A sanctuary for seekers, storytellers, and souls yearning for deeper truths.
Antahkarana invites you on an inward journey — to listen to the voice within, experience stillness, engage in meaningful dialogue, and rediscover your true self through stories and storytelling.
This transformative weekend retreat offers a sacred space for self-discovery and renewal — guiding you to move beyond fears, doubts, and limiting patterns. Through deep listening, conscious movement, and creative expression, you’ll step outside your comfort zone and transcend the repetitive narratives you’ve been telling yourself.
With tools such as meditation, yoga, and therapeutic storytelling, you’ll begin to a deeper, more silent rhythm within.
Retreat Dates
January 23–25, 2026 (Friday to Sunday)
Fee:
₹10,000 per person
(Inclusive of twin-sharing accommodation and meals,Tea /Coffee from Jan 23rd, 2:00 PM to Jan 25th, 3:00 PM)
Book Review: Walking Out, Speaking up – Feminist Street Theatre in India by Deepti Priya Mehrotra
A book on theatre and dissent, Walking Out Speaking up – Feminist Street Theatre in India by Deepti Priya Mehrotra is a book which is at once academic and rooted in social reality. Walking Out Speaking up – Feminist Street Theatre in India is a book made of fragments, fragmented as our lives are by dowry and social lies. The fragments comprising this book are quotes from interviews, extracts from plays in Hindi and English, photo documentation, news excerpts, feminist activism as a lived experience etc.
The book is a study and a very very meticulous study of the methods and formulations of the street theatre in North India that started with a wish to stop dowry deaths and other crimes against women. Om Swaha is a play on a dowry death, made personal and immediate through the commitment and agency of the method of street theatre.
Ehsas, a feeling and a street play, can be sensed so clearly and evocatively through the means of this book. The book almost takes us through a video journey of brilliantly apt images that bring Ehsas to life.
Images stark and real, images of death and murder, images colourful and on the dangerous invocations of fire in India today that would have made our ancestors from the prehistoric era who discovered the many positive uses of fire shudder, images of that which can be understood and images of that which has to be explained – images of feminist street theatre in India.
Feminist street theatre in India is an important part of the woman’s movement in India. Delineating the structure of the same is this book, a ready manual of intense writing which is at once self-aware and socially conscious. Feminist Street Theatre in India is both a subject of deliberations and actions.
Feminist Street Theatre can be understood as a grassroots movement lead by scholars and academics – central to our understanding of how to respond and react to that which is the content of our daily newspapers.
Feminist Street Theatre in India is a collective and movement lead by the chance and often lifechanging meetings of actors, feminists, activists, directors, scriptwriters, theatre coordinators over the outrageous and enraging contents of daily news. News – short and impersonal, hardly evocative and image based but full of reality as we never want to know it forms the basis of feminist street theatre in India.
News and journalism if the backbone of a society and culture, then theatre especially feminist street theatre is its secret mystical kundalini or serpent power – magical and powerful at once.
Watch the news and experience its horror and discover solutions for the realities it photographs and who better to help in this than feminist street theatre – a magical portal of learning and democratic processes?
Fictional Myth in Continuation of African Creation Myths Club
The myth of the canon was not an old African myth. It can be traced to be the 19th century. It was told by a storyteller who lived under the Baobab tree with the African Rock Python. He said that the Rock Python had told the story to him. “Rock Pythons know of cannons and other things,” he said.
Because of street theatre, and related activism, which I got introduced to when I was 17-18, I didn’t follow the set career path I could have, like being in full-time teaching or journalism. I did not want to join set institutions.
Writing has been my mainstay in terms of meaningful work. I write in English and Hindi, and have written a number of books. In 2003 I wrote a book on single mothers – Home Truths: Stories of Single Mothers. These are narratives of women who have a child or children outside the structures of patriarchy – adoptive mothers, divorced women, widowed women, women who never married etc. The inspiration came for this from myself being a single mother — I brought up my daughter on my own, and the book came out of my own experience, because I needed to know such stories, to help me and other women also. There are these common beliefs that I wanted to challenge, such as ‘Divorce leads to broken homes.’ There’s a space that opens up – the freedom that comes from being single, taking the decisions. We are different, which need not be a problem.
