Dancing Without A Leg

The 8-day International Odissi Dance Festival was organized at Bhubneswar from the 23^rd to the 30^th December, 2011. At present, Odissi dance is being performed in 156 countries and this dance-form continues to spread to more countries. About 1000 Odissi dancers from all over India as also from U S A, U K, France, Canada, Russia, Japan, Italy, Australia, Malaysia, Sweden, China, Taiwan, Israel, Bangladesh, Peru and Trinidad performed in the Festival. The largest foreign contingent of about 150 dancers was from Italy. The morning sessions were from 10 AM to 1 PM.; the afternoon sessions were from 4 PM to 6 PM and the evening ones were from 6.30 PM to 10 PM. In between the dance programmes, seminars on different theoretical aspects and nuances of Odissi dance were organized daily from 2 PM to 4 PM. The performers included the 77-year old veteran Dr. Minati Mishra, who has a Ph. D in Odissi dance and who has been conferred with an honourary D. Litt. Degree by Utkal University of Culture.and Guru Nityananda Das, whose dancing career has not been affected by the fact that he has lost a leg in an accident and who now dances with one leg!!!
 

There was a mix of veterans, experts and young and upcoming artists.

On the first day, the 23^rd December, 1110 feet, painted red with alta and with 1110 ghoongurs tied to them, danced in tandem to Odissi music. A record number of 555 dancers from different countries performed together for 28 minutes and 55 seconds from 2.30 PM, at Kalinga Stadium. When it ended, the audience, who had filled the galleries to capacity, gave the artistes a standing ovation and a thunderous applause.

The event has been recorded by the authorities of Guinenss Book of World Records.

I had the good fortune of attending the evening programmes for 5 days. To say the least, it was a heavenly experience. While watching the performances, I felt like having been transported to a completely different world, far away from the mundane world and the daily grind of ordinary living. It felt as if time had stood still when the programmes were going on.

Guru Nityanada Das and Guru Bijay Das danced a number titled ‘Priya Sakha’ which is based on the life of the former. The accompanying song narrates how a devoted dancer loses a leg in an accident and feels crest-fallen by the thought that he can no longer engage in his passion. He appeals to Lord Krishna (Almost all the Odissi songs and dances have the Radha-Krishna love lore as the theme.) to restore his lost leg so that he would be able to resume dancing His lore. Then the dancer falls asleep and Lord Krishna appears before him in dream. The Lord tells the dancer that he need not worry about the lost leg and blesses him that he would be able to continue dancing even with one leg. The dancer wakes up and pleasantly finds that he can indeed dance with one leg! And then he dances away to glory.

The performance was simply superb. When this dance-number ended, the entire audience gave him a standing ovation and the huge hall reverberated with roaring applause. After this, Guru Nityanda Das was again called to the stage. His Guru Bimbadhar Das also was invited to the stage. Nityanda Das was requested to tell how he was inspired by his Guru not to give up after losing a leg. He started speaking about his Guru and after a couple of sentences, he was so overwhelmed with emotion that words failed him. He could speak no longer. Tears rolled down his cheeks. The duo was united in a tight embrace, to another thunderous applause from the audience.

The well-known danseuse Sudha Chandran had lost one leg in an accident. Since dance was her very life, she persisted and is able dance with an artificial leg. The Hindi film Nache Mayuri is based on her life and feat.

Nityanada Das has gone still further. He dances with one leg, without any artificial leg. I had watched on TV a programme wherein both these great exponents had performed, Sudha, with one natural leg and an artificial leg but Nityananda with his single leg. At the end of the programme, Sudha, in reply to a question by the compere, acknowledged that Guru Nityananda’s feat was much higher than her own as he does not use any artificial leg.

The title of the film Nache Mayuri is a romanticisation of Sudha Chandran’s grit and determination but the fact remains that Mayuris (pea-hens) do not dance. It is the male peacock with its long and brilliant-coloured plumage, who dances to attract the attention of its mate. The pea-hen has no plumage. And the original cosmic dancer is Nataraj Shiva, a male. Of course the celestial dancers are Urvashi, Rambha and Menaka, all females.

But I have digressed. 

The International Odissi Dance Festival was a great event.

ADDENDUMLater, I watched on T V, a presentation of Odissi dance titled 'Guru Dakshina' (Guru's fee) by Nityananda Das and others based on his life. In this a look-alike dancer plays the part of Nityanda Das before he lost his leg. Nityananda Das himself presents the second part. The accompanying song vividly narrates how Das was a promising danseur when he met with the accident, how he was crest-fallen and lost hope of ever being able to dance again and how by his Guru's motivation and his determination persistence he regained his dancing ability . It is a really touching dance-presentation.

What Is New, Yaar?

