february-2011

St. Joseph’s HospiceWhere Love is the Miracle

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VOLUME 2, ISSUE 15 February 2011

2 CONTENTS

Editor

Dr. Nandini Murali

Assisted by

Ezhil ElangoMedia Relations Officer

Coordinator

Joel Powel Abraham

Sivakasi Projects Abroad Pvt. Ltd.,

Reporter:

Vera Weidenbach

Designers:

Chiara PodbielskiChristine Grandy-DickStella Brikey

Contact:[email protected]

MADURAI MESSENGERNo. 17, T.P.K RoadPasumalaiMadurai – 625004Tamil NaduIndiaTel. 0452-2370269

Cover Picture:

Vera Weidenbach

ContentsFebruary 2011 | Issue No. 15

EDITOR’S CORNER

03 Taking the Bull by the HornsCOVER STORY

04 Love is the Language CULTURE

08 In the Name of Tradition ISSUES

12 Connecting Through Theatre BOOK REVIEW

14 A Quest for Sangri-La

3Madurai Messenger February 2011

In January every year, just a day after Pongal, Alanganallur, a sleepy village 16 kms, North West of Madurai, stomps with the sound of a thousand hooves. And the hiss of bovine snorts. At the annual Jallikattu festival, bulls from across the state stream into the village. This year, around 1500 bulls, trained specially for the martial sport that pits man versus animal in a gladiatorial contest of strength and might, congregated at Alanganallur.

The scent of bulls and dung cloaks Alanganallur. Bulls spray painted in the colours of the rainbow and decorated with confetti, with their curved scimitar-like horns sharpened to perfection gleam in the sunshine. The narrow barricaded streets are the thoroughfare through which the bulls are led to the gladiatorial arena. Rows and rows of tethered bulls held tightly by their attenders await the mandatory veterinary inspection that certifies that they are participation-worthy.

The veterinary inspection is part of the recently introduced rules in response to the petition filed by the Animal Welfare Board in 2008 seeking to ban the spectator sport on the grounds of cruelty to animals. The petition claimed that the bulls were subject to inhuman practices such as being fed on alcohol and fired with chilli powder to make them aggressive. It is a claim that has been hotly debated by animal activists seeking to ban the sport and pro-Jallikattu lobby that seeks to preserve the continuity of the sport as a cultural insignia of the Tamils.

A hush descends on the 50,000 spectators who throng the jallikattu arena. Perched precariously on rooftops and jostled about in specially erected enclosures, the place pulsates with anticipation. At 10 am, Alagar Nadar, the bull keeper, lets loose Muniayandi, the six-year-old Temple Bull of Alanganallur. Muniyandi has the distinction of kick starting the conclave of the bulls.

Around 1500 men clad in trademark blinding yellow T shirts (with their political sponsors emblazoned on them!) and black shorts are bold enough to challenge the might of the bulls and subdue them. To do so, is a visible and societally mandated sign of masculinities. It is a challenge that few men are unable to resist. For their eligible predecessors in earlier times, taming the bull confirmed their virility and made them highly sought after as a mat-rimonial candidate! The machismo of the all-male sport was impossible to miss.

A clutch of testosterone-charged contestants throng the narrow entrance of the Vadivasal through which the bulls emerge unthethered, in a volcanic burst of unbridled energy. The bulls burst into public view one by one. The master of ceremonies brandishes the lineage and ownership of the bulls as they crash onto centre stage. As the bull emerges from the mouth of the narrow opening, it cleaves its way through the men and bisected them across the field. A few short listed men charge after the bull in relentless pursuit. One of them ultimately manages to take the bull by the horns and triumphantly mount on the animal’s hump. The bulls then cantered along to freedom through the streets of Alanganallur and onto the wilderness beyond … It would take their keepers several days to find them.

For every victor, there are several contestants, and even spectators maimed, injured or even killed. The recently concluded Jallikattu is no exception. There are casualties, but the next year it is all forgotten. The old wounds have healed and there’s new crop of young men all ready to test their courage. It’s time for the bulls to run again, never mind the fact that culture and kindness to animals are the two horns of a dilemma that is unlikely to be resolved anytime soon.

