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Bethlehem beneath the debris

December 24, 2023

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Altar at Holy Cross church, Kurla

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Meera

On Sunday evening I saw 'Meera' the dance drama staged by Sriram Bharatiya Kala Kendra for their annual Summer ballet festival in the capital (New Delhi). The swirl of skirts and the costumes of Rajasthan and Gujarat still inundates my senses. The superb performance of 'Meera' looking ever so erotic in her long Rossetti-like hair and white ghagra-choli exposing her taut midriff, made it easier to understand why the Rajputs so feared female sexuality amongst the clan. The early-16th century mystic poetess threw the royal house of Mewar - in which she was married into - in disarray, to pursue her devotion to Krishna. Marriage and the family did not bind her and as a local saying goes, for those who will listen, though she left behind neither a son nor disciples, her name lives on through her life-events: Nam rahega kam son / Suno sayane loye / Mira sut jayo nahin / Shishya na mudo koye. Of course, for the story from Meera's husband's point of view, one has simply

Chuddo

Goan Weddding Customs - Chuddo by Fr. Nascimento Mascarenhas As in other parts of Bardez, April-May is the month of feasts and weddings in Saligao. I will dwell to-day on the bangle-wearing ceremony among Christians and Hindus. The custom in olden times in Saligao demanded that the girl wear the best bangles possible from the usual bangle-seller in the native village known as " "Voar"(volar) or " Kankonkar" with a choice of her favourite colours. But a special bangle-wearing ceremony that is held only once in her life time for the bride is called CHUDDO. The bangle symbolises married life for the bride, as they are broken only on her dead husband's coffin. This " Chuddo" among some Saligao Christians consists of a set of fifteen glass bangles of green, brown and yellow colours on each wrist. These are specially in some villages of Bardez. In Moira it is 13 or 15 bangles and the colour is the same as in Saligao. Among others, the

Come sit by my side, Lydia

Come sit by my side Lydia, on the bank of the river Calmly let us watch it flow, and learn That life passes, and we are not holding hands. (Let us hold hands) Then let us reflect as grown-up children, that life Passes and does not stay, leaves nothing, never returns Goes to a sea far away, near to Fate itself, Further than the gods. Let us hold hands no more: why should we tire ourselves? For our pleasure, for our pain, we pass on like the river. 'Tis better to know how to pass on silently, With no great disquiet. With neither loves nor hates, nor passions raising their voice, Nor envies making the eye rove too restlessly, Nor cares, for if it knew care, the river would flow no less, Would still join the sea in the end. Let us love each other calmly, with the thought that we could, If we chose, freely kiss and caress and embrace, But that we do better to be seated side by side Hearing the river flow, and seeing it. Let us gather flowers, and do you take some and leave them In your

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