Pepper Spray
………With becoming a republic; a free and dynamic nation in 1947, India’s parliament was established with a hope of building a country for liberal and democratic values. The parliament witnessed proselytized and thought provoking debates. The house once echoed with the voices of political giants like Pt. Nehru, Maulana Azad, Lohia, and Bajpai. Now our elected members prefer ‘Bhagat Singh’ style of self-expression over normal (read orthodox) way of speaking at the allotted time…(Which Singh was not provided duh…..).. With this new and quite effective way of functioning, Lok Sabha TV may even catch up with Goswami’s TRP.
‘Why would an MLA require pepper spray?’ I think this is not a justified question.
But of course, our story has nothing to do with any of these things.
Everyone writes a story about small cities, one of the reasons for this being that nobody checks on the background details- the history and geography of those cities mentioned. So the writer could create its fabled version of the city, romanticizing or demonizing his land. (and yes! ‘ye mere vyaktigat vichar hain’).
My story is about a wannabe metro city, Lucknow. This also is a story about its inherited dance style and of the dancer.
“Was not Wazid Ali Shah a dancer?”
And here is shiraj, a dancer. One of the Kathakas…. arguing with his elder sister who propositioned him to leave his ‘effeminate’ style.
“Was not Wazid Ali Shah a dancer?”, he shouted. “and he also wrote a treatise on dancing!, Kalka-Binda, whose dheory is a pilgrimage to performers around the world and the whole Maharaj lineage Pt. Chitresh Das and all…..”
“And then there are you!” Kulsoom interrupted. “you are not them and they are not you! They are gurus and probably do not have a sister who has to face the entire taunt her friends throw at her.”
“I do not dance for them!”
“That is one of my concern, who do you dance for?”
This had been a troubling question for every dance enthusiast, “Who do they dance for?”. The dancer would be thrown into retrospect. ‘God’, ‘Audience’, ‘Friend’ and ‘Soul’ are but deceiving answers, superfluous indeed. Yet our Shiraj will not stop arguing, he is not going to back up, after all, it is not easy to have a Kathak guru for a boy even in a Gharana city.
Once his friend asked, “Is it really hard being a male Kathak Dancer?”
“Not at all, the only difficulty is to find a master”, he politely answered.
“why is that?”
“The male gurus are a little hesitant to admit a boy.”
“and female gurus?”
“Please do not make me start!”. He grinned
Even though his usual detestation of Feminist women gurus, he was a disciple of Chitrangda. She was a beautiful lady in her early thirties. One should look at her while she dances. Her hair was straight but curled down the waist. She had a wheatish complexion, a near 5 feet 8 inches. Her tatkar was lightening speed. She seemed to manifest Gauri in Lasya and Bhairava in Tanadava. Her face was perfect, light brown eyes that would lighten anything she looks at and a smile to die for.
Shiraj was fond of her, and she was of him.
Now when enough bhumika is made, I shall return to the story.
Shiraj was not in his usual self that day, he was feeling uneasy. Uneasy but also relieved. ‘No school today’, he thought and called on to his sister.
“Didi, I’ll not go to school today”
“why so?”
“No one teaches there!”
“why is it called school then?”
Anyway, he did convince his sister. After watching movies and incessantly changing channels for hours he got bored. So he called Chitrangda, ‘Maybe I can go and see what she does in working hours’
She picked up the phone, “yes Shiraj?”
“May I come there now?”
“right now?”
“yes!”
“yeah, anytime dear!” she responded.
So Shiraj informed her sister and went.
“Hello dear! No school today?”, children are used to this kind of greeting.
“Na, just bunked, what’s with you?”
“Over with morning classes!”
“Tiresome ha?”
“yeah”
So Shiraj and Chitrangda chatted for a while.
“we may practice”
“yeah sure”, and then they danced.
Starting from gat, then to badi gat. Fierce tatkar on teen tal of table and on pakhawaj. All chakkars encapsulated into a choreography tukda by tukda.
“I’m tired”, Chirangda confessed
“Me too”, said Shiraj. “Should I go now?”, he asked.