Dr. Nandini MuraliEditor

Taking the Bull by the Horns

EDITOR’S CORNER

4 COVER STORY

“Love is the language”

Madurai Messenger is honoured to feature the inspirational work of Fr. R.V. Thomas Rathapillil, Founder, St. Joseph’s Hospice, Dindigul. Shunned by society, the hospice is a sanctuary for the destitute and dying—their last place of refuge. What is amazing, however, is that their lives are transformed, thanks to the ex-traordinary power of love—a language beyond barriers and boundaries. The lives of the 325 residents of the hospice are testimony to the miracle of love.

How can a place where at least one per-son dies every day in the cold season, be a place of hope and joy?

In St. Joseph’s Hospice in Dindigul dis-trict in Tamil Nadu, a one-hour drive away from Madurai, love and death share one home. It is a beautiful home, situated near the foothills of Sirumalai Hills. The sylvan surroundings include a big park with green trees, coconut plants and colourful bushes and flowers. The soothing surroundings are a balm for the patients of the institution. Not surprisingly, the people have hope on their faces. Most of them are branded by their past with injuries and fractures on their bodies. Some of them lost an arm or a leg during their inhuman lives on the streets.

These are the 325 patients of St. Jo-seph’s Hospice—most of whom will never leave the place again.

A Healing Touch“These people had only negative expe-riences in their lives; so at least at the end of it, they should experience some-thing different, that’s why we make this place as friendly as possible,” says Fr. R.V. Thomas Rathapillil, Founder, St. Joseph’s Hospice. His inspirational presence and vision is all too evident in his love and care towards the residents, and anchored in his strong belief in the Almighty.

Whenever he appears in a room or in the park of the hospice, he is surrounded by a crowd of old and weak women and men. They smile at him eager to receive

his blessings and warm words, of which he has plenty for everyone. He knows all their names and stories which mostly speak of unbelievable cruelty and suf-fering, caused by people around them and the ignorance of society.

The BeginningsFr. Thomas started the hospice four and a half years back in 2006, together with close friend Myrtle Watkins who died in the place in 2008 at the age of 92 years.They had worked together for 27 years, doing social projects in South Africa and all over the world.

“As we started it, there was nothing here, except some coconut trees,” ex-plains Fr. Thomas. Now the hospice provides space for its 325 residents and 22 members of the staff. The five acres of land contain a sprawling garden with fruit trees and a pen for 200 pigs whose meat is sold later on to provide a small income in addition to the hospice’s fi-nances, which depend solely on charity funds and individual donations.

The patients stay outside during day-time and move independently through the park and the garden. The park in-cludes a fish tank in the shape of Eng-

Vera WeidenbachMeerbusch, Germany

Healing Touch: Fr. Thomas comforts the patient

“These people had only negative experiences in their lives; so at least at the end of it, they should experience some-thing different, that’s why we make this place as friendly as possible.”


land which is one of Fr. Thomas special projects: “As I get most of the help from England and volunteers coming from there, I just want to say thank you with this” he explains. The plan is to lead the water through the park as a little stream and fill it with colorful fish. “Water is very relaxing and has a positive impact on people,” Fr. Thomas says in an en-thusiastic voice.

A Commonsensical Approach As all patients are given a bath twice a day, water is a precious resource for the hospice. Therefore used water is diverted to the plants or recycled in a big tank. Waste food from the kitchen is used to feed the pigs and the dung of the animals provides fuels for the kitchen. “We try not to waste anything,” Father Thomas explains.

As morbid as it may sound, with four deaths a week, the hospice’s burial system needs to be quite effective. It is based on the premise that the human body contains between 60-80 percent of water and decomposes very fast if given back to this medium. In one corner of the park, there is a big block of bitu-men, each divided into fifteen rooms which are twenty-five feet deep and again vertical divided into three boxes. The system does not require electricity or fire, but the base of the boxes is filled with water. When a person in the hospice passes away, he is wrapped in a white cloth and with a bunch of flowers. He is then

slid into one of the boxes which is once again sealed with bitumen. After three weeks, there will be only 12 percent of the body left in the water – bones which will be burned afterwards – the rest would decompose and the box can be used again.

During the burial, a mass is read by one of the three priests. Besides Fr. Thomas (60) there is Fr. Mathai (88) and Fr. R. George (85) who work in the hospice. Mass is also conducted twice daily, one in the morning for the staff and one in the evening for everyone. Fr. Thomas himself officiates the mass. Many residents attend it, even if they are not Christian.

