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Exchanging Notes
As a week-long
celebration of regional music brought out the many rich traditions of
the North-east, it also drew attention to a deep sense social and cultural
alienation. India Today's S. Kalidas reports.
As
Yamon Singhajit Singh, the eminent Manipuri dance guru, stood at Delhi's
Indira Gandhi Airport awaiting a flight to Guwahati, he was approached
by a fellow passenger. "Excuse me," he said, "aren't you
Birju Maharaj?" An amused Singh replied, "No, I am from Manipur.
I'm not Birju Maharaj." Taking in Singh's high cheek bones and small
nose, the passenger declared triumphantly, "Ah! now I know ... you
are Ratan Thiam (Manipur's most well-known theatre person)." "No
I'm not Thiam either, I am Singhajit Singh," protested Singh. "Well,
you all look so much like each other," said the passenger rudely.
Over the years, Singh has learnt to take such racist arrogance in
his stride. "Since the 1950s when I first came to Delhi," he
says,
"I have felt I am an oddity. Firstly I am a Manipuri and then I am
a dancer." Like Singh, there were 500 other artistes from the north-eastern
states—Sikkim, Assam, Tripura, Meghalaya, Arunachal, Nagaland and
Manipur—and other emoinent musicologists, artists and critics from
elsewheer in the country who were converging on Guwahati to attend Brihaddesi,
a festival and seminar on the music traditions of the region organised
by the Sangeet Natak Akademi (SNA) and the Ministry of Tourism and Culture.
And as in the case of Singh, the sense of alienation ran deep. As those
gathered discussed and debated the region's rich traditions, they could
not help but dwell on the state of the museum auditorium they were in.
Poor in display, unkempt and unclean, it prompted N. Pattabhiraman, founder-editor
of Sruti, India's oldest music and
dance magazine, to remark on its unusable toilets. Cutting through the
verbose and complex presentations by several
speakers, art writer from Mumbai Shanta Gokhale rued the lack of
local participation. "Very few people from Guwahati city have
cared to come for the performances in the evenings," she noted.
Among the festival's subtler attractions were Aribam Shyam
Sarma's much-awarded documentary films, The Orchids of Manipur and Koro
(The Gate). Sarma has used folk lore and songs as the narrative in his
films to reveal the magic of the jewel state in resplendent colours. "Music
and dance for us are a part of memory, ritual and life, and not a performance
in the sense you know it," he says. One has to appreciate the customs,
history and practices of these cultures to understand their music. So
it was little wonder that the most respected guest at the festival was
social anthropologist B.K. Roy Burman, known for his deep study of the
North-east.
Roy Burman had been invited to chair the Bodo literary conference at Kokrajhar
the next day, a tricky situation as the chief minister had also decided
to drop by. "The last time I was invited to the Bodo Sahitya Sammelan,
over 40,000 people attended it," says Roy Burman, who has facilitated
talks between Bodo tribals and the Government on several occasions. But
he is now tired of them all. "At 80, I have little fear for my life,"
he says. "So now I want to go on a padayatra talking to people individually,
not arbitrating between groups and parties."
Meanwhile, in the gardens of the Ashok Brahmaputra hotel, facing
the mighty river, a large, aesthetic, virgin white pandal drew
much attention. It was the handiwork of the Jawaharlal Manipuri
Dance Academy in Imphal. But Sarbari Mukherji, assistant secretary (music)
of the SNA, spoke of how "the boys from Manipur had sad tales to
tell: of unemployment, poverty and frustration", despite their vast
talent.
What emerged from the week-long meet was a reaffirmation of the fact that
if the North-east's rich heritage had to survive, the
margi policy makers of the Dilli durbar had to be exposed more
seriously to their concerns. Incidentally, the Brihadaasi festival derives
its name from what is probably the first known text on ethnomusicology,
Matanga's Brihaddesi. Written around the 11th century, this Sanskrit text
deals with the crucial cultural dialectic between what is considered the
mainstream or "national" and the local, regional or ethnic.
In Indian musicological discourse these have been called the margi (of
the path or road) and the desi (of the country) traditions. The Manipuris
now have a highly sophisticated tradition of music, dance, crafts and
textiles which call for greater national attention. It was unanimously
proposed at the seminar that the SNA hold a festival of Manipur in Delhi
soon.
The same could apply to the myriad other cultural streams that
crisscross the hills and vales of the North-east: the Nagas, the
Kukis, the Leesoos, the Khasis, the Mizos and the Lepchas to list
just a few. While the Assamese recently got their traditional Satra dance
recognised as a classical form by the sna, a better
appreciation of the Ankia Nat or Bhaona, even by the Assamese
elite themselves, has not taken realised. Extremist violence, the
dismal state of the tea industry and the potholes in the green of
the local golf courses have taken away much of the state's time.
Five decades of long distance political management of the North
east has only led to strife, impoverishment, breakdown of social
orders and problems relating to drugs and AIDS. Perhaps it is time
now for a change in tactic. Cultural initiatives could apply the
much needed balm.
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