Upaasana: The Divine Dancers of Bengal
Capturing an art experience from Tagore Theater 2019
I never expected such a beautiful show to happen when I walked into Tagore Theatre. Upaasana are a wonderful dance association and they are globally reknown. I highly recommend you to search them up online and see their work. They performed ‘Parikrama’ for us today.
Begins
Mandir Parikrama
Loud speakers echoed, ‘Life is a journey,’ in the auditorium. Colorfully costumed apsaras were arriving on stage.
‘Nascent dawn..melancholy dusk…The frail earth, the malevolent happiness and the feminine agony…Life remains an endless Parikrama. A journey without end.’
The male Khatak dancers stood at the corners waving peacock feather fans, and even they were so graceful. That was the remarkable thing about these world class performers — when they looked out to us, it was like they weren’t seeing the sea of faces. There was a complete absorption, a smiling divinity illuminated their face. They appeared celestial.
Monologue of The Indian Spirit
The head guru spoke with utmost expression, about the centuries of storytelling history Khatak brought from the Indo-Gangetic plains. Of profound wisdom, tales of the epics, portraits of Gods being communicated through dance. ‘Rasiks’, the art lovers and nectar drinkers of the city were invited to celebrate. It was like he was inhabited by a deeply spiritual, humble and sensitive being.
The Graceful Dancers
Taalchakra Parikrama
‘Taal is our inevitable destiny,’ the same deep voice echoed around us. ‘Our obvious destination — a cycle, a chakra in itself. Taal holds the whole universe in it’s rhythmic embrace. From the ever burning Sun to the mutest murmor of the human heart.’
With that, an ensemble of purple clad dancers came twirling out rapidly from all corners of the stage. I just wanted to name this part of their dance as, ‘The Flight of Birds.’ They were coming together and breaking apart, gliding at an ever increasing pace. You couldn’t look away from the expression, the grace of their postures, the formations that rippled forth like ocean waves.
Each dancer had their own bhava or emotion. The centerstage lady had deep pleasantness and grace fixed on her face. There was the a dancer with princely stature and a divine grace, along with a radiant smile. There was also a fervent, intense dancer who pierced you with his eyes. The dancers’ level of poise was unbelievable.
Lilaprasanga Parikrama
‘The tapestry of the following presentation has been fondly woven in a single thread — Krishna….Repleate with Vaishnavite symbology…The emotional subleties of man for God. Krishna. The soft, tender, ever playful and on the other hand — the fierce and forceful.’
A whole new world can exist in an auditorium’s darkened lights and powerful music. The stage lets another time, one that may have ceased to exist centuries ago, come alive before your very eyes. I closed my eyes to remember what I could, of the feeling of sacredness and God. Gold radiated underneath my eyelids and there was a feeling of true beauty and purity.
These two dancers were pushing and pulling against each other, winding a long yellow cloth around them. It seemed like struggle, like a battle between good and what is meant to test it. The frantic struggle, and yet the grace, with which Krishna did his leelas touched me. Tears startled me. Then there was part that particularly struck a cord. Red suddenly flashed around the stage and the dancers looked upon the centerstage woman in horror. The grace on her face had transformed, chillingly so, into intense greed. It totally threw me, how well they were able to manipulate their expressions. It was like breaking a sacred rule that shouldn’t have been broken.
Because all of a sudden she absolutely fell over. On stage, she writhed and shook like a electrified body. Thankfully there wasn’t too much of that to suffer through because all of a sudden the Guruji, symbolized as Krishna, came and broke her spell. The divine came and healed her.
Three Identities
Melbandhan
The expression on these dancers’ face was unlike any other. I was awed that this level of self possesion is possible. They looked at us, but really, they were in a world of their own. Divinity was visible in their countenance.
But it wasn’t still the end. One by one, both the dancers slid off stage but the Guruji remained in and came right up, front and center. And he seemed like he was doing a simple beat step, tatkaar, no complex movements. Yet his face was something else. It was like he was harboring the Earth’s energy, containing the uncontainable force. He looked left and right, moving his wrists, managing this and that — making sure nothing falls or breaks apart. It was like he was holding the world together in the midst of an apocalyptic earthquake, but doing so with such calm, tearful grace.
Missing You
Shringar-rasa-Parikrama
‘Life can never be loveless. Love encaptures life in a bond.’
This was like a much needed breather, for a moment, otherwise I’d have been a hyperventilating sugar cookie throughout the performance. Beautifully dressed, pink dancer ladies arrived on stage with veils trailing behind them. The centerstage lady was innocent in her expression and dreamy again, and she held a candle in her hand. All of them did various actions such as adorning, dancing and looking out of the window.
Calling Out to God
Bhakti-rasa Parikrama
This was a solo performance from Guruji. It was a devotional song. He was imploring us to find God, because he had endured many troubles in life. He was searching for someone who could give him peace — a resting place in the shade.
‘Umar beeti jaye…’ He simulated an old man on a walking stick, that life was passing by. Something in his utter surrender touched me. I was trying to catch what distinguished the students from the master, and though his movements were more fluid and classical, the steps emerging grom his golden bell ghoongroo tied ankles more complex — his emotional capabilities were astounding. His face was like a painting that constantly rearranged it’s colors.
The Blissful Dance
Ananda-rasa Parikrama
All dancers were unfolding onto the stage for this final act. In bright pink dresses and broad, real smiles on their faces — they moved and swirled like a peacock pack. It was called ‘Ananda’ after all, a celebration of bliss.
Guruji came to hold fort in the centre and for a moment, the pack divided into two halves. The centerstage lotus lady’s one and the one of with the Krishna dancer. They seemed to represent masculine and feminine.
In the end, everybody departed but Guruji and the lotus lady — whom I later found out to be his close relative. (Indian classical dance traditions are fun like that.) Both of them moved with a beauty and grace, a technicality of movements that equalled each other. But Guruji clearly directed the duet, he was guiding her. The lotus lady followed his steps, one by one.
And the funny thing was, she actually gleamed more. She stood out with her bright dress and lotus eyes in contrast to her humbler guru— but it was clear who was guiding her along with the gentility of a parent. Someone who was behind the spotlight; happy in her happiness.
Backstage
The roses had been given out to the artists. The audience was moving out. This was a troop of Bengali dancers, and I was able to congratulate them backstage. I also requested them for a copy of the script so I could write about it. It had been a joy and a privilege to watch them perform.