“Ninety-five percent of the patients are Hindu, the other five percent are Mus-lim and Christian,” Fr. Thomas explains. “But it is a mass for all; religion is not important.”

According to Fr. Thomas, language is also not a barrier. He talks to an old woman from Sri Lanka who smiles after he touches her cheeks and her shoul-ders gently. “If you generally love them, what else do you want? Love is the lan-guage.”

A Feeling of Belonging The language of love has no barriers or boundaries. Even the mentally ill who live in the hospice among other patients, can understand this word-less language. They live fully integrated with the others and many of them, once they recover, even get to do small jobs in the hospice.

“This is the beauty of this place,” Fr. Thomas says joyfully and points to one man standing on a small ladder repaint-ing the old, red gates of one building with black color. “We make use of everyone; it is the best therapy they can have. It makes them feel needed and wanted here. ”One of the men working with the pigs shows his foot which looks severely malformed. The ankle is far too thin considering the size of the leg above and the crooked foot looks as if it has been broken several times.

“This is the trace of the chain, with which his family would tie him on a tree,” Fr. Thomas explains. “They would leave him there the whole day while go-ing to work. And in the evening when they came back, they would give him something to eat and tie him to the cot for the night.”

Most of the mentally ill come from the villages where they are totally rejected as the family simply don’t know how to cope with the illness or regards it as a curse. That’s why many mentally ill are just abandoned and left somewhere on the streets.

In the hospice, where they receive med-ication and special support, many of them can recover and “do tremendous work,” Fr. Thomas says and adds, “We have several instances like this.”

Hospice’s Burial System

Sanctuary: Patients resting at the Hospice

“If you generally love them, what else do you want? Love is the language.”

6 COVER STORY

Committed to a CauseAll of Fr. Thomas’ work is connected with the charity organisation Light for the Blind, based in Leeds, England. It provides more than 50 percent of the funds for St. Joseph’s Hospice every year which it receives from churches, schools, charitable trusts, and individ-ual donors. Fr. Thomas left India in 1989 to go to Eu-rope and became a priest of the Diocese of Leeds. He carried out projects all over Europe and lived in many different countries. But after a heart attack and a bypass surgery in the UK, his doctors recommended a warmer climate to live in. That is how the priest, who is origi-nally from Kochi in Kerala, came back to India to start his work for the dying and destitute.

Since the beginning of his work in 2006 until today, a lot has changed. People who know about the hospice’s work are willing to help and are more aware of the destitute and dying in their sur-roundings. Fr. Thomas and his staff do not need to drive around in the streets of Madurai and Dindigul anymore to search for them.

“We are getting a good bit of help from local people. Shopkeepers, bus drivers or taxi drivers phone us: ‘Father, there is someone in front of my shop,’ so we go and collect them”.

But there are new challenges and prob-lems as well. The funds from England have enormously reduced as Europe

struggles to recover from its financial crisis. That is why Fr. Thomas believes it is necessary to mobilise financial re-sources from people in India now.

“There are many people around spend-ing only a small amount of money, but this is good, because it means that they will continue to give it and that it comes from their hearts”.

A God by any NameWhat gives him the strength to get up every day to do his incredible job? Fr. Thomas only smiles knowingly.

“For me, my Christianity is a big strength,” he replies.But this does not contradict the fact that the majority of his patients are Hindus.

“I can pray comfortably to every god. For me, God is the same if he is called Jesus or Krishna or Mohammed. God is in these people. If you cannot see Him in these people, if you cannot worship Him in these people, your religion is false – this is deepest religion.”

St. Joseph’s hospice is saturated by this thought. You can feel that everyone is welcomed, no matter what race, caste or religion. Everyone is invited to the evening mass to commune with the one God who resides in all of them.

Maybe this is why people who come to live or to work in the hospice soon feel at home.

The staff of St. Joseph’s includes fifteen female nurses and seven male nurses as well as a frequent flow of volunteers from abroad doing social work in Din-digul district. Most of them are strongly connected to the institution. Some of the local staff are married women who spend their free time working in the hospice.

Saleth Mary (18), born in Dindigul, worked in the hospice for one year be-fore she joined the nursing school in Madurai six months back. But even though she doesn’t have as much time as before, she still spends one month during her holidays, working at the hos-pice.

