Ancient Creative Freedom
Freedom of expression from a time before time; esoteric beauty; on nordic noir & writing spots.
I am drawn to mythology. Much as it holds allegorical wisdom and learnings, its the stories that always grab me. Yet, today I look at a text from the dawn of time that espouses a value that is dear to much of today’s society.
Ancient Creative Freedom: Creative expression & free speech in an ancient text.
Friday Find: Beauty In The Making.
Sweater Detectives: On Nordic-noir.
Where Writers Write: Of bathtubs and cars.
With: Cats & fathers; another Game of Thrones promise; pickleball; mindful browsing.
1. Creative freedom from the ancients
Where an old text talks of creative expression & free speech.
The Vajra or thunderbolt is the weapon of Indra, lord of the devas or Indian gods. As lord of weather, rain, lightning and war, that was his special weapon, akin to Mjolnir, the hammer of Norse god Thor, or the (strangely unnamed) thunderbolt of Greek supremo Zeus.
But this is not a story of war.
The Jarjara is a banner staff of Indra. Not his primary weapon, nor well-known. It owes what place it has in Hindu storytelling because of a stage performance. A play that itself was by no means minor. Around it swirls a great ancient text, that contains within it what we might consider a ‘modern’ tenet- that of free expression.
Divine Entertainment
Gods can get bored. I get it- the world turns, humankind contrives its suffering and pleasure, and there is only so much interesting interference to be done. Entertainment must be had.
As this particular entertainment unfolded, the performance of the the ‘Asura Parajay’ or ‘defeat of the asuras’ began. Part of the great myth of Samudra Manthan or churning of the ocean, it was a depiction of Indra and the gods defeating the Asuras (enemies- and cousins- of the devas, and all round go-to baddies).
The asuras, also present, were less than pleased at how this was depicted.
Yet here we must pause, for this was no ordinary play. In fact it was the first such performance, a result of a deep meditation from the Creator himself. A time earlier, Indra and the gods had appealed to Brahma to create something that could be consumed by ‘all classes’ of beings, as opposed to the Vedas (sacred scriptures), which were available only to certain (learned) groups.
“We desire a mode of entertainment which is dṛśya-śravya – playful”, something approximating that.
“We want an object diversion, which must be audible as well as visible.”
Brahma went away and meditated upon a fifth Veda of sorts, shaping the Natyaveda. The ‘natya’ or drama thus created, Brahma passed it on to the sage Bharata. Brahma’s teachings formed the Natya Shastra, one of the earliest and some say most important ancient text of dramaturgy, its writing attributed to Bharata. It was compiled somewhere between 200 BCE and 200 CE (quite a window), likely attaining its current form between the 2nd century BCE and the 2nd century CE. Its 6000 verses have informed Indian performance traditions across the ages, both 'classical' and 'folk'.
Bharata was tasked with putting these fundamentals into practice, which brings us back to the controversial play. In choosing to showcase the great victory of the devas, Bharata might have been a tad tone-deaf, given the vanquished deva cousins were also present. Or, this might simply be a very ancient example of ‘history is written by the victors’. Incensed at the depiction they witnessed, the asuras used their magical powers to disrupt the performance, paralysing the actors, their speech and their memories.
Indra would have none of it. Enter his great staff, which smashed Messrs Asura & Co. into smithereens. Henceforth known as the ‘Jarjara’— the word itself means shattered, broken to pieces— the staff would become an auspicious symbol of dramatic performances.
Divine Learnings
In the aftermath, Brahma mandated the performance area always be protected. It was a space for the expression of natya. The divine architect constructed a playhouse, and various devas were assigned to guard different parts of it, but this was more than merely a statement of physical safeguarding.
The asuras? They remained unimpressed; how could they be expected to endure a humiliating depiction thus? “You are the progenitor, from whom we all have come- how can you ask for the creation of a drama that paints us in such a light?”, was the general tone of their complaint. The grand old creator spoke to them. You are hurt, I understand; view this drama with perspective, extract from art the lessons it gives, without taking them personally. All stories in the natya of our world will offer insight, be they about the devas or the asuras, or anything else.
