Kabir

Earlier this month I attended the Kabir Festival in Mumbai. It has been going on for five years, Sachi has been involved as an organizer for some time. I have been recently been accelerating into planet Kabir. The seeds were planted many years ago when Prahaladji and Shabnam visited the Bay Area and they performed at Berkeley. Later the Sarvodaya Stanford group hosted Shabnamji and screened one of her films. At that time I was still distant from Kabir and what his poetry was all about.

More recently I got the Kabir Saamigri made by Reenaben and started appreciating the wisdom of the dohas. Then in Pune Sheetal told me about how Kabir became a voice during the Bhav Yatra and played and translated a few songs. She told me about Vipul who accompanied her on the Yatra, and just a couple weeks later I heard him and Shabnam perform a satsang in Ahmedabad that Nimo invited me to. I started listening to Vipul's music as well as more bhajans from the Samigri.

By the time I attended the festival this month my heart was open and excited for Kabir. The event has a great back-story. It started five years ago by the community of Kabir artists around India, anchored by the Kabir Project. It is this amazing loose network of singers, poets, performers and researchers, young and old, mainstream and traditional, all connected by the power of and love for Kabir. The festival grew in popularity and attracted patrons from around the world. A couple years ago it even had large corporate sponsors that wanted to take it to the next level. However the Kabir community decided that it wasn't in the spirit of Kabir to go commercial, so it went back to a grassroots, decentralized model. This year, it was completely put together by non-profits and individual volunteers.

The event was setup like the Kabir Olympics. For four days, performances were organized across Bombay in different venues. Mostly parks, public stages, and open amphitheaters. Different artists performed at various venues. Often performances happened simultaneously, so an incredible energy developed back-channel online as folks traded clips and quotes on What's App from the different performances.

On Thursday night Sachi took me and Aunty to the event in Jogeshwari. The first performance was by Ankit Chadha, who is a Kabir storyteller. With no props, Ankit just gets on stage and tells wisdom stories of and by Kabir. He is a pure performer, able to completely captivate the audience through his animated style. I didn't understand 75% of what he was saying, but I was just mesmerized by his presence and polished quality of his performance. I appreciated the high level of his art, even if I didn't understand it. One line I loved, which for me captures Kabir in a nutshell, was "Kabir sirf ek shaayar nahi, Kabir ek aashiq hai" ("Kabir isn't just a poet, he is a lover"). My favorite moment of the festival was during his performance. The event was in a working-class Hindu-Muslim mixed community. The show was on a stage that was literally on a busy roadside. It was a narrow lane lined with eclectic shops and food stalls and tons of traffic: cars, animals, people on bikes. It was a totally messy chaotic space, and carved out of nowhere rises this modern majestic stage. To the immediate left of the stage is a mosque; to the right is the beginning of the Hindu community. So we were literally right on the loud bustling border. Now imagine a completely packed crowd in front of this stage, on the side of this road, seated and behind them standing, hundreds of people huddled into a human amphitheater. And all are just transfixed on this storyteller in all-white Muslim garb kneeling simply and weaving tales with his bright hand gestures and booming projecting voice. In the middle of one of his stories the amzaan (Muslim prayer) starts from a nearby mosque. Ankit hears the chanting and just stops his story. He just sits, for nearly eight minutes, in silence, as the prayer completes. Meanwhile the entire crowd is pin drop silent, being held by Ankit's wide shining eyes. He's just up there rocking gently, calmly, waiting for the prayer to complete. No one says a word for the entire period, all you can hear is the honking traffic. Once the prayer ends someone from the crowd shouts to him, "You were talking about the two matkaas", reminding him where he left off the story. And off he goes, completely seamlessly. There are performers, and then there are artists. It takes an artist  with deep integrity to hold a crowd like that.

The next performance was by Neeraj Arya, who I later learned was one of Ravi's kids. I had no idea what I was about to hear, so when I started to listen to his "Kabir Rock", I was blown away. A guitar, mandolin, violin, and percussion. A braided skinny brown Raegae-looking dude, again with an incredible ability to captivate an audience based almost purely on eye contact and stage presence. At the beginning of their set there was some technical troubles with the sound, Neeraj puts his guitar down mid-song, walks into the crowd, listens with stillness for a few beats, and then goes over to the sound engineer and has him tune levels. All with poise, confidence, and calmness. The audience didn't flinch.



