The Harikatha
In recent times, my desi movie watching experiences have
become 5-6 hour rituals. I end up needing a second movie to recover from the
first head-ache-inducing one I watched without reading reviews. This, despite a
halfway interval to refresh my thoughts and a cell phone for constant company. Did
I expect too much? All I wanted was to be entertained, and have some food for
thought.
Last week, when I got home from a three hour concert, I wanted
to watch or hear nothing else. I wanted the thoughts and sounds to linger,
uncorrupted by extraneous noise or gibberish on TV. After a rather long time, I
had spent three continuous hours without fidgeting for an electronic device –
my laptop, tablet, or phone. It was a performance I would not forget in a long
time.
Much of the hall was packed when I walked in, husband in
tow. Elderly families bustled about, greeting each other. It seemed to be a
close-knit community where everyone knew someone else. We picked a place near
the rear exit, in case my husband got bored. It was his first time ever at any Indian
classical performance, things one is forced into upon marriage. I spent some
time looking around, it was my maiden concert experience in the Silicon Valley.
The hall resembled any other Sabha in Chennai during the December season,
except that it was embellished with a touch of NRI riches. The beautiful
auditorium was full of colorful Kanchivarams
(Silk sarees) teamed up with designer blouses and matching accessories
saved for special occasions. Grandmas and Grandpas visiting from India were at
ease amidst the noisy crowd, complete with wailing kids and uneasy parents
taking turns to carry the child outside. I felt completely at home.
She appeared on stage, in resplendent blue, the stones in her
ornaments shining as bright as the face, earnest, energetic and eager. It was
not easy to command such a crowd for a classical art form. Many of them had
witnessed her performances over the years in India and here and she recognized
the faces in the audience, many of whom came into the concert with very high
expectations – to have a good time, to listen to a great story interspersed with
great music and good humor, identical to our expectations from a good desi
movie.
She pulled it off, effortlessly. With each of these elements
balanced to perfection, there was never a dull moment in the Harikatha. The
story of the day was the Vaamana avataram, one of Vishnu’s ten avatars that are
popularly known. It was a story majority of the audience knew very well. I
wondered how she would keep us hooked with such a predictable storyline. She
began by telling us how there were many more avatars of The Lord than the ten
that are popular, and how we know but a fraction of the life of one of the several
deities we worship. She wow-ed the audience by demonstrating the intricacies in every
composition she sang- one song was tuned to flow like a river, another took
word play to a new level by excellent placement of rhyme, a third showed why the
ordering of sangathis (different ways of expressing a line) had an important role
in conveying meaning and were not just elements of artistic freedom. Every
composition from the greats was great by conscious design, not arbitrary mixing
of raga and tala.
Discourses on greed, humility, generosity can be extremely
boring and patronizing. In this form, every message was accompanied by humor,
and relevance – be it the NRIs’ constant conundrum of where to live, grandparents’
baby sitting troubles or naming of children with arbitrary cool-sounding Sanskrit
words with dubious meanings. Contrary to traditional classical performances which
completely bore to death most young men in their 20s, this one required no
knowledge of classical music, all it needed was the open mindedness of a child
listening to a story unfold. The husband was happy.
I googled to find the
rich history of the Harikatha dating back to the 17th century, when
Maratha mutts were established in Tanjore, Tamilnadu. Practised as Kalakshepam
prior to that, the Marathi Keertan brought with it the element of
entertainment, drama and metrical compositions to keep the audience spellbound.
The presentation is extremely demanding of the performer, requiring scholarship
in music, monologue, dialogue, acting, kathas (stories) and upakathas (anecdotes, often in lighter vein) to drive the message. Historically, the art form
acquainted the common man with our great epics and societal code of conduct
while providing recreation after a hard day’s work. It was also used as a
medium of mass communication to propagate messages including social reform, religious
amity and mobilize masses during the freedom movement.
Of late, there has been resurgence in mythological fiction.
The Shiva Trilogy by Amish gave an earthy twist to the tale of Shiva, selling
over two million copies and becoming one of the most read Indian series. Rumor
has it that even Karan Johar, bitten by the bug, is filming the series. During my recent visit to
India, I recollect seeing a number of mythology based thrillers in my favorite
second hand book store. I wonder if there are many like me looking for an easy
and entertaining way to understand why we do some things we do without
question. Perhaps like me, they struggle to distinguish between science, custom,
religion and superstition in several day to day practices at home. For all you guys, explore the Harikatha, at least, give it a thought! Bring it on
people, the generation is looking for answers, as I look forward to my next
harikatha and to my next mythological fiction to unravel some of these
mysteries with much less effort than I would otherwise.
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