My Lec-dem Adventures in Chennai with an Indian-American Kindergartner

Leaving Houston International airport with my preschooler, I had the usual mommy worries: Did I pack my son’s favorite DVD? Would the airline goof up on my “Asian vegetarian child meal” request? Will he stay home with grandparents so I could sneak out to attend kutcheris? But I need not have feared. Not only was my boy absolutely chamathu (roughly translated as obedient) on the flight, he was the best companion I could have asked for to enjoy the December music and dance season in Chennai.

Right after we landed, I bravely decided to take him to the lec-dem mela organized by Dr. Sunder of Music Forum and Sruti Foundation. It was a talk by Dr. Radha Bhaskar where she was sharing wonderful exemplars of manodharma (loosely translated as improvisation in performing arts) by stalwarts like MLV, MDR and Veenai Balachander. It turned out to be a very child-friendly setup with an informal atmosphere. I felt comfortable sitting cross-legged on the floor while my little one listened with rapt attention even while terribly jetlagged.

As luck would have it, children were not allowed next morning at the lec-dem at TAG Center by Kanniks Kannikeswaran on voices in Western music. So I reluctantly left the talk to go back to the comfort of the lec-dem mela where Dr. Gowri Ramnarayan gave a very personal, touching talk on Bhakti (devotional love) poetry. To my surprise, my son sat quietly through the entire session while making elaborate pictures of African buffalos with the Crayola color pencils that I had thankfully remembered to bring along. All was going perfectly well till the cell phone that I had borrowed from my dad started ringing in the middle of the lecture and I had no idea how to turn it off! This turned out to be the most embarrassing moment of our day – and not any tantrums from my tired son as I had feared.

The next lecture by Dr. Padma Subramaniam was the most memorable lec-dem moments of our December 2011 season experience. This gifted genius shared precious wisdom on manodharma in dance. As she was exquisitely enacting the sringara bhaava (feelings of sensuality) of a yearning nayika (heroine), her wireless microphone fell off her chest. But she remained unruffled, simply picking it up and turning that it into an imaginative mirror that she looked at as she decorated herself with jasmines, pearl necklaces, and sandalwood for her beloved.

Then once again the wretched microphone fell down! As the audience gasped wondering what happens next to this unanticipated intrusion, the dancer exhibited great presence of mind by using this moment to depict the frustration of the nayika (heroine) that her nayaka (hero) is not yet home. She started pretending to throw the necklace and ear-rings too on the floor (like the mike-now-mirror had fell), angrily undressing her silken clothes, and unbraiding her hair in disappointment. Watching this scene, my son laughed out aloud for a full minute.

Another Padma Subramaniam fan was born. But more broadly, a December music/dance season enthusiast had blossomed in my kindergartener! I understood then that my child was not simply a passive audience member but was actively engaged as a rasika (art enthusiast or fan). There was no looking back from then on. We just kept hopping from one kutcheri to another, one dance recital to the next, and one lec-dem to another. Now back in Texas, we are still reminiscing about our wonderful adventure together as he gets back to school and I go back to teaching my new semester.