Tonight I learnt helplessness

I love Delhi but I really hate it. This sounds like a contradiction. It is not.

Tonight Delhi shattered any illusions I had about the concept of safety. One of my brothers was beaten up outside a popular hangout in Delhi. In the heart of South Delhi, in one of my favorite areas,  Hauz Khas village, at a place called "Social." He stepped out with a beer. No one at "Social" stopped him, including the doorman. He walked outside and some bouncers started bellowing at him to leave his drink. Before he knew what was happening they were upon him, beating him with sticks. Before any of his friends could do anything he was on the floor being beaten. Not just that, they began egging on other bouncers from other places to come join them. Was he wrong in taking his drink out? Yes. Were their actions justified? Absolutely not.

 The management at the "Social" refused to step outside and the cops who turned up (obviously after he had already suffered injuries!) refused to step into the place. All in all there was no one to help, no one to turn to. We raved and ranted, complained and yelled and were guided to a nearby police station. He was hit on his head, his left eye was impacted and he was severely hurt on his leg. He suffered shock and trauma and other psychological impacts.

After spending four hours at the police station, we were made to realize the futility of it all. Firstly, even before we got to the police station there was a major discussion bout how all the women should go home since it was late at night. So we realized our status as liabilities, but we still went to the police station. It is sad that one has to think twice about such things, where one has to reconsider situations on account of being a woman.

So we went to the police station with eye witnesses, pictures and a lot of righteous rage. It should have been a simple thing. It was not. What shocked me was the attitude of the cops, the management at "Social," as well as that of the people who own the security company where the overzealous bouncers came from. The distinct note of casualness, the blatant arrogance, the sheer nonchalance were so jarring that they shook me. There was no trace of the bouncers who beat up an innocent guy and disappeared within seconds. If they thought they were doing their job, why did they run away? Did I mention the fact they had been drinking? That one of them acted inappropriately with one of the girls who entered the club?

But run they did. The cops did nothing to stop them. At the police station, we given several reassurances that were showing up in 15 minutes. After four hours there was no trace of them. Then we were told that they were inside. Unless the Sarojini Nagar police station boasts of an underground secret passage, no one saw them enter! The staff from "Social"and the security company kept making all kinds of excuses. The insipid "yes we know it's our fault but what can we do now" scenario.

But the biggest disappointment were the police. There was absolutely no willingness to help. I felt we were in a  Bollywood movie when I heard one of them say, "I am a government servant, don't tell me how to do my job." Then there was some talk of the bouncers being asked to go to AIIMS medical center to determine their alcohol level. We heard the cops speaking on the phone to the hospital staff to "please take care of it." That's when we realized that it was all a sham. They would not file our report. There was no sympathy from the cops, no responsibility taken by the staff or the security company.

All in all, it is an experience which is horrific in so many ways. The fact that we were thankful that they only found sticks to hit him with, because it could have been so much worse. The realization that  blatant injustice happens in this city everyday and you have no one to turn to. The fact that I am writing this, the fact that we were even able to go back & forth with the cops for several hours, the fact that we will not let this go, already puts us in a privileged category. We are educated people, who have access to resources and contacts and yet I have never felt a more profound sense of helplessness.

 Actually there was one more time... Another police station, another night in Delhi, many years ago. When a man kept touching my 14 yr old cousin for an entire hour in the PVR Saket movie theater. During intermission is when she finally told me and even though the management and cops were more supportive, nothing came out of it. The cops said being a minor, it may affect her reputation because who can say "how much" happened. It would only affect her adversely and so she begged to not file a report.

It was like an echo of that night when I realized that even if you are right, it doesn't matter. I heard that these bouncers had nothing to lose, that they would come after us if we pursued it, that it would be the most trouble for the victim.

Our lives are driven by fear, where it is easier to walk away than fight. Easier to avoid certain areas at certain times, than venture out and stand up for what it  right. Where parents will tell their children to not go out late, to avoid confrontations.

This is the Delhi that we live in.

Art That (Doesn't) Matter!

So I had to write this, after writing my last post. Because I truly believe in art that matters and in engaging with social issues. Rape, domestic violence and abuse are issues I feel really deeply about. I do feel a need to express these through dance, in the most sensitive manner that I can. But for me it is not even a choice, it is something I just cannot ignore as an artist.

At the same time I am really disturbed by people who use these issues to sell their work, win a competition or draw attention to themselves. There is this recent trend to use strong women characters and relevant social themes to appeal to a panel of judges, to draw some tears from an audience, or to add an edge to one's work to make it stand out. It makes me sad and angry because it is insensitive, counter-intuitive and in some ways making a mockery of things that need to be dealt with utmost sensitivity.