What I love about Kabir is that his message and poetry is highly relevant even hundreds of years later, so that young rock musicians can add their flavor to it and re-interpret it freshly. And so flexible, that someone like Prahaladji and someone like Neeraj can be part of the same community of musicians and respect each other's art. The next day I spent a couple hours watching Neeraj and Kabir Cafe videos on youtube, settling on my favorite song (above). I also learned about Neeraj's humble journey, sleeping on the streets during the first Kabir fest because he couldn't afford a place to stay, now featured on Dewarists and MTV. I'm the kind of music fan that needs to feel connected to the musician's journey to really get into the music; now that I'm a fan of Neeraj I can't wait to enjoy his music next time I catch him perform.

The next night we went to the Brahmakumari park performance. Yash and I got stuck in heavy traffic and caught the end of Prahaladji's performance, which was fine since I had seen him before. It was just enough stage-setting for the next performers, who gave probably the most moving live music performance of my life. This was Vedanth and Bhindu, two classically trained singers who collaborate on Kabir music. Together with a third singer Shruthi, they did an hour set that moved me to tears. Their voices were just too much for me, it was pure joy to hear their voices harmonize and soar. Hearing their music really opened up my heart, I was emotionally overwhelmed. After the performance I told Bhindu how I had no words, only tears. She seemed to understand and was appreciative. The next day I purchased their album, hoping that the songs they performed that night were in it (one of them was, though nothing like the live performance). I'm a bit hesitant to listen, their voices are so soulful and although I don't understand a damn word, the music seems to carry a power that I fear over-exposure to.

In any case, I am thankful for Kabir and look forward to attending the entire festival next year. Such a unique collection of such high-quality high-integrity performers making soul-touching music.

Words make you think. Music makes you feel. A song makes you feel a thought.



- E.Y. Harburg -

Mayur

(L-R): Dasarth, Neil, Mayur

Mayur is the Blue Stars' captain, and one of the team's best players. He has been on the team for over two years, anchoring the group of boys that come from Jamalpur. He has always had above average athletic ability, but over time he has also grown as a leader. I remember when we first gave him the title "captain", he thought it gave him a mandate to order people around and make fun of them, like he was the leader of a gang. I told him what it actually is about is taking care and getting the best out of every last player on your team, both on and off the field. It's about putting your own personal accolades and goals aside in deference to the team and your teammates. Since then he has really taken that up. He is the most vocal players on the field, and is one of the few players that has completely flipped the script from negative complaints to positive encouragement ("well done!", "good defense!") during play.

For the past couple years, Mayur has had a dream to play at Kahaani, the largest youth soccer club in Ahmedabad. Recently, he came to the coaches saying he had gotten the support of his parents to join Kahaani. They had committed to paying the registration to whatever extent they could. They wanted Mayur to excel at the sport he loved. We emphasized that the most important aspect was his commitment; he would be representing our entire program, so he should be ready to stick to it, including getting to every practice regularly and playing in every game. Mayur was determined. I spoke with Manishaben who runs Kahaani, she invited Mayur to their practice the following week for a try-out. The coaches would work with him and determine what team he would be best suited to play with. Mayur literally couldn't wait, it was something he had dreamed about for years.

I met Mayur at the practice from the office at 6pm. He had come from Jamalpur by bike with Dasrath, one of our big brother players. Mayur had asked Dasrath to accompany him that day since he wasn't 100% sure of the way. Although the ride would take an hour, Dasarth put his school reading aside and they left at 3pm because Mayur was so excited and wanted to make sure he wasn't late. They arrived at the field at 4:30pm and waited an hour and a half for practice to start. Just incredible passion and desire.

The first practice went well. The coaches asked Mayur to join the "open" team of 16-25 year olds so he would play to his actual age group. They would practice every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings at 6:30pm. Mayur would ride his bike the hour both ways for the practice. The first week of practice was a dream come true for Mayur. During the second practice he scored a goal during scrimmage. He was so thrilled, he told Rahulbhai who was over the moon and told everyone that Mayur's next stop is the Indian national team. During our next Sunday practice Mayur ran up to me and gave me a big hug and thank you. He had gotten along splendidly with the coaches and players, he felt totally accepted and part of the team. One of the players even told him that he would support his registration, even if his parents weren't able to.

Watching him practice that evening at Kahaani, I was so happy for him and proud that one of our players had taken their game to the next level. He may not make it all the way to the national team, but I would put his determination, heart, and love for the game up against anyone.