I wish all of you A VERY VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR. :)))))))))))))))

I am reminded of a cartoon by the Late Mario Miranda titled 'What is new, Yaar' published in The Economic Times years ago. Mario died a few days ago and The ET published a few articles on the the renowned cartoonist. The paper also reprinted this cartoon first published on a new year's day. The characters in this series were the business tycoon Boss, his buxom secretary Miss Foensca, his politician friend the bulky Mr. Bundaldass, the film actress Miss Nimbupani and a beggar with a street dog. The beggar used to sit on the street near Boss's office. Boss used to have occasional conversations with the beggar. In this particular cartoon, the beggar is sleeping on a newspaper of new year's day and Boss asks the beggar "What is new, yaar?"

The Flower Show

Here are the photos of some of the flowers/foliage in my garden. The last but one is that of pumpkin-flower with a honey bee hovering over it and the last photo is that of a baby pumpkin.

The First Grey Hair

In my school days, I had come across an Odia poem, two lines of which, translated freely, read like this:

He need not be knowledgeable,

Who has a head of grey;

One who pursues knowledge even in youth,

People call him wise.

So, when one day, about fifteen years ago, the wife, to her great delight, discovered the first grey hair on my head, she did not consider me to have grown wise but only grown old. She was delighted, nay, overjoyed at this great discovery because the first streak of grey on her head had appeared long before that and over the years, half of the hair on her head had shed its shiny black colour and had turned grey.(She was a junior in my college and it was her long flowing dense and silky black tresses which had first attracted me towards her.) My ideal of womanhood is Sita not because of any thing else but because she is reputed to have had long cascading silky and lustrous jet black hair which swept the floor when loosened. It is said that the legendary Shakuntala(meaning a lady with good hair) was named as such because she had long, luxurious and lustrous hair flowing down to her ankles. Even now, my eyes instinctively move towards a lady whose back is adorned with long black shiny hair, plaited or allowed to hang loosely.

Now, back to my first grey hair. On her great discovery, the lady of the house(L O H) danced and sang with uninhibited glee and called out to the daughter. The latter, who as usual was listening to an unbearably loud music with an open book in front of her, rushed out and was very much surprised to see her mother’s face beaming with uncontrolled joy, a face which used to almost always wear a frown as an inseparable ornament, as if the frown was born with her face and body, in the manner as Karna in the Mahabharat was born with the kabacha and kundala (the life-saving vest and ear-rings respectively). The kabacha was perhaps the earliest version of modern-day bullet-proof vest.

The L O H, with sparkling eyes, poured the 'GREAT BREAKING NEWS' to the daughter, with great enthusiasm. But to her utter disappointment, the daughter did not share her joy, nor did she show any sign of the ecstasy which the lady had reached. Indeed, the daughter was crest-fallen. :((((( A great sense of loss was writ large on her face. Our daughter loved my visits to her school. Whenever I went to her school, she, with an air of superiority, used to point out to her friends, my crown with a shiny crop of black hair, as a contrast to the grey and graying heads of their fathers. She used to tell me after each of my visits, how her friends turned green with envy because the hair on the heads of their fathers had turned grey years before that. And because of this, she wanted me to visit her school as often as possible, with or without any purpose. Now her disappointment was total. She looked at me and her sad eyes told me that I had let her down. The two pairs of eyes, those belonging to the mother and to the daughter respectively, were a study in contrast!!!

Presently, the two ladies went into a conference. I was a half-hearted listener. There was an animated discussion between the two, as to what was needed to correct the disaster. The older member of the self-appointed High Power Committee suggested sympathetically that I should use henna to dye my hair as she was doing. I immediately shook my head as I hated (and still do) that foul-smelling potion and I did not want to wear a saffron cap. The younger member did not suggest. She ordered that I must use some good hair-dye. Otherwise, she said, she would not be able to show her face to her friends. When I quietly but firmly shook my head once again, she barked her alternative order in a rather loud voice, the loudness surpassing even that of her favourite music – “NEVER COME TO MY SCHOOL AGAIN.”

EPILOGUE

Even after reaching the venerable status of a senior citizen, I have a fairly black stock of hair on my head, with a few strands of grey on my temples on either side, highlighting the dark shed on the top.

Indira Gandhi with her unique and famous streak of grey

TAIL PIECE

Men with silver in their hair look distinguished; women with silvery hair look extinguished!!!

(This rule cannot be applied to Indiraji. She had a glow in her face during her aging years.)

Addendum

During the of Emergency years 1975-77, when she had established her authoritarian rule, Indira Gandhi had been described by a foreign journalist as "the only 'man' in a cabinet of old women".

TAIL PIECE 2:

You know you are getting bald when it takes longer and longer to wash your face!