I was able to interview many other single mothers in this research project. I had won a MacArthur Foundation grant to do this 2 year research project. The book was published by Penguin. I wrote the Hindi book also – Ekal Maa: Maut bhi tum se haari hai (Single Mothers—You triumph even over death).
My next book was on Nautanki – a folk theatre form, very popular in India for 100 years till the 1960s-70s. It was an operatic theatre form with music, dance, dialogue, stories, and initially done only by men. I wrote the book on Gulab Bai who was reputed to be the first woman actor in Nautanki. I did the book Gulab Bai: the queen of Nautanki Theatre. Gulab Bai was from the Bedia caste–a dalit caste. They were on the margins of respectable society, completely on the periphery. Gulab Bai was awarded the Padma Shri, for her singing. These women were actors, singers, directors, experts in everything they did. This book was also published by Penguin. It is a biography of Gulab Bai, as well as a social history of the Nautanki genre.
My third book was different – it was on Peace Activist Irom Sharmila. The story of her life and the story of Manipur. There have been women’s struggles in Manipur, as a part of anti-colonial struggles. These women’s wars of the 20th century were known as Nupilan – Nupi being the word for women in Manipuri. Well known for struggles, this is the community of women Irom Sharmila came from. She was protesting state extra-judicial killings by armed forces. Under the Armed Forces Special Powers Act, rapes and killings took place which were state-sponsored violence. In 2004, elderly women protested the rape of a 34 year old woman. The elderly women protested and disrobed in public, expressing their rage. In these contexts, Irom Sharmila was protesting. She went on a hunger strike, demanding the withdrawal of the Armed Forces Special Powers Act. Irom Sharmila was sent to jail and force-fed through a nasal tube. I met her both in jail and in the hospital. This is a book about Irom Sharmila and the Manipuri people’s struggle for peace. I have also written the book in Hindi and it has also been published.
I have written on Jaggi Devi, a Dalit freedom fighter who was born in 1918. I met her in the 1980s and she died in the 1990s.
I was also writing for magazines, journals and newspapers. Thereafter, I wrote a book called Her Stories: Indian Women down the ages – Thinkers, Writers, Rebels, Queens. Some of them are women we know while some are known only in their local areas. It covers a span of 3000 years. It is interesting to retell the stories of women, to write with historical authenticity without the limitations of biased historical writing.
I have also been a teacher. I completed a PhD in political science, a BA in Economics, and an MA in Philosophy, all from Delhi University. When I was around 40, I began teaching in Lady Shri Ram College in DU. Though I did not take it up full-time job, sometimes I had up to 18 classes a week. I taught in the Education department and the Journalism department. I provided Social Sciences inputs into these two departments, both of which are career focussed – education and journalism. I brought in my life experiences to connect with young people. I taught briefly in the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai. And in Dayalbagh Educational Institute, a university in Agra. There I designed several courses in the Social Science Faculty and taught across B.A., M.A and research scholars. It was a different cohort of students there, very different from Delhi or Mumbai. They all had to wear a staid white uniform, in college!
Apart from this, I took up a number of consultancies. I was a consultant on social issues for UN agencies, Action Aid, National Foundation of India, Aga Khan Foundation etc. This too was an interesting career for me. I went to remote parts of the country, to evaluate, document or advise them on projects.
Could you talk about the biases in history writing especially in writing women’s histories?
All the books I wrote were concerned with social organisation and patriarchy. All are concerned with gender. I grew up as a very quiet and frightened child. My own experiences and feelings, very personal, made me sensitive to biases in society. One has to have an eye for this. I could see an opening in street theatre. In the theatre workshops we would talk about our experiences – about sexual harassment, our mother’s pain, our overworked mothers. My mother would wake up at 3:00 every morning, to cook, then go to work. She was so creative, but she burnt herself out. I learnt storytelling from my mother.
