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 Our Voice by Natya Vriksha Collective - Shveta Arora e-mail: arorashveta1806@gmail.com Photos courtesy: Natya Vriksha Collective December 17, 2024 WISCOMP (Women In Security, COnflict Management and Peace) celebrated 25 years with a multi-logue performance on women, war and peace. The presentation Our Voice was specially choreographed for this milestone by Geeta Chandran and presented by the Natya Vriksha Collective at IIC Delhi in October 2024. The concept appeared most relevant in these times, when on one hand, Russia and Ukraine are at war and on the other, Iran and Israel. The images of what innocent citizens are going through in these war-riddled areas are disturbing. The use of nukes by any one of these warring nations will tip the world towards a world war. In modern times, when one has relatives all over the world, and global citizens are more connected than ever, the very thought of war becomes a burden on the soul.  Her Voice, presented 25 years back by Geeta Chandran, was a narrative of Draupadi as she laments the futility of a Kurukshetra war, though she was at the core of it. She had lost all her sons to war. Our Voice is focused on women searching for justice and agency in a world that hems them in with violence and war. The key inspiration was Lakshmi Kannan's poem 'Unquiet Waters', which I am quoting here. 'I take the shape of the receptacle that holds me I take the contours of the earthen pitcher tall, squat or lean I take the form of the bottle or the glass on the table I even take on the colours of the utensils in which I dwell. If you can but break the pitcher, just once and set me free I would flow into the stream, gurgling I'll catch the sun in a jewelled glitter.' The woman here is compared to water, wherein the two are trapped in situations which are not in their control. The water is colourless, formless. Whatever container you put it in, it will take on that shape and colour. But it does not lose its fluidity. The moment it is free to flow, it continues on its journey to the ocean. The dancers wore black or black-blue sarees with a magenta border, no jewellery and barely any make-up. Sometimes, travel in Delhi can really upset you, especially if you know you will be missing out on a performance you have been waiting for. In the first section, they depicted in a group how women fall into the trap of doing certain things and then become captive to that habit. When I entered, the dancers were braiding each other's hair. In the next piece Geeta Chandran was standing with her back to the audience, showing the water filling receptacles. The play of blue light on her created the effect of water, water that is shapeless and colourless. The shape is that of the container and the colour of the liquid is clear. With the group, Geeta depicted women shunning advances and running, hiding, scared as the animal-like men chase them. The group of dancers form a circle and capture Geeta Chandran in the middle. She desperately tries to escape but then surrenders as she is jostled around. As with the water, which though fluid, cannot escape from its vessel, so a woman, captive in desperate situations, cannot escape. She is forced shut as she surrenders.  The women going around their household chores tend to become like puppets. The act of the puppets was put up by Madhura Bhrushundi, Sowmya Narayanan, R. Amruthasruthi and Yadavi Shakdher Menon. The aalaap and the jatis in the background score created the aura of fear and repression. Women were shown to run amok, hide and crawl backwards to protect themselves just as flowing waters are stoppered and misused. The sound was of gurgling waters, with blue lights rotating in the silence and the darkness. The voiceover by Geeta Chandran said that the water waits for the pitcher to break to be set free to join its mother, the gurgling river. A ghatam was placed in the centre and each dancer wound a cloth around it. As they twisted the cloth, they lifted the ghatam higher and they went around in a circle with it in the centre. The ghatam has a deep relation with the rural women.  The sounds of war sirens were disturbing and the dancers lined up as troops. The jatis for marching were recited by dancers on stage as well as a few sitting in the audience, who suddenly arose and began reciting to join those on stage recitation. The marauding troops march on, killing innocent children and women. White sheets were used to show armies marching on. The women are defiled and killed, which was shown by the feet of dancers kicking, moving, fighting, resisting and then surrendering. The survivors collect their remaining belongings in the sheets and trudge on to find succour. The sheets were then used as shrouds for the dead, whom they mourn for. They search for their husbands, sons and brothers. The wailing women were a moving sight. To fathom the grief of these families is difficult. The cries of hungry jackals and hooting owls made the impact even greater. The dancers then draped the shrouds on their heads to show the widows and other women who have lost the men of their families. Geeta Chandran recited verses from 'Gandhari's Lament', addressing Krishna as the lotus-eyed one. In the entire episode of the Mahabharata, Gandhari was the one who lost all the members of her family, except for her blind husband. After losing 100 sons to war, she knew there was nothing more devastating for humans than war. Geeta Chandran depicted lifting the shrouds of the dead and recognizing her folks. The poetry says: the daughters of my house, widowed of their lords, brooding over the dead bodies of their lords, their locks unbound, brooding over their dead bodies. Here lie the ornaments and armour of the heroes. Mothers without their sons, and women without their husbands.  The next sound was that of school bells chiming, children playing in school. A child recited a poem. Geeta Chandran wiped her tears and moved with a smile to welcome a child waiting for her mother. The child is fed and put to sleep. In nritta, the water is shown flowing with the sounds of the waves. Blocks of red and orange colour were stacked to make a structure with a hollow centre. The pot of clay was dropped into it, where it broke into pieces. The water that is freed, flows out to join its mother, the river, to flow into the ocean. The birds soar into the sky. The nritta that they performed together had rhythmic footwork, which was forceful, and hastas expansive. The notes of freedom were ringing, hope being the thaap of their feet.  The production was very effective, the message loud and clear that war impacts children and women the most. And today, in these times, when man claims to have become totally civilized, wars still continue. It will take a nuke to start the next world war. Only a dancer like Geeta Chandran could have done and interpreted the research that has gone into this production. The Natya Vriksha Collective presented her choreography very effectively. They worked within their Bharatanatyam vocabulary and expressions to give a message that was larger than life. Costuming, props and very effective lighting made the theme of water a visual treat. The use of jatis and bols as background score and the sound effects were very impactful. And of course, the dancers and their guru were flawless. They left a mark on the minds of the audience. A very interesting observation by Rajiv Mehrotra in the audience after the performance was that women as water also have the ability to rise as steam, form clouds and rain back as pure water. Many eminent artists and art enthusiasts gave their opinion on the performance in a session after the presentation. The dancers of the Natya Vriksha Collective performing were R. Amritha Shruthi, Sowmya Lakshmi Narayan, Madhura Bhrushundi, Mehak Chawla, Anindita Narayanan, Yadavi Shakdher Menon, Shubhashree Roy, Arundhati R. Panikar and Kamalini Mukherjee. The child's voice was recorded by Arshiya. The soundscape was by Prateek Biswas and lights by Tamizh Arasi.  Shveta Arora is a dance-mad writer who chronicles classical dance events in Delhi (and also those online). In 2009, she started the blog Kala Upasana at delhiculturecomment.blogspot.com, where she began posting her own writing along with photographs clicked by Anoop Arora, her husband. She's been dancing all her life as a devotee, but resumed her formal training in Kathak in her 50s and has passed her fifth year Kathak exams. |
