because of limited access to Internet in this small village where we are staying, further posts will come once we return home. We have many more photos, videos, music, and musings, to post.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
heading for Attakul Pongala festival
long time no posts...! We have been sticking to our required rest during our Ayurvedic treatments for the last several weeks, and so, no running around to cyber-cafes, etc.
Now we are preparing to head south to Thiruvananthapuram, the capital city of Kerala, for the annual women's sacred festival of "Attakul Pongala", to be celebrated on Feb. 19th. We will be joining my teacher Prof. Dianne Jenett, whose doctoral thesis was centered on Attakul Pongala; she will meet us there and with her and several others (including Pranita, from my Graduate cohort at ITP --Institute of Transpersonal Pyschology, California). Together we will participate in the ritual of cooking "pongal" or sweet rice pudding, in honor of the goddess. There is a nice blog about this ritual: http://attukalpongala.blogspot.com
We will be in the company of around 3 MILLION other women, as this has become one of the largest gathering of women together in one place on earth! in short (from the blog) :
Last year more than 30 lakh women participated in the Attukal Pongala festival. It has also entered the Guinness Book of World Records twice as the largest gathering of women in the world.
Now we are preparing to head south to Thiruvananthapuram, the capital city of Kerala, for the annual women's sacred festival of "Attakul Pongala", to be celebrated on Feb. 19th. We will be joining my teacher Prof. Dianne Jenett, whose doctoral thesis was centered on Attakul Pongala; she will meet us there and with her and several others (including Pranita, from my Graduate cohort at ITP --Institute of Transpersonal Pyschology, California). Together we will participate in the ritual of cooking "pongal" or sweet rice pudding, in honor of the goddess. There is a nice blog about this ritual: http://attukalpongala.blogspot.com
We will be in the company of around 3 MILLION other women, as this has become one of the largest gathering of women together in one place on earth! in short (from the blog) :
ATTUKAL PONGALA
Attukal Pongala is an annual congregation of women to offer Pongala - an offering of boiled rice in earthern pot - during the Malayalam month of Kumbham (February-March). Attukal Pongala has become a symbol of devotion and dedication to Devi, the Mother goddess and above all a celebration of womanhood. Pongala explores the inner chemistry of the body, mind and soul; recharging the devotee with a sublime happiness and make her spiritually and mentally equipped to face the challenges of the future.Last year more than 30 lakh women participated in the Attukal Pongala festival. It has also entered the Guinness Book of World Records twice as the largest gathering of women in the world.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Kathakali performance in Trissur, near Krishna Temple: the story of the woodcutter who dug a tunnel for the Pandavas to escape from
This actor/dancer (unfortunately did not get his name) performed a powerful and also hilarious version of the woodcutter who digs a tunnel and encounters numerous animals and stinging bugs along the way in the forest.
Oils, bitter herbs and other delights of Ayurvedic treatment
Guggulu Tiktakam Kashayam, Guggulu Tiktakam Ghritam, Dasamoola Hareetaki, Yogaraja Guggulu, Balarishtam....these are just a few of our prescribed Ayurvedic herbal preparations which we must consume 3-4 times per day, before meals, and beginning at 6 am in the morning. "Tik-tak-tam"....I like the sound of these Kerala Ayurvedic medicines! On the other hand, the taste ranges from extremely bitter to barely palatable.
But Assunta and I are savoring our daily treatments (we are now into day 4) at the Kerala Ayurveda Samajam Shoranur : http://www.samajam.org/ It may or may not be the world's first Ayurveda Center (not sure about that claim), but it is definitely rooted in a deep tradition, and has much to offer--tho it definitely does not cater to foreigners in any way; methods are very basic and traditional, without any effort to appeal to aesthetics. This is a hospital, and treatments are matter-of-fact.
That said, I look forward to my daily slathering, melting, molding, drenching oil bath and massage, with two young women on either side of me, in rhythmic unison, sliding their palms up and down my legs, arms and torso, massaging at times more deeply, at other times gently. In-between the actual massaging, the just-perfectly heated dark brown oil is poured repeatedly over every part of my body (head excepted, in this case), enveloping me like a baby in a womb-like liquid universe.