When I look at books and search for women in history, women are just not there in the books. There are queens in books – but these queens were seldom in power. What we read about women in royal households, are daughters, wives and royal mothers. When we read these accounts we don’t see the agency and possibilities of women. The history writers often don’t know about these aspects of women’s lives and don’t mention important things, like the overwork. We talk in terms of ‘father of science’, ‘father of sociology’ – but women pioneers in the same areas were ignored. Women in history books are stereotyped nonentities. Androcentric biases exist in every discipline, and feminist scholars are countering this. The figure of women in history books must be made more full and perceptible with information about their identity, thoughts, public and personal life, strengths and frailties.
My joy has been to stand in the way of patriarchies, challenge their stereotypes, and to look and see the hidden aspects, the invisible histories, what has been happening with human beings, with society, all around. There have been so many voices in history and so many versions, histories and her-stories. Even very powerful women had to fight many different types of social systems. There were the Begums of Bhopal who were excellent administrators, and very concerned about girls’ education. The Buddhist nuns of the 6th century composed the first ever women’s poetry known in the world. The stories of these women are available in Buddhist literature, as little more than sketches. When I thought of this book – ‘Her Stories: Indian Women Down the Ages…’, it was to re-imagine women’s lives by standing in their shoes, as it were. In 56 short chapters, I retold stories of many women, each more interesting than the other. I wanted to write about women with their own voice and their own energy.
Even the women mystics revered in India – Andal, Karaikkal Ammaiyar, Meerbai… — their stories need to be brought to life through feminist perspectives. On Meerabai there is this familiar story that she merged with the idol of Krishna. But there’s also an another story, of how the king sent a group of Brahmins to drag her back to Chittorgarh, because she was bringing bad repute to the Rajput kingdom. She was to be carried forcefully, but instead of submitting to this fate, she chose to end her life, by walking into the sea. This story honours her resistance, her her agency. We can rewrite these stories, based on oral histories, fragments of documents, similar to stories we ourselves have seen, understood. We have to ask these questions of women in history – ‘What was her life like?’ ‘What was her story?’ ‘What did she want?’ ‘What did she do?’
There is so much to learn, beyond biases of gender, caste, class etc. Nangeli was a Dalit woman who cut off one breast as a form of protest, because she had to pay tribute to the upper castes, in Travancore. They would not let the Dalit women wear upper body clothing. News of her protest spread, and the rules finally had to change.
Could you talk about your work in Feminist Street Theatre?
The street theatre book I wanted to do since years, the motivation came from my involvement in feminist street theatre during 1980s-90s. Feminist street theatre involved – such a transformation, such an energy – I wanted to communicate the memory, the emotions, the solidarity and the joy of friendships.
The theatre was held in public spaces. We were women-predominant groups with performances of plays like Om Swaha. The plays were anti-dowry and anti-domestic violence. These were important plays. Street theatre performance was in streets, markets, parks, resettlement colonies, in colleges and homes. slum. Actors were across class, college students, working-class women, and we made friends – close friends.
Theatre workshops were the basis of creating most of the plays. There was a common political urgency, a need to communicate certain messages. The plays were collectively produced, sometimes there was no written script.
We were working on our fraught systems – working on how patriarchal institutions, like marriage, are moulded. Plays like Om Swaha expressed these concerns and more. We were fighting for certain ways of thinking. We were fighting for a freer life. We were doing all this in Ehsaas. This play showed gender socialisation, sexual harassment, household roles, all in a very familiar manner. We were a women students’ group. We were footloose, independent-minded young women, wearing colourful clothes, ordinary salwar-kurtas. Audiences asked questions during post-performance discussions, about social change, and a lot of ground was covered. We performed in many places in Delhi, Lucknow, Aligarh and in Bhopal at a big theatre festival. We were an involved group. We believed in the power of street theatre. We refused to accept unequal social systems and would talk about everything – difficult lives, personal choices, lack of respect for women.
Street theatre performances could be viewed by all. They were performed as forms of protest and agitation. It was agitprop without the propaganda (prop). It was quality theatre, with wonderful directors like Rati Bartholomew, Maya Rao, Anuradha Kapoor, Tripurari Sharma, Madhushree Dutta, Jyoti Mhapsekar. Actors were mostly amateurs. The whole essence of the women’s movement was enacted through street theatre. We just connected organically to each other as a part of the street theatre experience.