There is more than epic cousin rivalry here, of course. In the familiar tension between creative expression and opposition lies a lesson on the sanctity of artistic endeavour. In an age where being offended sometimes seems a natural state of being, and venting it with verbal or physical violence is considered a right, it is heartening to see ancient thoughts advocating the protection of creative expression, always. There are increasing instances of this protection lacking in our world, with censorship either overt or insidious, often cloaked in a ‘cultural’ argument. But as we see, this freedom is not some ‘modern’ thinking from the last century or two, nor some belief exclusive to Western societies. Those who believe so, and see such values as being imported from foreign cultures, would do well to take a look here.
Now, whether the asuras also had the privilege of enacting their own version of events and showcasing their perspectives, or whether any such request of theirs was swatted away as ‘both-sideism’, I am not aware!
And that staff? The Jarjara is enshrined in the text as a sacred custodian.
‘The nāṭyācārya (master of the dramatic art) should offer pūjā to the Jarjara for attaining good success at the performance, and pray to it as follows,
“Thou art Indra’s weapon killing all the demons; thou hast been fashioned by all the gods, and thou art capable of destroying all the obstacles; bring victory to the king and defeat to his enemies, welfare to cows and Brahmins, and progress to dramatic undertakings”.
A custodian, clearly then, of not just artistic expression, but also bovine well-being.
Addendum.
A few years ago, Salman Rushdie spoke of the Natya Shastra in the context of the rising curtailments of such freedoms. The relevant bit of his speech, less than 2 minutes worth, here.
Elsewhere, I saw perspectives from the same text, that we should learn to ‘not read too much into art’. It seems to me that Brahma created drama because it would inherently contain wisdom in storytelling, a wisdom he would want all to imbibe through this more accessible form.
He pacified them saying that it’s just a play and sometimes the gods might win while at other times, the demons might win. He asked them not to take it personally. This clearly suggests that one should not read too much motive into the art. Ultimately, art should bring joy and serenity…. if we are really upset by it, we can always compose a parody in response.
Irrespective, the general theme continues; if one is upset (or ‘offended’,), feel free to find another way of expression (parody, satire, your own art) to express it, rather than condemn or unleash violence upon the upsetting creation.
Then, citing the Natyashastra’s latter parts:
In the final chapter, there is an episode where Bharata’s sons get conceited with their knowledge of drama and produce a cheap play that caricatured prominent seers and saints. The sages, upset by this, curse the sons of Bharata. The Gods intervene on their behalf and reduce the effect of the curse such that drama is saved, although the artistes remained cursed. This instructive episode suggests that in the name of artistic freedom, it is unwise to caricature people who are worthy of respect. Further, it is always the art that should be protected even if it is at the cost of a few artistes.
Sages taking offence is a very, very common occurrence in Hindu mythology. So this is not surprising, though the lesson suggested above is debatable, and I believe the said protection ought to be for both art, and artist.
In A Passage to Unfreedom, Girish Sahane uses this lesson from the Natya Shastra as a preface to his piece on the long-running curtailments in India, including those enshrined and abused in the Constitution.
India’s asuras, including those in the police, bureaucracy and political apparatus, having been gifted a weapon with which to stifle creativity and truth-telling, no longer needed invisible vighnas (spirits) to do the job for them. Almost anything could be construed as affecting the security of the state, threatening public order or contravening decency. Films, books, plays, and art exhibitions became frequent targets of group ire.
Links.
· Simple overview of the Natyashastra · Jarjara defintions · a translation of Ch 1 ·
Opinions: Freedom of expression in Hinduism · A Passage to Unfreedom · Freedom of Expression and it’s relevance in Dharma ·
2. Friday Find: Beauty Is In The Making
Something a tad esoteric today. Watch?
This piece for Nilaya Anthology is a journey through eclectic visuals, strung through by thoughtful reflections on beauty from the 20th century Indian philosopher Jiddu Krishnamurti.
Locales are dotted with artistic elements; there is symmetry, and asymmetry; oddities are strewn; a canvas painted; human, fabric, metal, wood, earth.
Filmed (at least) across Kashmir, Gujarat and Mumbai, it is the kind of piece that will inevitably draw scepticism around how ‘effective’ it is. Watching this, one might be moved, they’ll say- but we have absolutely no idea what ‘Nilaya Anthology’ is. A book? A product? A way of thinking? A clothing line?
Yet, we can’t know its ‘efficacy’ till we know more about its genesis, or how it was deployed. I share it primarily for its craft; a visual and narrative play that feels reflective, carelessly deliberate, occasionally experimental, sometimes obscure.