“I enjoy the work here so much. Togeth-er we are like a big family,” she says with a smile. In the beginning, the work was an op-portunity to flee from the restricted possibilities for a girl from the village. It also gave her a new perspective on life and living. “Through my work as a nurse I learned something which gave

To serve with Love: Staff of St. Joseph’s Hospice

“For me, God is the same if he is called Jesus or Krish-na or Mohammed. God is in these people. If you cannot see Him in these people, if you cannot worship Him in these people, your religion is false – this is deepest re-ligion.”

me strength and independence. I do not feel so inferior anymore.”

A Loving EmbraceIf a patient in St. Joseph’s Hospice tells his or her story it is very touching and sure to move anyone. All of them ex-perienced human cruelty or ignorance which has brought them into the arms of Fr. Thomas.

One young woman with a pretty face and curly black hair shows the scar which starts from her neck and goes all the way down to her shoulders. She is a Muslim and her husband stabbed her with a big knife as he suspected her of being unfaithful to him. Instead of sup-porting her and bringing her to a hos-pital, she was abandoned by both sides of her families as they wanted to avoid adverse publicity. She was lying in the streets with a big slash on her back; one side of her body was fully paralysed.After treatment in St. Joseph’s Hos-pice, she can now move and sit upright again. But the wounds on the fabric of familial relationships are still gaping and sore and defy healing. The young woman stays in the hospice not know-ing where to go….

Kannapan, 58, does not know where to go either as he has lost his memory in an aircraft accident near Singapore in 1992. He cannot remember his family and where he used to live whereas de-tails of the accident and afterwards are very vivid. He stayed in a government hospital in Singapore for six months, in coma and suffering from a broken spi-nal cord. He was unable to work, but no hospital could keep him as a perma-nent in- patient. He has been living in the hospice for the past four and a half years. Today he is able to stand up and walk around again and undergoes ay-urvedic treatment at the hospice.

“I am very happy here”, he says and is also not anxious to find his family any more. “I have a good life, the people in the hospice are my family now and I also have a job”. He works as a hair dresser, cutting the patients’ hair and beards.

Together we can make a Difference Asked if he is afraid about the future and what happens to the hospice and its 325 patients after his lifetime, Fr.

Thomas beams his knowing smile again and leans back in his chair.

“Only God knows what will happen then, but I don’t worry about the fu-ture”, he says.It is the present he focuses on, together with his colleagues Fr. Mathai and Fr. R. George.

“I want schoolchildren to come here and show them the place, so that they will

go back with a message. My message to them is: ‘If three rickety old men like Fr. Mathai, Fr. George, and me, can make a difference to 300 people everyday, this should be an example for you. It should show you that everybody who doesn’t turn away from dying people in the streets can make a difference and that we can make a difference together.”


A voice from abroad

Dr. Cordelia Diet-rich is very happy as she holds the re-cently fixed instru-ment in her hands again. The sound of the wooden box re-sembles a harp but has around twenty strings and is in-tegral to Dietrich’s one-month work in St. Joseph’s Hos-pice. In collaboration with a German charity, the Ger-man Psychologist and Music thera-pist analyses the impact of music and its vibrations on people in constant pain. Her recent studies have shown incredible positive results. When she places the instrument on the patients’ bodies and plucks the strings, all of them, men or women state a loss of pain and a feeling of deep relaxation during the treat-ment.

But it is not only the results of her research which keeps Dietrich fascinated in the hospice. For her, the work in India shows a different way of contact be-tween staff and patients, and between patients and death, in contrast to her experience in German hospices.

“There is a very strong bond between all the people who live and work in the hospice”, she says. “This bond to a certain extend is certainly caused by reli-gion which gives people hope for a life after death, but also Fr. Thomas whose personality is very present and influences the people’s feelings.”

Contact and additional information:As the hospice depends on donations and volunteering work, help is always welcome. . You can contact Fr. Thomas who is always pleased to answer all questions:Ph: 91 93603 76678 / 99762 11721 Email: [email protected] Homepage from Light for the blind also provides considerable informa-tion about St. Joseph’s Hospice and the organisation’s other projects: www.lightfortheblind.org.uk

8 CULTURE

In the Name of Tradition

A couple of days before the famous annual jallikattu in Alanganallur, Vera Weiden-bach talked with Alagu Nadar, Alanganallur’s sole bull trainer and bull keeper, and his family about the tradition associated with the martial sport and the new de-velopments associated with it.