I am lying on a heavy ancient-looking wooden bench-cum-boat-like 'table'. The oil drips down off my body and is caught by the raised sides of the table, where it is gathered and regathered by another woman at the foot of the table, to be re-heated, and reapplied, repeatedly, for one hour. This is abhyanga. I will have seven days of this, followed by further treatments, to be determined.
Assunta is having similar but different treatments, some of which involve the application of a special paste to the body, and oil massage of the head. Our treatments were determined by the head doctor of Samajam, who met with us for a preliminary consultation, talked with us individually, quite at length, and took our pulse.
During the treatments we are meant to rest alot and not run around. Our food should be without oil or spices, quite simple. Luckily our cook Lakshmi is familiar with these treatments, and is a master at making us wonderful and simple Kerala food (like steamed plantains for breakfast, aviyal --a yogurt-based vegetable dish with rice- for lunch, and steamed rice cakes, or idli, for supper.)
The heavy oil massages make one feel very relaxed and sleepy, so its pretty easy to just decide not to do too much. (my one indulgence is staying in town after massage to post on the blog--the other indulgence was taking a bus to Trissur the other night to see a fantastic Kathakali performance! ** see photos in another post)
We are grateful to be here, and to be experiencing these treatments....
more follows....
But Assunta and I are savoring our daily treatments (we are now into day 4) at the Kerala Ayurveda Samajam Shoranur : http://www.samajam.org/ It may or may not be the world's first Ayurveda Center (not sure about that claim), but it is definitely rooted in a deep tradition, and has much to offer--tho it definitely does not cater to foreigners in any way; methods are very basic and traditional, without any effort to appeal to aesthetics. This is a hospital, and treatments are matter-of-fact.
That said, I look forward to my daily slathering, melting, molding, drenching oil bath and massage, with two young women on either side of me, in rhythmic unison, sliding their palms up and down my legs, arms and torso, massaging at times more deeply, at other times gently. In-between the actual massaging, the just-perfectly heated dark brown oil is poured repeatedly over every part of my body (head excepted, in this case), enveloping me like a baby in a womb-like liquid universe.
I am lying on a heavy ancient-looking wooden bench-cum-boat-like 'table'. The oil drips down off my body and is caught by the raised sides of the table, where it is gathered and regathered by another woman at the foot of the table, to be re-heated, and reapplied, repeatedly, for one hour. This is abhyanga. I will have seven days of this, followed by further treatments, to be determined.
Assunta is having similar but different treatments, some of which involve the application of a special paste to the body, and oil massage of the head. Our treatments were determined by the head doctor of Samajam, who met with us for a preliminary consultation, talked with us individually, quite at length, and took our pulse.
During the treatments we are meant to rest alot and not run around. Our food should be without oil or spices, quite simple. Luckily our cook Lakshmi is familiar with these treatments, and is a master at making us wonderful and simple Kerala food (like steamed plantains for breakfast, aviyal --a yogurt-based vegetable dish with rice- for lunch, and steamed rice cakes, or idli, for supper.)
The heavy oil massages make one feel very relaxed and sleepy, so its pretty easy to just decide not to do too much. (my one indulgence is staying in town after massage to post on the blog--the other indulgence was taking a bus to Trissur the other night to see a fantastic Kathakali performance! ** see photos in another post)
We are grateful to be here, and to be experiencing these treatments....
more follows....
Kolam festival and competition, Chennai, near Kapileshwar temple, Mylapore. Early January 2011.
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kolam
This is an artform practiced by women on a daily basis in front of their homes (in a more simple form). It is considered auspicious to bless the house daily in this way,and continues to be practiced throughout South India and parts of North India.
speaking of lac bugs...
the most amazing thing happened last night; after having posted the note about lac bugs as an afterthought on the blog, I opened up my book "The Palace of Illusions"** to the next chapter. The title was "lac", and the opening paragraph is below:
"In my dream, I was a lac insect. Like my hundred sisters, I attached myself to a new twig and drank its sap. I had no eyes, so I focused my entire impassioned energy on drinking. I drank and grew and secreted resin red as mud until I was covered with it, until we were all covered. Within my shell I held still and grew, like my hundred sisters, and within me grew eggs. The moon waxed full: once, twice, three times. The resin pooled and spread across the branches, turning them red until the tree seemed to be a dancing flame. The waiting villagers nodded. Yes, soon. The eggs hatched, a hundred new insects attached themselves to other trees, the villagers broke off the branches and scraped the resin clean, and sent it to Varnavat where Duryodhan had ordered a palace to be built for his five cousins.