As a tangential aside, the style is also reminiscent of the contemplative montages and stylistic edits we see much of on IG reels. Reminiscent, not derivative. Please- not for a moment is that meant to belittle the fine craft here; it just makes me think of how visual creative culture bounces off now, across formats. Those kind of reels, dishing out philosophy in bite-sized audio-visual dollops, are less clever than they look, yet more hard to make than you might think. But they are born of constraints, whereas a piece like this is birthed from a creative vision almost without rein.
The director (Ayappa) and some of the team are the same crew behind last year’s stunning spot for Jindal Steel. Nilaya’s short might be inspired by the visual and narrative aesthetic in that; though that piece remains a masterpiece in craft.
So what is Nilaya Anthology, then?
“India’s newest design landmark”, this showroom in Mumbai is a “global luxury design destination with an Indian perspective. More than just a retail space, it signals a shift – one where Indian design, craft, and heritage are positioned at the centre of the global conversation.”
· Director: Ayappa · Production House: Early Man Film · Agency: Egodeath ; Mandovi Menon; Hriday Nagu · Art: Amrish Kondurkar ·
3. Sweater Detectives
Who likes a good murder-mystery? What about a slow burn detective show unpacked over weeks? And who likes a sumptuously dark tale with occasionally artistic light-leaks of hope? Hello, Scandi-noir fans.
Scandi-what you say?
Circa 2011, a show dropped into my consciousness. I’d say “burst”, except back then everything didn’t burst or explode onto the scene via rampant social media. Delivered via USB stick and the promise of bleak goodness, Broen/Bron blew my mind with its premise- a body found on a bridge, half in Sweden, half in Denmark- its confidently complex threads, and punch in the gut reveals. That was my first experience of what is variously called Nordic-noir, Scandi-noir or just ‘head-shakingly sombre and hapless crime stories that manage to confound and depress and satisfy, all together’.
You’ve surely seen one- there’s been plenty in the last 15 years or so (in this case we can legitimately say the genre has, ‘exploded’). TV shows across platforms and indeed across languages- where the location is a primary character, the crime is bizarre or stark, the investigator or duo is probably dysfunctional in some way, and plot threads reveal themselves slowly and endlessly…
If you still don’t get it, please read this piece on ‘Sweater Detectives’, where Slate attempts not only to (entertainingly) define the genre, but also list out some of the best such shows out there. Unfortunately, many are not on any service I currently have; and USB sticks are so 2012, darling.
PS- Broen or The Bridge was remade in multiple border-story markets, include the UK-France, Malaysia-Singapore and US-Mexico, plus a bunch others. But please- watch the original if you haven’t.
4. Where Writers Write
Do you think you might be inspired by the smell of rotten apples in your desk? Or work well in a room furnished only with objects made by hand? In the charming collection, ‘Where Writers Write’, we are taken through the location-based idiosyncrasies of many an author.
Agatha Christie created her plots in a large Victorian bathtub whilst munching on apples. George Bernard Shaw wrote in a writing hut he built in the garden of his home in Hertfordshire. The hut was built on a revolving mechanism, allowing Shaw to follow the sun throughout the day as he wrote.
“People bother me,” Shaw confessed, “I come here to hide from them.”
Masala Peanuts
(where I share stories or tidbits I find interesting).
Read: Haruki Murakami talks about an abandoned cat… and his explorations about his father. A very absorbing read.
**Know: “**I have to finish the books,” he said, “but I wish it would come faster." George R R Martin talks (again) about the next Game of Thrones book, a mere 13 years in the making…and counting.
Read: Pickle. Set. Go. In a packed sporting calendar, , the World Pickleball League sought to reimagine how an emerging sports could be crafted for a largely single-sport-loving nation. I wrote on it here.
Pause: Opera Air claims to be "the first browser built around the concept of mindfulness", helping users “manage stress, enhance focus, and maintain emotional clarity throughout their day.” Wow, that’s a lot of helping! Shaking things up, calmly.
Add To Queue
Hollow Talk by The Choir of Young Believers (the very memorably-used title track for The Bridge).
There is no wise maxim, no learning, no art or craft, no device, no action that is not found in the drama.
-Natya Shastra, Ch 1.
C&C takes a coffee break next week; see you soonly!