In Om Swaha Kanchan asks the audience, “What should I do?” She was being badly abused by her husband and in-laws. Should she continue to adjust, or should she leave? It was based on a real story. People in the audience said – Kanchan should leave rather than suffer and die. The play brought about a change in their mindset.
The movement faded after the 1990s due to many reasons. It is hard to find today feminist street theatre groups of that sort. It was then a women-led and women-predominant group. Women actors often find it difficult to continue, given their multiple responsibilities, at work, at home.
It was my keen desire to document feminist street theatre as it existed in India of the 80s. I wanted to write the histories of feminist street theatre, to answer questions like – “Why did the women create feminist street theatre?”, “Who were the women in feminist street theatre?”
If I had not been able to do the book, probably such a book would never have been written. In 2014, I started writing the book. It took time to get scripts, photos, conduct interviews, and get inputs of people involved in the plays. Half of the work involved sourcing the plays, reading, translating, selecting excerpts, doing interviews, making transcripts. The other half was writing, analysis, putting it all together. I was also working on other things. The book took ten years to complete.
Working on the street theatre built many types of skills – of speaking, listening, interacting with large audiences. People went on to work as teachers, lawyers, human rights activists, writers and journalists. There is a continuous teaching and learning in street theatre. We articulated feelings, issues, because we could do it collectively. It built us as individuals and we could continue to work in activism and education in many ways after the theatre.
The streets of India were not crowded with traffic then. We did plays in parks, outside police stations, at protests, in houses — courtyards (angans). There were many public venues where we performed. Later the streets changed, and also performances are banned in many public venues. There was globalisation, there was rise of social media — all that impacted the street theatre.
The project of the book was to hear and record different voices and campaigns that constituted feminist street theatre in India. The women’s movement was strong and there was a lot of street theatre by women, I have been able to cover some of it, in Delhi, Maharashtra, Bengal, Chhatisgarh, UP etc but of course not all of it. Plays took up issues of violence, also communal violence.
Street theatre is done in places where people congregate. We would go anywhere and perform, we would find the audiences. We would create a circle, and the audience would sit or stand all around. There was eye contact with the audience. We would just let people gather, and participate. There was no backstage, it was all very spontaneous.
It was all very focussed on bringing about change in the minds of the audience. So many possibilities arose. Sometimes the plays were done in small gatherings. The plays were very engaging with a lot of symbols and images. Plays were open-ended, with a lot of urgency and issues. The street theatre was full of the power of feminism. There was a great deal of singing, popular songs like – “Babul ki duayein leti jaa” as well as specially created songs.
Most people in the audience would stay and watch the whole play. Therein lay the power of this performance art form.
Could you talk about the possible revival of the feminist street theatre tradition?
It is hard to find street theatre now in the traffic filled streets of Delhi. But in UP, in Bundelkhand women’s groups still create and perform plays. In rural areas, street theatre of this kind remains a possibility. Vanangana, the women’s organisation in Bundelkhand, makes plays based on real events, like we did. It is a very powerful way of talking about and understanding issues, leading to participation and social change.
In urban areas, feminist street theatre can never come back to what it was – there is too much traffic, policing of areas, a clamping down on street performances and protests. All this means revival of that particular form of street theatre is not possible. But feminists are engaged in many experiments, in theatre, art, music, and cultural activism continues to be an important way to raise issues.
My career began when I started my masters in Cultural Studies. I did English Literature in my bachelors. Studying English literature was a launch into the questions of selfhood. When I was younger, I had read Hindu Philosophy. English Literature felt like it could be a way of enquiring into ourselves. There is a joy in studying the social sciences and humanities and focussing on culture.
The kinds of questions cultural studies answered didn’t satisfy me.
As I was doing my PhD, it occurred to me that cultural studies answered the how question (how things are done?) rather than the why question (why they occur in the first place?) I wanted the why question answered. Knowledge quests are in a very fundamental way asking about the why question. I started getting answer to the Why question through Hindu studies. I was studying Akka Mahadevi. I was studying an array of religious studies.
I read over 200 books in feminism. I do identify as a feminist. I have read a lot from the discipline of religious studies. In the United States, I did a lot of religious studies research. It is an interesting engagement. I love some scholars and don’t love some of them.
Could you talk about your reading?
