At every moment in our lives, perhaps, we are to some extent actors, or performers, as well as spectators. When performers and spectators “connect” it creates a very special quality of theater that both transports and transforms all those involved. In India we cherish this strong link between reality and fantasy first through theatre and now through film. All this age old mimicry of life somehow affects us and in return this mimicry is in itself a self-definition of the society we live in. This is what I love about the medium that through a little imagination and snap of a finger we are somewhere else. Taking it a step further many forms of classical dance in India imbibes the same values of theatre mixing them till we get operaish dance put to music.

Yakshagana is one such dance opera I got the opportunity to see at KalaGhoda yesterday. The dance is usually described as folk but this theatre form from Karnataka, the Yakshagana or the song of the celestials has strong classical undertones. Hardly surprising because the dance was born from the Bhakti movement and was designed to bring classical dance beyond its then traditional elitist audience. As the dance unfolded at the Rampant row amphitheatre it raptured the much of the onlookers with its singing and drumming blended with dancing and the quaint endearing kannada dialogues from players, clad in striking costumes in myriad hues and sizes, provided for a very pleasant afternoon.

I was still curious and wanted to learn more may be exchange a conversation with the artists so I some how evaded the Kala Ghoda event staff and went back stage. This is what I saw - A corner clothesline overflows with hair switches, tassels, garlands and `jewels.’ The dim walls are agleam with bright headgear, chest and shoulder armour and the shelves packed with ornaments and anklets. The table is a mass of crushed and ironed costumes. There sat Rakshasha, or a man dressed as one, in front of pictures of an entire pantheon of gods praying; an antithesis if I ever saw one. Very soon I found myself sharing a chai with large men with painted faces and even larger pagades, (a type of head gear) talking about cricket before their next act began.