Thank you IPTA...

The evening of 28^th December…. 

I never heard about IPTA until a week back. All I could make out from their brochure was IPTA stands for Indian People’s Theatre Association. Of the variety of programmes in offer by the Bhilai chapter, I was interested in the last day ie 28^th December – Rastriya Nirtya Samaroh (National Dance fest). 

The evening was a perfect confluence of folk, classical, music, talent and rhapsody. There was Jhumar, Bihu, Gidda, folk dances from Chhattisgarh, Rajasthan & Kashmir. The music was live and the energy infectious. 

The last time I attended a cultural dance fest that too with sole Indian folk & classical dances was way back in my school. By the time I came to college, the stages danced to the tune of cinematic versions. Rahman & Enigma ruled. Classical was enjoyed only when presented either as a fusion or as a fast number. Maybe pure classical or folk lost its fervour because the narration was sometimes incomprehensible to the masses. Of course… for arts and dance only a moron will attach language as a barrier. 

I'm a trained classical dancer. Cinematic and classical fusions have made me sick, although I have adorned those roles many times. The yearning for something pure had been there for long and the evening of 28^th gave me that vent.  

I walked into Kala Mandir just wanting to have a nice evening. But when I left, I was ecstatic…

Thank you IPTA…

The Strange crossroad

Once I reached a strange crossroad. Till that point, my road was more or less straight with occasional turns and huge gutters. Whenever I bumped over a gutter and hurt my back I used to wonder, why the hell do I smash into so many of them? Just when I finished contemplating one tryst with gutter, the next smashing was over and this went on till I reached this strange crossroad.

I stopped myself and viewed my options. Something inside, asked me to turn around and walk back. It was one of those moments in life when you just listen to yourself and do not dare to question it. I walked back. What started as a few fleet of steps ended up being a mile. And then, I felt I was ready for that strange crossroad.

My journey back was slow this time, but I saw the gutters and turns I traversed. They were evil, they were life threatening and they did give me scars. But I travelled so fast the first time that I failed to appreciate the challenges. I failed to see how it completely marred me even though I crossed them. This time I was careful. I traversed them but without hurting myself.

I reached the crossroad. A mile back I had made a choice. But now, I was apprehensive. I looked at the two options again. They both had a blind turn a few yards away. They both looked so similar yet so different. I know my destiny depends on the road. Is it?

No. 

My destiny depends on how I take those roads. The gutters showed me how challenges look, how they can inflict injuries on me, without even my conscious knowledge. I was racing against an unknown deadline. My walk back took time and now I’m not racing against anything.

My road trip started with several objectives. But now, all summed into just one objective – a pleasant ride. That solved everything. Even though it was several miles away I saw my destination. I know how it looks. I know how I would feel once there and more than anything I was not worried when I will reach. It will be in this lifetime and that’s all mattered.