Locomotoring

For last decade, I have made it my practice to listen to Chandi Path (“Mahisasur Mardini“), on Mahalaya, the first day of Durga Puja, early at 4 am. This is the day, the Goddess takes form to slay the half man half buffalo demon Mahisasur. This year, on Mahalaya, we were at Paicines, it was a new moon night and we were busy shooting Andromeda galaxy. By the time, we were tired of star gazing and shivering, it was well past 3 am. Could I have listened to Chandi Path with coyotes howling at stars? I was too exhausted to appreciate the beautiful chants of Birendra Krishna Bhadra. I eventually listened to Chandi path 7 days later while making breakfast and thought about my fellow Bengalis who congregate by the oldest radio shop in Kolkata to listen to Mahalaya (link).

A day after, we received news of a family health emergency. That cranked up anxiety levels all around. On the fifth day after Mahalaya, I went rambling to clear my head and on a whim, decided to run down the hill. I didn’t pause to ask what is worst that might happen. It wasn’t a particularly tall hill or a long trail. My knees complained for a few days afterwards, but they didn’t scream murder. I considered the run a success. I repeated this downhill trail running a few days later and this time, I had walked uphill with the intent of running downhill. I ran longer. My knees complained a little more, and again I didn’t hear them scream. I don’t like running on flat grounds or uphill, but I plan on running downhill as often as I can.

I learnt my first Kathak tukdaa on Vijay Dashami, the 10th day since taking form when Goddess Durga slays Mahisasur. A short sequence, “Tigdha tigdha thei thei”, done three times in a row that combines a chakaar (spin), “taka taka” footwork and the first hand gesture. The word tukdaa in Hindi translates to “a piece”. Like a piece of rock, or breaking a heart in pieces. In Kathak, a tukdaa is a short dance piece, a tiny little tool in the toolkit. At Navatman, it the first little tukdaa this dance school teaches. I am not sure how common it is for dance forms to have a verbal rhythm. Kathak has it. The verbal rhythm in Kathak is referred to as “Bol”. In Hindi, the word “bol” means utterance. Having heard Kathak bols on many different occasions across several decades, it is an intimately familiar set of utterances. But I don’t know the bol, I just can recognize it like I recognize the sounds a bird might make. Like a second language, I am learning by rote. The word Navatman translates to “new soul”. In this search for rhythm, my soul is indeed renewed, but I sure don’t look it. Sometimes I catch my reflection when practicing and find my face screwed up in utter concentration as if I am scanning an excel spreadsheet.

By Vijay Dashmi, the family health situation had scaled back from emergency to a new normal. My Oura ring notified me that I had walked my way through 6 marathons in the last quarter. To celebrate I made us some temple food – bhoger khichuri, labra and chutney for dinner, my way of thanking the universe for another year, the year that brought stars back in my life.