The academic reading is read in order understand ideas, draw comparisons, etc. Culture Studies reading helps gain a different impression of history and culture. It is a different experience. Reading fiction is an altogether different experience. It allows to experience in images, in full colour and sensory details. I have read 200 odd novels. It has been a joyous experience. I have read English literature, Kannada and regional books in translation. Amit Chowdary is one of my favourite writers and ‘Strange and Sublime Address’ is one of my favourite books. I love the way he writes. Shashi Deshpande and Arundhati Roy are two of my favourite writers. The impulse to write a novel or a poem next follows me.
Could you talk about history writing from India?
Until 1970s, history writing in India was conducted bias free. Since the 1970s, very left leaning ideologies have taken over history writing in India. There are two very different things – one looks white and one looks black.
Could you talk about women’s history writing in India?
Women’s history in India can’t be understood unless we understand StreeDharma. In a Jain scripture we get glimpses of women performing rituals and yagnas. The Upanishads are known for the Brahmavadinis – independent women who are independent scholars. In the Upanishads we get small glimpses of how women lived. Who were the foreigners who altered us? Hindu warrior code was clear that you should not fight a woman. The warrior code of the other side seems barbaric now and they did fight women. Streedharma, which looks very regressive, was set up in these circumstances. Women are restricted to their home. Uma Bharati, Andal – the stories of these women give us a glimpse of lives of women in ancient India.
There are two tasks that hindered the history writing process in India – extreme tolerance for the project and extreme hatred for the project.
Hindu Dharma did offer women compensations. If women due to family commitments could not participate in spirituality – equalities and substitutes were offered. Hindu dharma did offer that. That is kind of feminist.
What about the unique place of Goddesses in Indian history?
Celebrating Goddesses in a country where women can’t still be what they want to be in society fully, is showing futility. Women in India should be like Goddesses in real life. We retain the ancient goddess tradition in India. We once had women who were brahmavadinis – that is the goal.
Could you talk about the Dus Mahavidyas in this context?
If you tap into these energies – you will never be disappointed. For me however, this is an academic endeavour and an active research process that gives the answers.
Could you talk about your research topic and Bhakti in particular?
Bhakti opened a way for women out of StreeDharma. To pursue knowledge is a bhakti search in medieval India. Wherever there were hostile external circumstances some women became bhaktas – living within and living detached. They lived in society but in a detached manner. Times can be very difficult in an unsafe society and society still feels unsafe. That needs to change.
Akka Mahadevi is addressing a deep quest within. As far as time immemorial in India there has been a quest for the self, a philosophical quest. She is a part of this ancient tradition. It has been there for men and women. The quest for the self within remains in India. The interesting this about Akka Mahadevi is that she does not deny StreeDharma and recommends it for women in general. Akka Mahadevi was a part of the Veerashaivaite movement. Her Ista devta was Shiva as Mallikarjuna. Veerashaivism had a tantric understanding of Shiva and Shakti. Here we can clearly see the connection between tantra and bhakti. Scholarship tends to look at literary aspects of bhakti writing without understanding their experiences.
Could you talk about how and in what form you encountered the stories of India?
My maternal grandfather used to tell stories at night during vacations. The school curriculum included stories in both Hindi and English. Starting from classes 2nd and 3rd, the English teacher would narrate stories to us. She would narrate it like a storytelling performance with voice modulation. I used to like listening to her so much. I used to read also – Cinderella, Rapunzel, Puss in the Boots. I especially liked folktales.
Could talk about how listening and stories as a child had influenced you?
Indic Stories influenced me tremendously, as also did stories like Snow White. They all had an imprint on me. In the 9th standard there was a speech from the Bhagvat Geeta, a speech given by Krishna to Arjuna before the war. The speech goes, “If you lose your mental composure, you will lose completely.” In my adult life, I always went back to this Bhagvat Geeta speech when I needed some clarification or guidance. I was deeply influenced by the Ramayana. Lord Rama is an obedient son, so I wanted to be obedient like him.
“In Celebration of Being Alive,” the Dr. Christiaan Barnard story taught me about the lesson of celebrating life.
They make me thoughtful and in my adult life, the stories I have heard as a child, have played on my subconscious mind.