(And I? I died. No need to mourn me. My work was done.)"
** by Chitra Banarjee Divakaruni: a feminist interpretation of the Mahabharata, through the eyes of the heroine Princess Panchaali (Draupadi). This paragraph refers to the lac from which the Pandavas palace was built --and eventually was burned down.
"In my dream, I was a lac insect. Like my hundred sisters, I attached myself to a new twig and drank its sap. I had no eyes, so I focused my entire impassioned energy on drinking. I drank and grew and secreted resin red as mud until I was covered with it, until we were all covered. Within my shell I held still and grew, like my hundred sisters, and within me grew eggs. The moon waxed full: once, twice, three times. The resin pooled and spread across the branches, turning them red until the tree seemed to be a dancing flame. The waiting villagers nodded. Yes, soon. The eggs hatched, a hundred new insects attached themselves to other trees, the villagers broke off the branches and scraped the resin clean, and sent it to Varnavat where Duryodhan had ordered a palace to be built for his five cousins.
(And I? I died. No need to mourn me. My work was done.)"
** by Chitra Banarjee Divakaruni: a feminist interpretation of the Mahabharata, through the eyes of the heroine Princess Panchaali (Draupadi). This paragraph refers to the lac from which the Pandavas palace was built --and eventually was burned down.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
bugs, critters, and lots of OIL....
this will be short! Am in a cyber-cafe...have 15 minutes before the last bus returns to our village Nedampura. This is a small town and after 9 pm everything closes and no auto--rickshaws are to be found, or if they are, one has to BEG them to take you home. The bus is only Rs 5, compared to RS 60 for a rickshaw, so bus is the preferred method of transportation.
We are sharing our big beautiful old Kerala home (actually, the home of Brigitte Chataignier, French Mohini Attam dancer) with many friends...of the bug variety. We are really the intruders here, because the house has been empty for a good part of the year, and Brigitte kindly offered us use of the home. Our invaluable helper and cook, Lakshmi, without whom we could not function in this home, had cleaned up everything for us before we arrived, but that did not stop the resident animals from sticking around: there is a beautiful striped cockroach who likes the bathroom, that I have decided to befriend; he (she?) is more timid than I am -- scurrying away from me when I come in, so I decided instead of freaking out every time I see her, I will try to get to know her.
There's also several large spiders in the kitchen, the ever-present geckos on the walls of the house, little tiny, very cute miniature frogs, birds of all varities (outside...), and who knows what other creatures. We are in a forested area, so this is an animal-friendly environment, and we are really taking over their territory.
Look forward to posting more soon...getting to a cyber -cafe can be challenging! Have to go catch the last bus home. 'till later,
p.s. did you know that shellac comes from the "lac" bug in India, and that India is the world's largest producer of shellac?? more bug stories later!
We are sharing our big beautiful old Kerala home (actually, the home of Brigitte Chataignier, French Mohini Attam dancer) with many friends...of the bug variety. We are really the intruders here, because the house has been empty for a good part of the year, and Brigitte kindly offered us use of the home. Our invaluable helper and cook, Lakshmi, without whom we could not function in this home, had cleaned up everything for us before we arrived, but that did not stop the resident animals from sticking around: there is a beautiful striped cockroach who likes the bathroom, that I have decided to befriend; he (she?) is more timid than I am -- scurrying away from me when I come in, so I decided instead of freaking out every time I see her, I will try to get to know her.
There's also several large spiders in the kitchen, the ever-present geckos on the walls of the house, little tiny, very cute miniature frogs, birds of all varities (outside...), and who knows what other creatures. We are in a forested area, so this is an animal-friendly environment, and we are really taking over their territory.
