the face of everything and have certainty that the world will rebalance again.

Regarding sringara, you've hit the nail on the head - to be good, it's got to be authentic, and for the dance to be authentic, we cannot follow a blueprint. We need to match through the haziness of navigating and baring parts of our own soul. And that's just hard.

Her final response:

Ameya! This is very true! The World is in the midst of several civilizational battles on many levels. It's perfectly understandable what you're saying. All our ideas are coloured by what we are facing. Especially the situation in the US! All the more reason to keep the faith going, faith in good and right, over evil and injustice! 

[Referring to Sringara] It's the hardest! But, when achieved, also extremely enriching on many levels. Like touching your own inner self!