The Everlasting Bells
By Deshna Majmudar
Society has an innate tendency to preserve and treasure inanimate objects, which, in the eye of the preserver, evoke special memories and feelings. In my world, I am a part of that society. In a velvet lined box lie a pair of very old, precious bells, ornaments that are tied around a dancer's feet in the Indian dance form Bharatanatyam. In this 2000 year old dance form, the dancer is whole, yet divided. She is part storyteller, part musician, and part divine. She is powerful and graceful, and she must be attentive to the rhythm, yet lost in the music. She may be playing the divine forms of Bramha, Shiva and Vishnu, but she is as whole and beautiful as the body itself.
These intricate artistic qualities were once portrayed by my great-great grandmother, who was once an angelic dancer in the court of a local king in South India. These resonating sounds of bells were once heard over 100 years ago in a South Indian royal court, in the presence of a king, ministers, and at times delegates from local provinces and special visitors from various states throughout India. My great-great grandmother, with a face full of passion, determination and courage would walk nearly 10 miles to the palace and powerfully dance in the multiple forms of Hindu deities for the entire royal court, entrancing everyone around with the delicate yet powerful rhythms of the ornamental bells worn around her delicate feet and her captivating movements and expression.
To an outsider, these bells would be nothing more than an antique that deserves a spot in a cultural exhibit; however, the ornaments hold an invaluable place in my life, representative of the dancing legacy that has been in my family all these years.
There are an indefinite number of reasons as to why I have saved these ornaments. The frayed, torn rope ties in the velvet box often remind me of the rich culture of my heritage, a culture that is not a present as it is back in India. They transport me back to when I used to visit India with my family, with samosa booths cluttering the streets, the hustle and bustle of the beeping rickshaws, scooters and various animals. They continuously remind me of the ancient Sanskrit prayer that I would hear in the Hindu temples, prayers that I often dance to today.
Sherry Turkle's article, "What Makes an Object Evocative" expertly explains the different way in which people attach themselves to objects, and the effects of those deep attachments. One instance talks about Eden Medina, who owns a pair of ballet slippers and how "the social demands are embodied in her shoes," and how these slippers haunt Medina to conform to "the ideal dancer's body, conforming to the socially constructed conventions of ballet." I can personally relate to Medina's situation, but not for the negative and socially conforming reasons. On the days that I strap these bells around my own ankles and drive to dance class, I hope that somehow these bells magically transport an ancient power into my own feet and I begin to dance just as gracefully and powerfully as my grandmother did. I wholeheartedly hope that the multiple Hindu deities are all portrayed with the same amount of fervor and dedication as my grandmother portrayed them. I can relate to Eden Medina because of her want to embody the ideal nature and appearance of a ballerina: I myself wish to serve the ornamental bells justice, I wish to contain the exact same qualities and attributes that my grandmother contained so that her dancing spirit and memory can never waver. But most importantly, I want to have the same level of passion, dedication, and fierceness, not only in the dancing world, but in the competitive world. I want to go through my undergraduate years with the attributes that are embedded in the bells, and I wish to go through medical school and the rest of my years as a pediatrician with the same fierce and passionate attitude that once emanated from my great- great grandmother and the bells, somewhat Eden Medina, whose ballet slippers "communicate the shape of the body to which they want to belong."
The reasons may be many, but the feelings remain the same. What I have preserved for so many years usher in numerous sentiments: a nostalgic want to travel back to my country, a desire to become a graceful dancer and a successful person. The jingle and powerful rhythm of the bells still resonate in my head, and while my body dances to the rhythm, my mind dances to the bright future and numerous possibilities. While I continue to hope the resonant bells carry me forward to be the best Shiva, Bramha and Vishnu that I can be, I also hope that they inspire me through my everlasting journey.