“Not at all”, she smiled, “you can rest here”
so Shiraj slouched on the couch while Chitrangda went to make him a Sherbet. She returned with a glass full and gave it to him sitting beside him.
“I’m so tired”, she exhaled.
“so am I”, Shiraj said without much interest.
“My shoulder hurts”
“Maybe because of swift turns”, He hypothesized
“Yes maybe”, She looked at Shiraj with the corner of her eyes. “Will you massage me?”
“hmmm” Shiraj just murmured.
“It hurts a lot”
“okay”, Shiraj agreed.
So Chitrahgda sat with her back towards Shiraj and Shiraj kneeled on couched for better orientation and started pressing her shoulder.
“A little left, a little right, rub near the neck, yes there”, and Shiraj just followed her direction.
“Is it more dark near the neck area?” She asked
“No, why?”, Shiraj enquired
“behind is usually darker”
“It’s okay”
“You are so fair, your hand contrast my shoulder so much”, She sighed. “people do not like dark girls”
“You are not that dark” Shiraj further assures, “In fact some people like me, like darker complexion”
“You like dark girls?”
“Not too dark but a little”
“Like me?”
“yes”
Chitrangda puts her hand over Shiraj’s and started patting. Shiraj was feeling a little uneasy now.
She turned over and looked into his eyes, “you are so beautiful”, she said
“yes I’ve heard people saying that”, Shiraj who was now sweating acknowledged. “I should probably go!”
“Why?”, Chitrangda contested.
She touched her face and started rubbing, “Why are you so afraid?”, Shiraj was trembling, and when Chitrangada with her fingers stroked his lips he broke.
“I’ve to go”, he got up and hasted towards the door.
“What are you afraid of?” Chitrangda shouted. “You haven’t finished your Sherbet!”
Shiraj returned to his home. After calming himself for an hour or so, he went to his sister who was working in the kitchen.
“I’ll not go for Kathak class”
“Enough practice for today? Huh”, His sister asked.
“No I mean I’ll never go for kathak class, and I may need a pepper spray”
There was a confused look on His sister before she smiled and returned to her work.
=============X==========X==========X============
………With becoming a republic; a free and dynamic nation in 1947, India’s parliament was established with a hope of building a country for liberal and democratic values. The parliament witnessed proselytized and thought provoking debates. The house once echoed with the voices of political giants like Pt. Nehru, Maulana Azad, Lohia, and Bajpai. Now our elected members prefer ‘Bhagat Singh’ style of self-expression over normal (read orthodox) way of speaking at the allotted time…(Which Singh was not provided duh…..).. With this new and quite effective way of functioning, Lok Sabha TV may even catch up with Goswami’s TRP.
‘Why would an MLA require pepper spray?’ I think this is not a justified question.
But of course, our story has nothing to do with any of these things.
Everyone writes a story about small cities, one of the reasons for this being that nobody checks on the background details- the history and geography of those cities mentioned. So the writer could create its fabled version of the city, romanticizing or demonizing his land. (and yes! ‘ye mere vyaktigat vichar hain’).
My story is about a wannabe metro city, Lucknow. This also is a story about its inherited dance style and of the dancer.
“Was not Wazid Ali Shah a dancer?”
And here is shiraj, a dancer. One of the Kathakas…. arguing with his elder sister who propositioned him to leave his ‘effeminate’ style.
“Was not Wazid Ali Shah a dancer?”, he shouted. “and he also wrote a treatise on dancing!, Kalka-Binda, whose dheory is a pilgrimage to performers around the world and the whole Maharaj lineage Pt. Chitresh Das and all…..”
“And then there are you!” Kulsoom interrupted. “you are not them and they are not you! They are gurus and probably do not have a sister who has to face the entire taunt her friends throw at her.”
“I do not dance for them!”
“That is one of my concern, who do you dance for?”
This had been a troubling question for every dance enthusiast, “Who do they dance for?”. The dancer would be thrown into retrospect. ‘God’, ‘Audience’, ‘Friend’ and ‘Soul’ are but deceiving answers, superfluous indeed. Yet our Shiraj will not stop arguing, he is not going to back up, after all, it is not easy to have a Kathak guru for a boy even in a Gharana city.