The bull Muthu Muniyandi majestically lies in the sun, in front of Azhagu Na-dar’s house in Alanganallur village, near Madurai. Muniyandi is the temple bull of Alanganallur. In the honour accorded to temple bulls, Muniyandi will inaugu-rate this year’s traditional Pongal sport, the Jallikattu. Muniyandi will be the first bull to enter the arena and thus flag off the event.

Azhagu is 64 years old and earns a living by weaving palm thatches used as roof-

ing material for mud houses. Since the age of 15 years, he has also been rearing bulls. As the keeper of the temple bull, he takes care of them and trains them for Jallikattu. He also leads the bull into the arena.

An Ancient Tradition Jallikattu, which is bull-baiting or bull fighting, is an ancient Tamilian tradi-tion called Eruthazhuvuthal, popular amongst warriors during the Tamil clas-sical period. According to legend, in olden days the game was used by wom-en to choose their husbands. Successful

“matadors” were chosen as grooms.The term Jallikattu comes from the term Salli Kaasu (coins) and Kattu (a package) tied to the horns of the bulls as the prize money. Later in the colonial period, this term changed to Jallikattu which is the term currently used. Usually the majes-tic Kangeyam bull is involved in this game, as they are naturally more fero-cious and muscular than any other of its species. It is interesting to note that there is a seal from the Indus Valley Ci-vilisation depicting the sport, currently preserved in the Delhi museum.


A Strong Bond: Alagar Nadar and Muniyandi


Man vs. Animal In Jallikattu the young men have to jump on the running bull and try to hold on to the hump of the wild animal as long as possible. The bull is “tamed” when a man is not thrown off over a pre-determined distance. For the spectacle in Alanganallur this year, 1500 bulls are enrolled from all over the state. For one day every year, the bulls are the star at-traction in Alanganallur! In his younger days, Azhagu partici-pated in the fights himself proving his strength to the others and trying to win the prices – dhoties and money – pro-vided by the owners. That was fifty years back and since then “many things have changed,” Azhagu explains.Nowadays the prizes are bigger and of higher value. There are DVD players and jewels or expensive clothes await-ing the winner. “The men have to be en-couraged to take part in the fights,” the old man admits.

An Endangered Sport? Currently there are changing percep-tions of the sport among the public. Until recently, bull owners forced the

bulls to drink alcohol and rubbed chilly powder in their eyes to make them more aggressive and uncontrollable. In 2008, the Animal Welfare Board filed a petition seeking to ban the sport on grounds of cruelty to animals. Besides they raised the issue of the danger to human lives as the bulls sometimes maimed or in-jured spectators. Two hundred people are reported to have died in the last twenty years during the Jallikattu cel-ebrations.

As a result of increased pressure from activists, the authorities concerned have introduced stringent rules in a bid to make the sport safer for both animal and man. These include mandatory vet-erinary inspection before the bull fight. Every owner has to pay a fee of Rs. 1600 for his bull and prove its identity with sixteen photographs. Before the bull enters the arena his body and brain are checked precisely by veterinarians.

Azhagu Nadar appreciates these changes but strongly objects to the move to ban bull fighting. For him, as for many others in the villages of Tamil Nadu, this would be a catastrophe. For

the people in the village, Jallikattu is an integral part of their society and culture.

“Of course we are worried about the men. But if they die, it is their bad luck. People can even die by walking down the streets and this would be their bad luck as well but nobody would com-plain,” Azhagu Nadar says in a con-vinced voice.

Even the women in Alanganallur who have no particular role in the fights as they cannot participate, strongly sup-port the tradition. “We feel involved in the tradition as a part of the village. It gives us a collective pride,” says Karthi-ka, Azhagu Nadar’s daughter. Her hus-band also participates in the bull fights and that makes her very proud. “The men in our village seem to have a natu-ral talent for it,” she says with a smile.

Over the years, there are many myths that have spawned around Jallikattu. Azhagu Nadar even remembers his grandfather’s days, when rich families chose the husband for their daughters with the help of Jallikattu – the stron-gest wins the bride! Karuppu, Azhagu

Taking the Bull by its horns

10 CULTURE

Nadar’s sixty-year-old sister recounts another one. She says, “If the bullfight can’t happen every year, our village will be haunted by epidemics and bad dis-eases. I swear that it’s true!”