Look forward to posting more soon...getting to a cyber -cafe can be challenging! Have to go catch the last bus home. 'till later,
p.s. did you know that shellac comes from the "lac" bug in India, and that India is the world's largest producer of shellac?? more bug stories later!
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
PanchaKarma Ayurvedic treatments in Kerala ....we begin tomorrow
Assunta and I are in village Nedumpura, near to the small town of Cheruturutty ----home to the famous dance/theater/music institution Kerala Kalamandalam: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kerala_Kalamandalam
This is next to Shoranur (average size town) which is in Trissur district (for those of you who REALLY want to know where we are!).
We start our treatment tomorrow morning with doctor appointments, after which we will be prescribed a 21-day course of massages, diet, and other treatments (including doing nothing else : i.e. rest, during this time period. ) That's probably the hardest thing for me...i really want to DANCE --learn some Mohini Attam, move, etc. However, I will follow whatever they say , and I do know that these treatments tend to make one sleepy and a little tired, so maybe once I start, it won't be so difficult to stick to the "doing nothing" prescription. We shall see...
We are staying in a beautiful old Kerala-style home, with large wooden doors and overhanging roof to keep the house cool. We have a large well in the back, attached to the kitchen, where we directly get all our water. In fact, there is a window in the kitchen which opens to the well, and a bucket that can be pulled up (however, water can also be obtained thru the pipes). The house has electricity, but no fridge, no hot water (tho if we really feel like it, we can heat some up on the stove for a hot bucket bath). Otherwise, its really quite warm here in the afternoons, and the water from the well feels refreshing. There's an outside little room for taking a cool shower or bucket bath.
We also have no Internet or television, but there is a landline phone. Our next door neighbor has lived here forever, and is very helpful if we need anything.
We came back late last night on the train from visiting Kunhiraman's village, also our dance teacher (and his niece) Yeshoda's home there. We had a lovely two relaxing days there, and also went with her when she took her mother's ashes to be dispersed in the sea. Her mother died 41 days before, and it was the proscribed time to take the ashes, after a ritual ceremony in the nearby temple by the ocean; all the family members had to bathe in the temple tank (fully immerse themselves) and then came out, and did the same in the ocean. We were happy that we could be with her at this time. Her mother was 86 years old, and died, fully conscious and aware of her family around her. She refused to go to hospital , or have surgery which was suggested. She lived a long and dignified life, and carried on with her daily rituals, almost to the end. She was not interested in traveling far from her village home.
Yeshoda told me an interesting story: her mother had a pet chicken. Every morning the chicken would come around the front of the house, (the chicken pen was in the back), and they would have some sort of interaction every day. When she died, the chicken disappeared, and has not been seen since...they have not found any feathers (if a wild animal got the chicken) or any other evidence of her. She is just gone --like that. A little mystery. A people-animal connection...
So, back to this morning. Because we were gone for the weekend, and we have no fridge, we had no milk for our (most necessary!) morning tea. I decided to walk to the nearest store, somewhere along the main road, to search for milk. I set out early, around 7:30 AM. First I walked to the end of the dirt road that we live on, and came to one little shop, but they didn't have any tea. All the other shops were closed: Sunday morning everything shuts down. So, I kept walking. And walking. And walking...I probably walked about 2 km (but not sure, really!), until finally I hit a more main road. It was a nice morning walk, and I did indeed finally find a little shop that had cold fresh milk for sale (RS 12, about 25 cents) for a little plastic sealed bag of milk. Proud of my conquest (also bought a loaf of bread), I meandered back down the road.