Addendum II - Doosri Sita or The Modern Day Rapunzel

The Times of India of 09.12.2011 carries a photograph showing the 8.3 feet long hair of Ni Limmei of China. She stands on a chair while her neighbours comb her hair.

The Odia newspaper The Sambad of the 13th Dec. carries another photo of Ni Limmei standing on her balcony and combing her 2.53 meter long, and still growing, hair cascading down to the lower floor of the building. The paper adds that her compatriot Zai Kiuping holds the world record of having 5.627 meter long hair recognised by Guinness Book of World Records in 2004.

The Responsible Mother

I am surprised by the total transformation of Daughter II. From a fun-loving, carefree, tempestuous, whimsical, happy-go-lucky and globetrotting girl (once, she even went off to Pakistan for a book-promotion programme), she has suddenly donned a completely different robe, that of a very responsible, very patient, very caring mother who has created a new world, a very small world, a world centered around a gurgling and whimpering tiny creature keen on intermittently kicking the world with all her four limbs and with all the strength she can muster.

As a teenager, wherever my daughter would go, it would seem like a tornado had just ravished the area. Patience, calmness and responsibility were words I would have never associated with her. And look at her now! The catalyst for the change has been that my rebellious and self-willed girl now has a girl of her own, whom she says she has 'made'. The tiny 'bundle of joy' has bound my daughter's hand and feet!

I feel as if I am looking at a complete stranger. I am surprised by the numerous and unending stream of terms of endearment showered by her on her baby. She knows that the baby laughs when paper is torn in front of her or when her mother claps. She now knows that when the baby cries in a particular way, it is time to feed her and when the baby whimpers in another way, it indicates that she needs a nap. I asked her,"From where did you learn all these?" Smilingly, she replied, "From her." And her 'teacher' peeps out with bewitchingly blinking eyes from a bundle of well-set clothes.

Sometimes, when I go near the baby, my daughter seals her lips with her finger and shoos me away with a "Shhhh, she is sleeping." She keeps on reminding me that her baby has a very light sleep and that she wakes up even by the sound of rustling leaves.

Once hesitatingly, I asked her, "Don't you feel anything while changing the dirty diapers?" The reply, with a smile again, is, "It is a pleasure." !!! So are cleaning up when the baby throws up and also having to wake up at night for the baby's needs.

In myriad ways, she tries to make the baby comfortable and happy.

In myriad ways, she tries to find out what the baby needs at which time.

A line I saw in an advertisement for baby food runs, 'It feels like someone has taken out a part of you and yet has made you complete.' How true!

It happens to every new mother; yet it seems to be a new thing every time.

A question comes to my mind - why has God made human babies so helpless and entirely dependent, unlike the young ones of other living beings? A calf starts walking and frolicking within an hour of birth. It takes so long for a human baby even to turn, let alone sit up or take the first tentative steps!

The initial total dependence of the human baby is perhaps deliberately programmed for human bonding and formation of human society.

Tail Piece

I am reminded of a few lines from a poem by Byron:

And what am I?

A child crying in the night,

A child crying for light,

With no language but a cry.

Fungi Nail Nailed by Lemon!

This happened when I was to leave India for Singapore to visit Daughter II. The wife is already with her and we are to return after a fortnight.

About a week before my departure for Singapore, I experienced a slight pain at the corner of the thumb on my right hand. I didn't take it seriously and thought that I had probably wrenched the small piece of thread-like skin near the corner of the thumb and that the pain would go away after a couple of days. However, even after 3 days the pain persisted and had actually increased. I discovered that there was a little swelling on the spot and the the area had become very sensitive. I referred to a book on home remedies and found a suggested cure to the problem. The book recommended slicing off the top of a lemon and inserting the affected finger into it. I wanted to try it out but I did not want to be seen with a lemon attached to my thumb in the aircraft and be a sight. Moreover, I was not sure how long the healing would take. Time was running out, as I was to board my flight in a few days. So I telephoned a doctor-friend and sought his advice.

He prescribed a medicine to be taken for 4 days, one tablet twice daily. He added that this medicine would cause a side effect. It would cause diarrhoea! To overcome that, he prescribed another tablet to be taken along with the first one. The problem persisted even after 4 days so on his advice, I took another set of tablets, one to address the main problem and another as an antidote to the side effect of gastric disorder. After a week, the problem had appeared to wane and I was happy. But the side effect was still troubling me. By this time, I was already in the flight to Singapore.

Two days after landing in the island of my daughter's residence, the problem disappeared completely. I heaved a sigh of relief at the thought of avoiding being in pain in a foreign country and putting my daughter and son-in-law into the consequent inconvenience.

However, my sense of relief was short-lived. :(((((

The day after the right thumb became right, the left thumb left me in trouble! I experienced a similar pain at the corner of the left thumb. :(((

All of us, including my 5-month old granddaughter, became worried. Then I told my daughter about what I had read in the book on home remedies. The daughter took charge. She searched on the Internet and found that the remedy was indeed supposed to be effective. She found out that the cause was fungus, the result of my gardening and handling soil with my bare hands.

