
Kanchipuram city today is divided as the Siva Kanchi, Vishnu Kanchi and Jaina Kanchi, but its connection to the Shakta cult goes way back to pre-Adi Shankara’s times. In fact, he established the Sri Chakra at the Kamakshi Amman temple, in order to refine the divine feminine energy of that region. The imagery of the divine feminine of this region became the vision and inspiration for Shyama Shastri, who composed the Bhairavi swarajathi Kamakshi.
The music composition is a masterpiece, a primer for Bhairavi. The musical saint-poet fixes the tempo of the composition at slow speed, which gives ample room for movement — whether to add musical embellishments, or to immerse in its rich emotional quotient. The sentiment of the composition is that of a devotee taking refuge at the feet of the Goddess; but, its beauty and treatment is how the tone of the devotee keeps shifting. It starts as an appeal, moves to praise, in between changes to restlessness, desperation and anger, finally returning to pleading again. The place where the composer’s devotion has allowed him the liberty to scold and chide the Goddess to stop being so indifferent is my favourite.
Recently, just as the curtain of Margazhi dropped down, I witnessed a Bharatanatayam recital in which this composition was the central piece. The dancer, Sarah Sangeetha, who is a student of Bharatanatyam dancers Renjith and Vijna, is of European origin, carried this demanding composition with ease and grace. Bhakti, being an ethereal sentiment, cannot be faked and Sarah handled the emotive segments also quite convincingly. How she managed to appropriate the composition whose emotional content is connected to a temple deity only goes on to prove that our native ideas are universal and bhakti is an inward journey that has nothing to do with ethnicity or faith. When asked about how she negotiated the language barriers, her response was, “It has been 30 years since my initiation into Bharatanatyam. I have become fairly comfortable with Kannada, and I can understand Tamil since my trips to Chennai have increased in the last decade. Nevertheless, language is still a big struggle for me. To overcome it, during the abhinaya segments, I construct a conversation inside my head that runs parallel to the padartha (that which corresponds to the meaning of the word). Besides, being a devotee of Devi, this composition moves me every time I listen to it.” Her response does not come as a surprise especially having witnessed her dance that was an earnest attempt. At no place in her portrayal of bhakti to the Goddess, there was an exaggeration, imitation or a showmanship.
Apart from Sarah’s dance, the high point of that evening’s performance was in the treatment of the musical as a dance composition. This may be a good starting point for those who complain that classical dance is too complex. It is true, Indian dance forms as a visual art hides layers. But only by engaging, will the abstractions within nature also spark. So, without much ado, to begin appreciating the choreography of Renjith, allow me to explain that the most ordinary way of interpreting the opening lines that calls out the Goddess’s name would be to strike a few poses showing the imagery of the Goddess, as she resides in Kanchipuram. But, Renjith stepped aside from all the clichés. Afterall, where is the intelligence in telling something that is already existing in plain sight? Instead of treating the name and form verbatim, he chose to showcase the ideal demands of a mad devotee. Playing on the undercurrent of the words, ‘kama’ meaning desire and ‘akshi’ meaning eyes, Renjith puts forth a question to his audience on what would be the highest desire worthy to ask from this deity, who bestows boon? When I went to compliment him backstage, he shared why he took to this way of looking at the verse, “Goddess Kamakshi is the Universal love. I wanted to first convey that our gaze which is outwardly searching all the time cannot move inward without getting one glance of Hers. Secondly, I also intended to suggest to an audience that to know the true nature of our ‘self’, it is important to look into Her eyes.”
His interpretation on ‘Kamakshi’ is just bang on. Just one true experience of Hers will unveil the path of Beauty (kama) for us. It is a heightened path of cultural consciousness to which sages, kings, saints, poets and artists of this land have contributed. Afterall, one such experience of Her beauty by Shyama Shastri has resulted in this lilting composition.
En passant, the elements that draws Sarah and people like her to India and Indian culture reminded me of an Australian aboriginal wisdom called songlines. A spiritual idea, songlines are actually invisible lines; but, it pulsates, revealing the land’s story across space and time. It also tells how by tuning to a land’s songline one can be taken to faraway lands, to other songlines. Now, here is a thought to ponder on ‘Kamakshi’: if a songline is a call to our interconnectedness with Nature, then can this call be realised without first redefining our innate nature like our very own thirst and hunger?