I went on, and on, and on......and ON...until I looked around and completely did not recognize where I was. (how could I go wrong , tho?? It was only one straight road, and one turn to the right...). Well, somehow I just missed the turn, and kept going. Anyone I asked along the way did not speak enough English to be of help to me. It occurred to me that I could call Assunta, since I had my phone on me. I called her, but her phone didn't pick up (I had forgotten that she had run out of minutes.). I was slightly flumoxed (word?) because I knew that I couldn't be that far off, on the other hand, I really didn't know where I was, and I couldn't tell anybody where I was going, because I had neither the street name, nor the phone number of the house we are staying in (actually, I did have the phone number, but in my mini-panic, I didn't remember that I had it in my phone). SO....I kept sort of walking in circles, absolutely sure that the Communist star and sickle symbol I was staring at on a wall nearby, was NOT the same one I'd seen earlier along the way.
Finally, I sort of stumbled over to a group of men standing by the side of the road, and one of them asked me "French??" (everyone knows Brigitte around here). I said, "No, American". I'm LOST." He looked at me kind of funny, then said "I speak good English!". (YAY!). But he couldn't get the "lost" part until I repeated it several times.
Then I gave him Assunta's number, but he also couldn't get thru on his phone.
"Where do you stay?"
"I don't know!"
(Scratching his head...). "What name street? "
"I don't know!"
"Phone number?"
" I don't know!"
Finally I kept saying "Brigitte, Briggite!"...and he got it. He said "O! No problem, no problem! I take you there."
He walked me down a dirt road --a shortcut back to her house. In that 5 minute walk I got an almost complete outline of his life, and he mine: he's 55, born in 1955, no 'issue' (children), works in Trissur, is Christian Protestant, his 'pet name' is Mohan , but his given name is Charles Simon. He wants to learn yoga but goes to work early in the morning and doesn't get back until 9 pm.
From me he learned my age, my marital status (always a vital piece of information here), I have one child, I am a dancer and yoga teacher, I am coming for Ayurvedic treatment (which he pointed out that few local people could afford), and I look young to have a 29 year old daughter--YAY! : ), and I am staying at Brigitte's house with my French girlfriend. Now of course, everyone in the village will know that we have arrived...
I enjoyed my momentary "lostness", and got nice feeling for the village and its inhabitants. Guess I just sort of overshot my mark when returning. Afterall, I hadn't had my morning cup of tea, it's no wonder!
This is next to Shoranur (average size town) which is in Trissur district (for those of you who REALLY want to know where we are!).
We start our treatment tomorrow morning with doctor appointments, after which we will be prescribed a 21-day course of massages, diet, and other treatments (including doing nothing else : i.e. rest, during this time period. ) That's probably the hardest thing for me...i really want to DANCE --learn some Mohini Attam, move, etc. However, I will follow whatever they say , and I do know that these treatments tend to make one sleepy and a little tired, so maybe once I start, it won't be so difficult to stick to the "doing nothing" prescription. We shall see...
We are staying in a beautiful old Kerala-style home, with large wooden doors and overhanging roof to keep the house cool. We have a large well in the back, attached to the kitchen, where we directly get all our water. In fact, there is a window in the kitchen which opens to the well, and a bucket that can be pulled up (however, water can also be obtained thru the pipes). The house has electricity, but no fridge, no hot water (tho if we really feel like it, we can heat some up on the stove for a hot bucket bath). Otherwise, its really quite warm here in the afternoons, and the water from the well feels refreshing. There's an outside little room for taking a cool shower or bucket bath.
We also have no Internet or television, but there is a landline phone. Our next door neighbor has lived here forever, and is very helpful if we need anything.
We came back late last night on the train from visiting Kunhiraman's village, also our dance teacher (and his niece) Yeshoda's home there. We had a lovely two relaxing days there, and also went with her when she took her mother's ashes to be dispersed in the sea. Her mother died 41 days before, and it was the proscribed time to take the ashes, after a ritual ceremony in the nearby temple by the ocean; all the family members had to bathe in the temple tank (fully immerse themselves) and then came out, and did the same in the ocean. We were happy that we could be with her at this time. Her mother was 86 years old, and died, fully conscious and aware of her family around her. She refused to go to hospital , or have surgery which was suggested. She lived a long and dignified life, and carried on with her daily rituals, almost to the end. She was not interested in traveling far from her village home.