She promptly took out a lemon from her refrigerator, sliced the top off and asked me to insert my affected thumb into it. She advised me to keep the thumb in it for 8 hours a day for 3 days. I complied.

Thumb up!

I kept it like that for as long as possible, except while taking a bath and sleeping.

Lo and behold! The irritating problem had disappeared into thin air precisely at the end of the 3rd day! :)))))))))

The problem on the right thumb was remedied with a cost of over Rs 400 and in 8 days with the attendant non-monetary cost of loose motion and gastric woes. The irritant on the left thumb was fixed in 3 days sharp and with S$ 0.50 (about Rs. 19). This would of course be much cheaper in India, where a lemon costs Rs. 1.50 or Rs. 2. Of course, the average size of lemons in Singapore is more than twice that of lemons of India.

The daughter has since purchased a large pack of gloves and has ordered me not to even look at my garden without wearing gloves.

Happy home remedies. :)))))))

The Monkey Bite

It happened in August 2008. At that time, I was working at Visakhapatnam. I was deputed to Vijaywada for two weeks. Had I been there for this whole period, I would have escaped the accident. Because of an urgent piece of work at Visakhapatnam, I was called back. So I was made to be present there on that fateful day.

A monkey was roaming in our area for quite some time. It appeared to be harmless. It was more or less friendly to humans. It stole food from our kitchen on a couple of occasions and I shooed it away. Then one day, I was returning from my morning walk with two plastic carry bags -- one containing milk packets and the other, flowers for the wife's puja. (Don't get me wrong. I didn't say wife-puja, although I did almost worship her during those heady initial days of our newly wedded life.) As I was climbing the stairs to our first-floor apartment, I saw the monkey coming down the same staircase. I was face-to-face with her. (I learnt later that it was a female.) Our eyes met. I saw indignation, anger and aggression in her eyes. Terrified, I threw the milk and flowers and and beat a hasty retreat, climbing down the stairs backwards. Then I fled from the scene.

However, I realised that my image was fixed in her eyes. She was not harming anyone else but whenever she spotted me, she used to run towards me and snarl in an aggressive way. I was afraid of coming out of our house. During my morning walks, I started carrying a long stick, causing people to throw queer looks at me. To known persons, I would explain why I was carrying the stick. Normally it would be dark by the time I returned from the bank and I was scared and feared her attack. So I kept a stick in the car too.

I sent a written complaint to the Municipality. To be fair to the authorities, they sent a squad twice to catch her but failed. The monkey refused to take the bait and enter the vehicle. Then the Municipality wrote to the local zoo to catch her. In that letter, the Municipality had mentioned that they had to catch her with care as she was pregnant!!! They had sent a copy of this letter to me in reply to my complaint. When I telephoned to the zoo, they said that it was not in their jurisdiction. They said it was the duty of the Municipality and if the Municipality brought the monkey to the zoo, they would accept it.

I was at a loss about what to do. A couple of days later, when I was returning from my morning walk, one of the young men staying in the ground floor of the building, suggested to me to try to befriend the monkey. "Otherwise, how long can you avoid it?", he asked. I threw a piece of roti at her. She did not take it. Then the young man suggested that I should come down and offer the roti to her. I did that and she accepted it. I was coming back but the young man suggested me to stay there for a while so that the monkey would become familiar with me and accept me as a harmless friend. I did that and she did not react. Then the youngman suggested that I should wander around a little to create confidence in her. I did that. AND THEN IT HAPPENED. Suddenly, she charged towards me and attacked me. With my back pressed against my parked car, I could not run away. I was wearing shorts and she started scratching and biting my exposed legs. The young men who had gathered around, were too horrified to do anything. Then another person passing by came to my rescue and drove the monkey away by simply shooing her!!!!!!!!!!!

The young man who had suggested me to befriend the monkey, took me to a nearby hospital on his motorcycle. I had to take anti-rabies shots and it took about 15 days for the wounds to heal.

I continued carrying the stick.

A fortnight thereafter, the monkey simply vanished mysteriously!!!

Was it pre-destined and pre-ordained?

First, I was called back when the monkey was roaming in our area. Then it was I who came face to face with her on the staircase. She was friendly to all except me. Then again, I was advised to offer food to her. And when she had accepted the food from me and I wanted to come back, I was advised twice (of course with all good intentions) to linger there for some more time. Were my bank authorities and my friendly young neighbour the agents of fate?

I pride myself in saying that I do not believe in fate or destiny. What was it? Were all those causes mere coincidences or was the script pre-written somewhere?

I am in self-doubt. ???!!!