The stories existed before there was writing on paper or TV. Indian stories are numerous. I watch the Ramayana every time there is new version.
What can children learn from our stories?
Much can be learnt from stories. There is a deep focus on family life in Indian stories. The Ramayana is all about standing for your blood.
How are Indian stories different from western ones?
The landscape is very different. Snow-white is played out on a vastly different climate zone. Cinderella too. The landscapes itself create a deep difference in the storytelling styles. Culture gets transferred through stories – any culture. If you look at Krishna stories – they advocate community living. In all Indic stories there is a great emphasis on community living.
In Indian stories you get a good sense of the grandeur of Indian lifestyles.
Any message on Indic stories?
In India, people take the stories as sacred and very seriously. They could just let stories be stories.
My background in education is a Masters in English Literature. Before that I did a Bachelors in Nutrition. Since 2000, I have been in the field of English Language Teaching. I have been teaching English in different schools. And I started using stories and storytelling for English Language Teaching. My background to storytelling is that I am trained in Bharatnatyam, Kuchipudi and in Rabinder Sangeet. I have worked in the All India Radio. I was a part of an oration club in Secunderabad. I learnt the flute and the violin. My parents put me in Chinmaya Mission at an early age and here I learnt to chant the Bhagvat Geeta. There was an environment and culture of stories, music and dance here. Formally I started telling stories to my students in 2000.
I grew up living in 13 states in the country. Everyone in my family speaks 4 to 5 languages, extended family included. I have had a multilingual and multicultural upbringing.
On your journey as a storyteller?
I loved telling stories. In 2000, as an English teacher I realised that narrating stories was very useful for schools and children. I had done stories before in the All India Radio. I had recorded Alice in Wonderland as a series there. But this was chosen by my boss. But in 2000, I chose to tell stories in the classroom because I thought it was beneficial. Children could relate to the stories better, be more enthusiastic about the language, talk in English and turn in homework. In 2005, I studied teaching English in the English and Foreign Languages University. I could connect the dots back. I could see what I was doing with storytelling in the classroom was working. And I could connect the dots forward. What I did at EFLU I could use as a teller and in the classroom.
Another milestone was, in 2010 I started singing songs in my stories. In 2011, I got a project for Dasaavatram for children of NRI. I sat with my Kuchipudi teacher and composed the story in English and also with Sanskrit and in other Indian languages. The performance included narrating the story with music and dance – a style I continued since then.
In 2017, I founded the Story Arts Foundation as a trust to work with the Government and NGOs. Starting 2016, I started travelling internationally for my work to do stories from the Indian culture and perform them for a global audience. My focus has been on stories found in the Indian culture.
Your favourite story?
This was one that my father told me. He was my first storyteller at home. He would often narrate the story of Yellaam Nanmaikku. There was King and he had a trusted minister and he would keep saying Yellaam Nanmaikku Yellaam Nanmaikku. The king would find this irritating some times to hear Yellaam Nanmaikku – everything was good. One day the King ate a lot of Brinjal and got a little ill. Physicians were called in. And still all the Minister could say was ‘Yellaam Nanmaikku’. The King was furious and threw the Minster in jail. Still all the Minister could say was ‘Yellaam Nanmaikku’. The next day the King and his troop went on a trip to the jungle. A thorn pierced the King’s hand and he ended up with a bandage. Meanwhile, without the minister, the King and his band got lost in the jungle. They reach a place where there are jungle dwellers who are going to make a sacrifice. The King realised he was going to be sacrificed. The drum rolls started for the sacrificial ceremony. But the sacrificers soon realised that the King was an imperfect sacrifice as his hand was bandaged. The king was released and he and his troop reach the palace safely and realised that Yellaam Nanmaikku, all was good. The King had his minster released. The Minster was still in a cheerful state of mind. The King asked how come the Minister said Yellaam Nanmaikku to being thrown in jail. The minster said, ‘They didn’t sacrifice you because your hand was bandaged but if I had joint the troop and they would seen I have no bandage and sacrificed me. The King agreed – Yellaam Nanmaikku.
I had heard this story from my father and narrated it frequently to my children. Once when I was disappointed with something my younger son said Yellaam Nanmaikku. So, the story came back to me. My father, me, my children and from my child to me – that’s how the story travelled.
