Saturday, November 05, 2005

Story Tellers

Opposite my grandmother's house is an old Kali temple and a municipality park. The proximity of the two made her balcony the perfect vantage point to watch the festivities that happened during Navratri - specially the small time theatre troupes that enacted scenes from the Ramayan. There was nothing sophisticated about the performances but as a child I absolutely loved the over the top storytelling.

Listening to
Bil Lepp perform this evening as we sat under a tent sipping hot apple cider reminded me unaccountably of my grandma's house. It's about the same time of year. I am much older and a mother myself. Instead of many flickering earthen lamps dotting the neighborhood there were a few merry bonfires in the field where people roasted marshmallows.

Bil Lepp's stories were side-splittingly funny and had nothing in common with the histrionics of Ravana from the
Ram Lilas of my childhood. Worlds apart and yet there is a tie that binds. The nip in the air, the stars in the sky, listening to a story teller with a whole bunch of people and the flickering flames - that was enough to take me back home and to my childhood. J has seen one world and I eager for her to see the other.

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