Yeshoda told me an interesting story: her mother had a pet chicken. Every morning the chicken would come around the front of the house, (the chicken pen was in the back), and they would have some sort of interaction every day. When she died, the chicken disappeared, and has not been seen since...they have not found any feathers (if a wild animal got the chicken) or any other evidence of her. She is just gone --like that. A little mystery. A people-animal connection...
So, back to this morning. Because we were gone for the weekend, and we have no fridge, we had no milk for our (most necessary!) morning tea. I decided to walk to the nearest store, somewhere along the main road, to search for milk. I set out early, around 7:30 AM. First I walked to the end of the dirt road that we live on, and came to one little shop, but they didn't have any tea. All the other shops were closed: Sunday morning everything shuts down. So, I kept walking. And walking. And walking...I probably walked about 2 km (but not sure, really!), until finally I hit a more main road. It was a nice morning walk, and I did indeed finally find a little shop that had cold fresh milk for sale (RS 12, about 25 cents) for a little plastic sealed bag of milk. Proud of my conquest (also bought a loaf of bread), I meandered back down the road.
I went on, and on, and on......and ON...until I looked around and completely did not recognize where I was. (how could I go wrong , tho?? It was only one straight road, and one turn to the right...). Well, somehow I just missed the turn, and kept going. Anyone I asked along the way did not speak enough English to be of help to me. It occurred to me that I could call Assunta, since I had my phone on me. I called her, but her phone didn't pick up (I had forgotten that she had run out of minutes.). I was slightly flumoxed (word?) because I knew that I couldn't be that far off, on the other hand, I really didn't know where I was, and I couldn't tell anybody where I was going, because I had neither the street name, nor the phone number of the house we are staying in (actually, I did have the phone number, but in my mini-panic, I didn't remember that I had it in my phone). SO....I kept sort of walking in circles, absolutely sure that the Communist star and sickle symbol I was staring at on a wall nearby, was NOT the same one I'd seen earlier along the way.
Finally, I sort of stumbled over to a group of men standing by the side of the road, and one of them asked me "French??" (everyone knows Brigitte around here). I said, "No, American". I'm LOST." He looked at me kind of funny, then said "I speak good English!". (YAY!). But he couldn't get the "lost" part until I repeated it several times.
Then I gave him Assunta's number, but he also couldn't get thru on his phone.
"Where do you stay?"
"I don't know!"
(Scratching his head...). "What name street? "
"I don't know!"
"Phone number?"
" I don't know!"
Finally I kept saying "Brigitte, Briggite!"...and he got it. He said "O! No problem, no problem! I take you there."
He walked me down a dirt road --a shortcut back to her house. In that 5 minute walk I got an almost complete outline of his life, and he mine: he's 55, born in 1955, no 'issue' (children), works in Trissur, is Christian Protestant, his 'pet name' is Mohan , but his given name is Charles Simon. He wants to learn yoga but goes to work early in the morning and doesn't get back until 9 pm.
From me he learned my age, my marital status (always a vital piece of information here), I have one child, I am a dancer and yoga teacher, I am coming for Ayurvedic treatment (which he pointed out that few local people could afford), and I look young to have a 29 year old daughter--YAY! : ), and I am staying at Brigitte's house with my French girlfriend. Now of course, everyone in the village will know that we have arrived...
I enjoyed my momentary "lostness", and got nice feeling for the village and its inhabitants. Guess I just sort of overshot my mark when returning. Afterall, I hadn't had my morning cup of tea, it's no wonder!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Every full moon the mountain is circled by thousands...
Full moon procession earlier today in Tiruvannamalai... there are about 10 times as many people walking the 14km outer path around the mountain now that the sun has gone down. They started last night and go through the night till 6am tomorrow! This is what you are missing, Barbara and Assunta!
Glad you made it safely to Kerala!
Glad you made it safely to Kerala!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
"The Hindu" newspaper, January 3, 2011. Chennai, India
Encomiums for Kathakali exponent
Vasudha Venugopal
CHENNAI: A wave of nostalgia and gratitude pervaded the space that hosted the meeting of over 50 eminent artists and alumni of Kalakshetra here on Sunday. They had gathered to celebrate the 80 {+t} {+h} birthday of veteran Kathakali exponent K.P. Kunhiraman, who not only mastered the intricate nuances of the art form but also transmitted its glory and charm to cultures across the seas.