A Strong Bond Azhagu Nadar acquired Muthu Muni-yandi six years ago, for Rs. 2400 when the bull was only six months old. Since then a strong relationship has evolved between them. Karuppu has spent a lot of time and money for the bull’s welfare. He and his family prepare coconuts, rice and other protein-rich food every day for him. The bull is bathed twice a week and his skin is scoured with rice flour. It costs approximately Rs. 50 a day to care for the main temple bull.

At first, Azhagu Nadar’s family was against keeping the animal. But for Azhagu it is “a thanksgiving to the deity who has blessed me with many children after being childless for many years,” he explains. He has three sons and two daughters.

The twenty-year-old Karthika is the one who takes care of Muthu Muniyandi when her father travels. The young woman with round, friendly face and strong body features never felt afraid of the bull. She grew up with the tradition of Jallikattu as her brothers attend the bullfights every year and she has known the bull since she was a child.

“I was naturally involved in this,” she says. The bull obeys her commands when she wants to clean his place; she

can calm him down when Azhagu is not around as he recognises her as a part of the fam-ily. “The bull is as grateful as a dog,” Karthika says with a smile.

Azhagu Nadar is the only one in the village who actu-ally can control the bull. This is hard to imagine when you consider his skinny body and the long scar on his belly. Muthu Muniyandi once injured Azh-agu Nadar badly during a training session. The strong bond between the bull and the owner is revealed only when you see him working with his bull who obeys his commands and allows him to touch his forehead. Nevertheless Karuppu thinks about selling his bull, after Pongal this year, as he does not feel strong enough to tame him anymore and take care for him everyday. The magnificent animal is now worth Rs 70,000 to 80,000.

Training a bull to participate in Jal-likattu is especially geared towards strengthening the muscles of his legs

and his neck. Therefore Azhagu Na-dar will take his bull to a nearby pond for a swim. Besides every day Muthu Muniyandi is made to smash his horns against sand bunds to sharpen them. As the bull shoves his head into it pow-erfully, the sand whirls in the air. One can imagine how strong this animal is and how easily it can crumple human bones!

A Macho SportMuthu Muniyandi has only been tamed once in a bullfight. When he enters the arena, in the tradition of Jallikattu, no man of his own village will fight against him. At least this year the tradition will come to life again and Azhagu is sure it will survive forever: “The government has already tried so much to ban our tradition, but they never succeeded and they never will.”

But what is it that makes the bull fight so fascinating? Azhagu smiles and says, “It is a crazy feeling and you get kind of addicted to it. It is veera villayattu (ma-cho sport) and simply a lot of fun.”


Taking the Bull by its Horns The foreigners’ section just above the bull fight arena in Alanganallur village, 16 km south west of Madurai, is so crowded that it is hard for me to breathe. No seat is left empty and even the so called civilised Europeans forget their good manners and surge ahead as soon as anybody stands up to leave !

The scent of bulls and dung cloaks Alanganallur. At the annual Jallikattu festival, bulls form across the state stream into Alanganallur. This year there were 1500 bulls registered for the event! There is a palpable tension all over the place, when the bullfighters – young men in the arena with the yellow t-shirts and black shorts—crowd around the entrance, waiting for the bull, as it rushes out of the door. They try to jump on it, catch its hump as soon as possible and hold on to it until the ranting animal reaches the end of the road. As the animal spins through the air, the red blooms that decorate its horns are scattered all around the arena.

The road is peopled by 6000 spectators, whistling and hooting for any young bullfighter who is brave and strong enough to tame a bull. Few manage to hold on to an animal longer than a few seconds, but if they do, they run back to the dais, where the organisers throw away prices – t-shirts or even medals and gold chains when a bull was fully tamed – into the impatient arms of the fighters. They take them home and show them around proudly as proof of the men’s courage and strength.

The audience’s enthusiasm is easily carried on to the foreigners’ section where people jump from their seats to have a better view to the events in the arena and clap their hands with verve after a good fight. There are loud whoos when a man gets kicked or is overturned by a bull. One man lies on the ground after the bull has passed him; he is holding his right leg which is probably broken. Nevertheless, nobody died during this year’s bull fights in Alanganallur – I was quite relieved when the newspaper the next day reported 60 injuries – although one person was killed in the jallikattu in Palamedu. I make my way through the crowd and leave the arena, happy to escape the claustrophobic confines.

