Focal Point

Best wishes to one and all

2 February 2009, 11.40am, entrance to the Golden Temple Complex, Amritsar

October and November are busy months on the South Asian calendar. Religion and culture become mixed as Diwali, Eid, and Gurpurab celebrations occur globally, allowing family and friends to share in each other's happiness and offer best wishes. On these occasions, the desire for religious pilgrimmages can intensify, and those who are spiritually inclined may embark on such a trip, knowing that crowds and lineups at these places of worship may make the notion of a solitary visit for reflection and contemplation a lost dream. 

The photo above was not taken during a trip for a specific pilgrimmage. Rather, I was visiting India for two weeks, and in Amritsar for a three-day visit with my dad's side. My adventurous plans had effectively been kaiboshed by the terrorist attacks in November 2008. Terrorism aside, a visit to the Golden Temple can never be taken off my Indian agenda. Given that there was nothing special marked on the calendar, I had been naively hoping for a quietly spiritual visit.

There are many entrances into the marble complex of the Golden Temple, but only one walkway across the sarovar into the temple itself. While patiently waiting in line on the walkway, I became aware of whispers and sideways glances, interrupting the soothing hum of the hymns. A certain politician's name was being whispered and then we saw him stride past the waiting lineup, with a few clearly non-Indian visitors cautiously following in his wake.

Immediately I became irritated that these people were able to cut in front of all the rest who were baking in the increasingly stronger midday sun for their turn to enter the temple. Foreign-born NRI that I am, I also began to voice my displeasure in loudly whispered Punjabi and English, while my uncle tried to shush me. But seriously, why did my prayers have to be put on hold while some politicians breezed through on a photo-op in a sacred and spiritual place?

(One could argue that where my prayers are said is not as important as the fact that they are said, but I digress. I was pissed at that moment, and not just because I was sweating and tanning more than I cared to. A funny coincidence of life though, I now have reason to believe those visitors were Canadian dignitaries after a conversation I had with a certain Federal Minister as he commented on my photo exhibition during the 2009 SWFF at the ROM.)

After the political delegates had departed, I had my chance to enter the temple, along with the rest who had been waiting with me. Because of the delay, I reached the inner step just as the noon-time Ardas began, requiring me to stay inside until it was over - a blessed event because I was actually able to sit and savour being inside the temple. (Yes, I know, it all worked out to my advantage, but I couldn't have known that 15 minutes earlier, right?)

Still, is it fair for visitors at a holy shrine to have to wait for political photo ops before being able to say their prayers and pay their respects? Can you imagine the chaos that would have ensued if President Obama (and the Secret Service) had proceeded with a visit to the Golden Temple, as reported in the media? I think I prefer press releases for conveying best wishes. I leave it with you.

Wishing you all a Happy Gurpurab on the anniversary of Guru Nanak's birth.

Taking centre stage

 
15 October 2010, 12:19pm, 1 Front Street East, Toronto, Ontario

Question: If you're the Director of Programming at the Sony Centre for the Performing Arts, with a mandate from CEO Dan Brambilla to bring in programming suitable to a theatre for the people, and the people fall into one of 232 cultures in Toronto, where do you start looking for lavish large-scale culturally diverse shows to suit their tastes and anyone else that loves the arts?

Answer: The Internet, duh.

That's where Mark Hammond, Director of Programming at the Sony Centre for the Performing Arts, first found a show that piqued his interest. A trip to Berlin to watch a live performance, where he noted there were 5000 German patrons enthusiastically applauding throughout the glamourous spectacle, confirmed his instinct that The Merchants of Bollywood needed to come to Toronto.

Yay for us, that along with the shows currently at Mirvish, and memories of the ones by Livent, we can now add a production that showcases our culture in our city on the Sony Centre's stage. With everything Indian hot at the moment, and Bollywood the number one export from the land drenched in colour, it's little wonder that The Merchants of Bollywood is the story of Bollywood itself.

Traveling the stages of Europe and Australia since 2005, the show and its cast of 40 have met with rave reviews everywhere. Inspired by the Merchant family, prominent in the Indian film industry from the 1920s onward, the show features choreography to the music we know and love from Hindi films, complete with the clap of taalis, cham-cham of payals, and dhoom of the dhol.

Ah, the sound of the dhol is powerful anywhere and everywhere, but my heart feels its beat much differently when it's taken out of the usual dance floor context and booms out across a theatre stage. So excited to see this show.

PS - what's the storyline?

Shantilal Merchant is the last in the line of gurus, upholding the ancient traditions of the Kathak dance, the dance of the Gods. He was choreographer during the golden era of the Indian film industry but left when the industry grew commercial and lawless, influenced by western trends and dirty money. Years later, his granddaughter Ayesha left Rajasthan against his wishes to become the reigning queen of choreography of Bollywood films today. They call her “The Princess of Romance”.

Ayesha’s teenage rebellion against her classical training, in favor of modern western dance styles, becomes the seed of their feud. The damage seems irreparable. Ayesha resolves to visit Shantilal to make peace. Her journey takes her to the heart of India – the deserts of Rajasthan and into the arms of her childhood sweetheart Uday.

Her grandfather is dying. There is no one left to continue the family tradition, performing the dance of the Gods. Ayesha decides to marry Uday, and stay in Rajasthan to run the dance school and maintain the family traditions. But she will run the school her way, in a balance of old and new.