Long-time associates of the artist spoke about his various performances.
“He would practise so hard, and go right down to the beat of taka -takita, taka-takita, to get it right,” said dancer A. Janardhan. The splendour of Kathakali illustrated in a language of spectacle, mimetic gesture and movement embellished him, while he, donning the roles of various gods, heroes and beasts, filled the stage with his charisma, they recalled, in the presence of Mr. Kunhiraman and his wife Katherine. The couple has been running ‘Kalanjali – Dances of India' in the U.S. for the past three decades.
“When he played Hanuman, he became the monkey god himself, practically bringing forth the theoretical lessons on bhava and abhinaya," said Assunta Sebastein from the U.S., a disciple of the veteran dancer. “Some people are just born with greatness and he is one of them,” said art critic Gowri Ramnarayan.
“He was in his early twenties when he played Lord Shiva, in Kumarasambhava, while Rukmini Devi, much older, played Parvati,” recalled dancer V.P. Dhananjayan, recalling the many monumental productions of Kalakshetra that Kunhiraman was part of. “While many commented that he looked like her son in the performance, Athai's (Rukmini Devi) response remained — nobody knows Shiva's age, he is ageless,” he said.
Another artist and disciple of Mr. Kunhiraman, Barbara Framm from France, recalling her dance lessons with him said he was the heartbeat of Kalakshetra then. “Unless he had something very important to transmit, he would not speak. His power was in his quietness,” said Asha Pillai, another disciple.
His immense dedication to the art form, his meticulous movements and expressions used to narrate a story, apart from his excellence in the other aspects of Kathakali made him an artist par excellence, the dancers said. “He was a craftsman too, who deftly repaired and designed crowns for the performance,” said Mr. Dhananjayan. “Few know that the artificial chutti that we use today is his contribution,” he added. The energy of creativity Kalakshetra fosters in its artists is unique, said photographer and journalist Sadanand Menon.
Friday, January 14, 2011
monkeys on Arunchala mountain
Bhagavan's companions: the monkeys
"Between 1899 and 1922 Bhagavan lived on various caves on the Arunachala hill. The hill abounded in monkeys. Bhagavan would refer to the hill as their kingdom and humans as the intruders. Bhagavan was very intimate with the monkeys. He watched them closely, with love and sympathy. He was a jnani, a sarvajna (the omniscient). Therefore, the love he had for all beings was natural. He was a keen observer too. He moved closely with monkeys, understood their crys, their conduct, and knew the life stories of most of them. He observed that they had their own code of conduct...He would tell the visitors that the monkeys recognized him as one of their community, and was accepted as an arbitrator in their disputes. Whenever there was a misunderstanding or quarrel, the monkeys would come to Bhagavan, and he would find a solution to pacify them and stop their quarreling. He knew about their ways of life, their attitudes, priorities, and their pranks, too!"
On the way up the hill to visit Skanda Ashram, one of the caves in which Bhagavan lived for close to 6 years, we encountered many many monkeys along the path. They seemed just as curious about us, as we did, about them. They allowed me to photograph them at quite close range, and were of course appreciative, when we offered them some bananas we had happened to carry along.
There are also many monkeys right in front of our guest house and up in the trees above us...
Circumambulation of Mountain, the inner pathway
The walk was flat, but rocky, and took us a little under 4 hours. We got to watch the sun come up and meditated in one of the small caves that Ramana had frequented in his years on the mountain.
This was all beautiful and memorable, and I was happy to see that every foot of the surrounding area had been planted with new saplings --- an effort that the local "green" organization has obviously been working hard on.
On the other hand, it was hard to come to terms with the fact that there was a constant background noise of honking trucks and heavy vehicular traffic. When Ramana Maharshi lived on the mountain, how quiet it must have been! Conducive to meditation...now it is hardly that.
In spite of the general cacophony of the surrounding town, this place is still considered to be an oasis of tranquility, and sitting in the caves where Ramana spent time, one could get a taste of this.
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