After watching the jallikattu, even I, who had some reservations against this violent sport that is dangerous to both man and animal, was compelled to concede to the pull of tradition. Is the hold of tradition so strong that many still want to hold on to it despite the valid reasons seeking to ban the sport?

12 ISSUES

Connecting through TheatreVera Weidenbach meets theatre activist Prof. Ralph Yarrow from the UK and discovers that for him, theatre is all about connecting with people. Prof. Yarrow, who uses theatre to foster social change, was recently in Virudhunagar, where he facilitated a theatre workshop hosted by Blossom Trust

Screams, cries, laughter… a range of sounds emerges from the Day Spring Home, run by the NGO Blossom Trust in Sidhur, a village near Virudhunagar. A group of people march through the room, lie on the ground, and talk to each other animatedly. I am witnessing a training session for a theatre perfor-mance.

On the other side of the room, two men are sitting and watching the events carefully. They are Prof. Parasuram Ra-

mamoorthi, Madurai-based theatre ac-tivist; and Dr. Ralph Yarrow, Professor of Drama and Comparative Literature, University of East Anglia, Norwich, England. Dr Yarrow is a well known the-atre academic and practitioner based in UK. His major area of research is Indian theatre.

An Instrument of So-cial Change Dr Ramamoorthi and Dr Yarrow facili-tated a workshop for residents of Day Spring Home and other volunteers from Sidhur. They taught them basic theatre

skills to enact performances in villages in and around Madurai. The plays were instruments of social change. It sought to raise awareness of rural people on a range of social issues such as HIV/AIDS, TB, alcoholism, child labour, dow-ry, and empowerment of women. After every performance there is a discussion with the audience during which people pose questions, express their opinions or suggest other solutions for the prob-lem.

The recent performance of the Edu Clowns, the theatre group of Blossom


Two of Kind: Prof. Ramamoorthy and Dr. Ralph Yarrow


Trust which organises the performanc-es, deals with TB and the stigma and discrimination experienced by infected people in their environment. Even their families and close friends reject them. They are excluded from any social life because people simply don’t know how to treat TB or even regard it as heredi-tary.

For the past 25 years, Prof. Yarrow has been using theatre to deliver social and political messages in remote villages in India. His research focused on the relationship between consciousness and arts as well as on Indian and Asian forms of theatre in general. The three

books Indian Theatre, Im-provisation in Drama, and Sacred Theatre are the re-sults of this work. Yarrow wants to use theatre as “a kind of social action and for political work.” He does not refer to work for any po-litical party but to political work which begins before any political institution is even established.

Applied Theatre “Through theatre you can teach democracy,” he says in a self-assured voice and chuckles: “I call it applied theatre. ”Therefore he came to Sidhur in collaboration with Prof. Ram and Blossom Trust. Together they fight against their arch enemy—ignorance.

“We know the problem and we want to solve it,” T. Mercy Annapoori, Direc-tor, Blossom Trust, explains. The medium of theatre and

the universality it embodies gives it a wide ranging reach

and makes social messages accessible by dissolving barriers and boundaries.

Forging a Connection with People Yarrow started his work in West Bengal practicing “Theatre of the Oppressed”, a form of performance invented by the Latin-American Augusto Boal in the 1950s. The Centre for Theatre of the Op-pressed in West Bengal has achieved a lot and could be an example of how or-ganisations should collaborate with the locals. By developing plays directly with the villagers and highlighting social and political issues, the centre has become

a link between the villages and the gov-ernment. The relationship is so strong that people from the village even take action by themselves and suggest a topic for a play they want to talk about.

For Prof. Yarrow, this is a big success. “It is the most important to create this connection with the people to make them see that we can move something together.” The main challenge of his work is to “make good enough theatre,” Yarrow says, and adds, “We have to en-gage the audience with the topic, other-wise they won’t understand.” He wants people to get involved to their charac-ters and make them feel the message they have to deliver by themselves.

Of course there are also financial ques-tions. “The government funds in India mostly support traditional theatre and not small NGOs and their projects like Blossom Trust”, Yarrow says.

Nevertheless he is convinced that the-atre is a way to address social problems since he has seen the positive impact on people. Recently an international festival for theatre performances from the Theatre of the Oppressed in Kolkata was held in Kolkatta. Yarrow remem-bers how people from nations all over the world performed and how the audi-ence stood up to give their solutions to the problems portrayed in the plays.