Your favourite Indian story collection?
Stories from the folklore of India and our Itihasa Puranas. I feel deeply connected to stories of our land. It has something to do with my style of narration – which is very Indian. I like narrating stories from the Ramayana for children. For myself, i like reading the Upanishadic stories.
Any world geographies, whose stories you enjoy?
I enjoy listening to all narratives – Norwegian stories, African Stories, Australian Aboriginal stories. I find that stories from Africa have a lot of music and are extremely lyrical. They have a special quality of language and orality in them. When I had been invited by the University of South Africa to visit six schools in the municipality I realised that reciting African poetry was a part of the African culture and tradition. This was apparent as child after child recited African poetry in a particular manner. They have a tradition of oral poetry recitation. Even if you don’t understand the language, you will feel the power of the cadence.
How would describe your connection to storytelling?
Just like some people like cooking and specifically cooking for others. Storytelling for me is like that. I like to cook a story and share it with others. With storytelling, we sit down, share a story and listen to it together.
You use a lot of rare musical instruments in your narrations, could you talk about these?
I look for instruments whenever I travel. They are not new in my life. I started playing a palm sized piano when I was 10 years old. I learnt the flute for one year. I learnt musical instruments at Bal Vihar and Bal Vikas, the majeeram, harmonium, cynabal are all used in Indian bhajans. I have a very interesting musical collection. Many of my musical instruments are from distant and far off places. This bird made from clay is hollow inside. You have to fill this water inside. With the water, the bird will make a chirping sound. I got the Xutuli from Assam.
From the Haridasus, who are Harikatha performers in the state of Andra Pradesh, i got this musical instrument the Alandu. My friend came from Australia and was attending a Haridasu performance and got this for me from them. These are not available commercially in shops.
I got the Dapu from Malayasia, it is made from monitor lizard skin. I soundscape my stories. I am a storyteller and not a musician. While narrating stories my focus is on the storytelling not a musical or dance performance.
I used a rattle in the Banyan and the Sparrow story. Rattles are common for children and are available everywhere. My focus is in getting the right music for the storytelling. I have the damaru. It is played with the rope, not the hand or the stick. I got this Shaker from Pondicherry. It is made of dried seeds. All cultures have such musical instruments. I got cymbals from Dharmashala with typical Tibetan patterns embossed on them. From Bengal, I got the Duitara – which has two strings. Baul storytellers use this instrument. I got this from Baul singers when I was attending a children’s writing residency in Bholpur, Shantineketan. In Nepal I got a meditation bowl that has a nice resonance. In Kolkata, I got the ocean drum, which creates sounds of water. From Northeast Thailand, I got the flute. I was visiting a music department of University where I had been invited. The flute has to be rotated to create the sound – a sense of sadness or happiness depending on what you want for the story.
In the book Sapiens, Yuval Noah Harari notes that traditional civilizations spoke the language of stories and narratives and coded their knowledge in this form. He also notes that since the scientific revolution, the language of Sapiens has shifted to Mathematical Formule. All contemporary systems of knowledge use the language of mathematics. This story Musical Story on Chess by accomplished storyteller Deepa Kiran forms a bridge between these two systems – the language of stories and the language of mathematics. In Deepa Kiran’s expert narration, we are transported to the Kingdom of Raja Shorobatra. The King has no work or passtime except playing chess. He can’t be bothered with royal duties and remains settled in his chessgame. Meanwhile the inventor of Chess, a local sage resides in a gurukul. The King is informed of this and promptly meets the sage who invented Chess. But there is a twist to the tale and the video must be watched for this. But what we can see, perceive and learn from the ancient folktale is not just the complexities of mathematics and the perceptions on the game of chess and the games of maths as the very games of life. From the country that gave the world zero, comes this ancient maths story. Deepa Kiran’s unique presentation with dance, music, a host of musical instruments, songs including a famous one by Meera Bai take us to the roots of Indian culture – where in the serene, mantric culture of the seers we find profound investigations into the nature of the universe which can only be articulated in the form of mathematical riddles. A must watch for all culture, storytelling and mathematical enthusiasts.
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