As much as I believe in art as a tool for social change, I am extremely wary of people who use social issues to sell their product. Let's not use rape to market our dances, draw on people's emotions to win a competition. Let's stay true to ourselves, our art and the very real issues that women face today.

I was in college in India when I created a piece which a renowned dance critic said was "too depressing." It was too real. Then I created a work with a few women artists for an Indian Contemporary company I danced with, but the director was more interested in using us for mere ornamentation while the boys would represent strength. Finally, I started created independent work where I could voice my thoughts. And I was fortunate to meet Mona Khan. Even though Mona Khan Company is a Bollywood Dance company and we do a lot of mainstream Bollywood, when I spoke to her about creating certain works, she understood the importance of the message. She said everything is not for the audience, we must also feed our souls, or something like that.

So I try, I fail. I try not to judge but I fail. I try to be ok with people inserting social themes to win a competition, but really I am not ok with it. But all I can do is stay true to myself and my vision. At the same time I had to write this. Because I know what it takes to break the silence, and I greatly admire the women who do, even if means breaking in the process.

Dancing "Tabaah"

Photographer: Rob Fadtke (ZoArt Photography)

Dancing "Tabaah" is hard. It is difficult to put your self in that place. That mental space. To fathom that sense of violation. To try and imagine and relive a fragment of what she must have felt, what any girl who has been through such an experience must feel.

"Tabaah" started with Nirbhaya, and the terrible incident that haunted Delhi in December 2012. The girl who was gang raped with a terrible violence, assaulted and then left to die. She finally succumbed to her injuries thirteen days later. But a lot of us could not forget her, could not get over the extreme horror of the incident.

"Tabaah" is but a weak reflection provoked by that incident. Amit (one of my best friends and dance partner) & I conceptualized "Tabaah" for the Mona Khan Company showcase. It started with a dance-based theatrical creation of a gang rape. I don't believe you can act this, you have to live it. We recreated this in the comfort of a studio. The boys who played the role of the predators are my friends who I am extremely comfortable with. Yet even in this protected environment, in this distant re-imagining, I felt that pain, that helplessness, that rage, that shame. I still feel afraid when they surround me, I feel violated when they touch me. I feel like I am nothing, less than nothing. And then Amit comes in, as my partner who tries to help me deal with it and I hate myself, I hate him, I don't want him to see my like this, I don't want him to touch me but somehow he soothes me. Not just in the story of the piece, he actually does...

Photographer: Rob Fadtke (ZoArt Photography)

We have performed "Tabaah" three times and we are to perform it another three times this March. It is a piece I connect with viscerally because I feel so strongly, so deeply, the horror of rape, the gross violation of a woman's space, her body, her being. And as I feel my heart beat faster on stage and the tears at the edge of my eyes, and rage storming in the center of my being, I can't help but feel that this is nothing, nothing at all... I think of Nirbhaya, I think of the nameless girls who just become a piece of news, and others who don't break the silence, whose stories are not even acknowledged.

As artists, it is our attempt to comment on and engage with society. Our attempt to give voice to those whose voices remain unheard. I know I want to say something, I want to scream it for all to hear, but what I say will never be enough, not nearly enough...

Ideas

An idea is really nothing. 

It is pre-embryo. Nameless, shapeless. 

It just sits there sweltering in your mind, plaguing your thoughts, wanting to come out in some perfect form, which you just cannot fathom. I have many such ideas, which crowd my head, jostle for space, wanting to be heard, to be expressed. Usually just the process of sifting these ideas leaves me exhausted. 

And yet when I feel like no thought is possible, another idea sneaks its way into my consciousness, softly mocking me...

Hello Writing!

I haven't written on this blog for like a year, maybe more...basically forever. I had many goals and slowly I lost track of them all. The truth is writing for me is making sense of chaos (Dechaosify...duh!) And it is whimsical, it is erratic, it is something I do when I want to do.

OK if I wasn't a dancer I would probably have been a writer. But since dance consumes me so completely, there is little of me left to write. But that little part has it's own ideas that must be expressed.

So hello writing. I am back again! Our liaison may be short-lived but intense, it will be!

littledancethings.tumblr.com

Stunning Underwater Photography

I was blown away by these beautiful pictures by photographer Howard Schatz. Dance photography in itself can be quite stunning but to shoot underwater gives it this surreal, dream-like quality.