“People really get involved, no matter if woman or man. I’ve seen Muslim wom-en from Iran going on stage.” The power unfolded by theatre is what keeps Yar-row working.

“I want to use the theatre to help people to develop live skills and to give them confidence.”

Theatre of the Oppressed • Established by Augusto Boal in the 1950s and 1960s• The main ideas: “Theatre is a language so it can be used to speak about all human concerns not limited to theatre itself.”There should be no monologue but a dialogue between actors and audienceEvery human being is able to play theatre to express its needs (“we all are theatre”)• Performance:A typical performance includes the main play which is no finished story and provides no solution. The audience has to give the solution. Therefore, the whole play will be enacted again and at any point, anybody from the audience can stop the play, step in and change the story to give it a proper ending.

Dr. Ralph Yarrow: A New vision for theatre

14 BOOK REVIEW

A Quest for Shangri-LaLimping to the Centre of the World is a book that can be read both literally and metaphorically. The author’s compelling narrative about his pilgrimage to Mount Kailash, is also an inspiration for each person to seek her own Shangri La, says Vera Weidenbach

Title: Limping to the Centre of the World Author: Timeri N Murari Publisher: Penguin India Price: Rs. 350

In his non-fictional story Limping to the Centre of the World Timeri N. Mu-rari tells the story of his pilgrimage to mount Kailash which some consider as the most sacred place on earth and home of lord Shiva. The author, who was born in Madras (now Chennai) in 1942, is not spiritual or religious. His journey, however, has a different pur-pose: his temporary son Bhima who was born with vesical extrophy (a congenital defect in which the bladder is bladder outside the body), undergoes major sur-gery. Therefore, Murari wants to plead for Shiva’s guidance and protection.

From the very beginning, the author has the “strange feeling that this journey to Mount Kailash has been destined” (p.14), as he can pass all obstacles before the trek; such as the improbability of being chosen by the Indian government for the pilgrimage or the strict medical tests to certify the pilgrim’s physical fitness. Murari has never trekked in his life before and is also affected by a for-mer knee accident. Therefore he knows that the journey will not be an easily accomplished task for him, but never-theless he decides to make his way to Mount Kailash.

As the story unfolds the author becomes more and more involved in the pilgrim-age. Even if he is never tempted to take part in the usual rituals and prayers to-gether with the other yatris (travellers), he develops a growing awareness of a certain power beyond the human world.

Yet Murari does not connect this to a particular god (even if he states to believe in Shiva after circumambulating Kailash), but rather to all his surroundings and Nature. His thoughts about spirituality are very interest-ing as they reveal another way of belief different and separate from religious boundaries.

The author also increasingly be-comes part of the community of the pilgrims: “My sense of self is gradually being eroded away (…), along with my comforts and my privacy, as I merge with the others to become a yatri” (p. 71). Murari never gets tired of analysing the other yatris who are all somehow eccentric and trying to find their personal Shangri-La. The title of the book indicates the author’s self-ironic tone which is evident which is evident throughout the book. It gives the narrative a refreshing touch. Murari describes the stresses and strains during the journey from the perspective of an ageing man. His re-marks on aching bones and breathing problems are surely understandable, as the trip includes a 200 km trek up the Lipu Lekh Pass at 5334 meters in the Himalayas to enter Tibet, the parikrama itself around Mount Kailash, for which the pilgrims need to climb the Dolma La Pass at 5550 meters surrounded only by snow and ice.

Through the pilgrimage, the reader also gets an insight into an otherwise keenly barred Tibet. From an objective point of view he describes the lives of the country’s suppressed people under the strong presence of the Chinese,

who increasingly intrude and influence the country with their culture and com-merce. “I sense that the Chinese don’t actually see the Tibetans; while the Ti-betans look through the Chinese as if they’re passing spirits in a nightmare” (p.173).

Limping to the Centre of the World takes one on an interesting journey be-tween reality and spirituality. The au-thor’s captivating narrative style makes you stay with him, even in the most inhospitable regions of the world. Be-sides providing interesting ancient and recent knowledge, the book is inspiring to everyone who is searching for one’s own beliefs – each person’s unique Shangri-La.


www.maduraimessenger.org Printed at Bell Printers Pvt. Ltd

www.projects-abroad.net

For Private Circulation Only

Sponsored by:Sponsored by:

For Private Circulation Only

www.maduraimessenger.org Printed at Bell Printers Pvt. Ltd

february-2011

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