Once his friend asked, “Is it really hard being a male Kathak Dancer?”
“Not at all, the only difficulty is to find a master”, he politely answered.
“why is that?”
“The male gurus are a little hesitant to admit a boy.”
“and female gurus?”
“Please do not make me start!”. He grinned
Even though his usual detestation of Feminist women gurus, he was a disciple of Chitrangda. She was a beautiful lady in her early thirties. One should look at her while she dances. Her hair was straight but curled down the waist. She had a wheatish complexion, a near 5 feet 8 inches. Her tatkar was lightening speed. She seemed to manifest Gauri in Lasya and Bhairava in Tanadava. Her face was perfect, light brown eyes that would lighten anything she looks at and a smile to die for.
Shiraj was fond of her, and she was of him.
Now when enough bhumika is made, I shall return to the story.
Shiraj was not in his usual self that day, he was feeling uneasy. Uneasy but also relieved. ‘No school today’, he thought and called on to his sister.
“Didi, I’ll not go to school today”
“why so?”
“No one teaches there!”
“why is it called school then?”
Anyway, he did convince his sister. After watching movies and incessantly changing channels for hours he got bored. So he called Chitrangda, ‘Maybe I can go and see what she does in working hours’
She picked up the phone, “yes Shiraj?”
“May I come there now?”
“right now?”
“yes!”
“yeah, anytime dear!” she responded.
So Shiraj informed her sister and went.
“Hello dear! No school today?”, children are used to this kind of greeting.
“Na, just bunked, what’s with you?”
“Over with morning classes!”
“Tiresome ha?”
“yeah”
So Shiraj and Chitrangda chatted for a while.
“we may practice”
“yeah sure”, and then they danced.
Starting from gat, then to badi gat. Fierce tatkar on teen tal of table and on pakhawaj. All chakkars encapsulated into a choreography tukda by tukda.
“I’m tired”, Chirangda confessed
“Me too”, said Shiraj. “Should I go now?”, he asked.
“Not at all”, she smiled, “you can rest here”
so Shiraj slouched on the couch while Chitrangda went to make him a Sherbet. She returned with a glass full and gave it to him sitting beside him.
“I’m so tired”, she exhaled.
“so am I”, Shiraj said without much interest.
“My shoulder hurts”
“Maybe because of swift turns”, He hypothesized
“Yes maybe”, She looked at Shiraj with the corner of her eyes. “Will you massage me?”
“hmmm” Shiraj just murmured.
“It hurts a lot”
“okay”, Shiraj agreed.
So Chitrahgda sat with her back towards Shiraj and Shiraj kneeled on couched for better orientation and started pressing her shoulder.
“A little left, a little right, rub near the neck, yes there”, and Shiraj just followed her direction.
“Is it more dark near the neck area?” She asked
“No, why?”, Shiraj enquired
“behind is usually darker”
“It’s okay”
“You are so fair, your hand contrast my shoulder so much”, She sighed. “people do not like dark girls”
“You are not that dark” Shiraj further assures, “In fact some people like me, like darker complexion”
“You like dark girls?”
“Not too dark but a little”
“Like me?”
“yes”
Chitrangda puts her hand over Shiraj’s and started patting. Shiraj was feeling a little uneasy now.
She turned over and looked into his eyes, “you are so beautiful”, she said
“yes I’ve heard people saying that”, Shiraj who was now sweating acknowledged. “I should probably go!”
“Why?”, Chitrangda contested.
She touched her face and started rubbing, “Why are you so afraid?”, Shiraj was trembling, and when Chitrangada with her fingers stroked his lips he broke.
“I’ve to go”, he got up and hasted towards the door.
“What are you afraid of?” Chitrangda shouted. “You haven’t finished your Sherbet!”
Shiraj returned to his home. After calming himself for an hour or so, he went to his sister who was working in the kitchen.
“I’ll not go for Kathak class”
“Enough practice for today? Huh”, His sister asked.
“No I mean I’ll never go for kathak class, and I may need a pepper spray”
There was a confused look on His sister before she smiled and returned to her work.
=============X==========X==========X============
