Nature’s materials, knowledge systems and cultural outreach, The hand-made economy as cultural know-how

Introduction – our natural inheritance

The great rolling vistas of madhya Maharashtra are broken here and there by the rocky outcrops of the lesser Sahyadri ranges. In these lie enormous bowls, through whose lower reaches dry watercourses wind, with the craggy heights flickering every now and then with the passage of herds of goats and sheep in search of the sweeter grasses. Below them, following the easier contours, are villages and towns, some of which are of such antiquity that they are recorded in the Sahyadrikhanda of the Skandapurana.

Here, where the ‘ritus’ are known by whether they lighten the dryness or  deepen it, the sciences of soil had already reached a high pitch when Sant Dnyaneshwar composed his retelling of the Gita. The hardy kisans of this region classified their soils ‘kali’ or black, ‘pandhri’ or white, ‘kharam’ or salt, ‘burki’ or white salty and each of these picturesque divisions included local soils that were called light, heavy or sweet.

Until not very long ago, even in the early 1980s when I roamed the Sahyadri, sugarcane presses were built around two solid ‘babul’ wood cylinders, set upright close together. They were arranged with spiral screws so that when an ox turned one clockwise, it also turned the other counter-clockwise, and that was why in Marathi the cylinders were called ‘navra-navri’ (husband and wife, for they turned in opposite directions). The long, dark green stalks of sugarcane were fed in by hand, and the light brown juice that trickled out was boiled down into ‘gur’.

The sugarcane stalks did not then have to be cut into shorter lengths as was needed in the later, ‘improved’ motorised presses with iron cylinders, and this meant the cane fibres after pressing could be used for rope making. The pressed stalks were given to the ‘kumbhars’ (potters) of the villages, who prized the stalks for they would draw out the inner fibres, long and tough, and twist them into ropes which could stand constant immersion in water, for these special ropes were meant for the wells the potters drew their water from.

Not for the kumbhars any local pond with muddy water collected from the drippings of an irrigating water-wheel and into which thirsty cattle would barge. Their chosen wells brought up the water to mix their clays with, superior ‘jal’ for superior pots.

When the babul-wood navra-navris were no longer used, the potters no longer found their fibre, the ropes for the choice wells could no longer be twisted, the clay lost the special lustre imparted by the water, the kumbhars customers went elsewhere, and a material skill faded away.

Ecosystems, crafts knowledge, economy

This is the connection that ties together environment, landscape, water and the cultivation of crops, handicrafts that include both the aesthetic and the utilitarian, all of which extends far beyond what is usually thought of when we use the terms ‘handicrafts’, ‘hand weaves’ and ‘household industries’. It is a connection vital to the organisation and use of cultural soft power because it is so widespread (even if economically underplayed) and because when well organised it is quickly recognisable by many.

For cultural soft power to make use of this connection, there a few prerequisites:

* The ecological-ecosystems basis for crafts, weaves and household arts, with their associated knowledge streams, must be better understood and acknowledged.

* The space and place for a hand-made economy, and associated means of values (which are quite different from the formal and market economy), must be respected and acknowledged.

* When these two steps are firm enough, an instruction pedagogy to convey our practices and learning to neighbours, the region and farther away.

The range of materials which the handicrafts, hand weaves and rural household industry sector employs is as bewilderingly vast as it is fascinating. In north-central Uttar Pradesh, the old cane craft of Bareilly combined with the flute-making skills of Pilibhit so that today the bamboo of Barak valley in Assam furnishes the crafts families in these districts with raw material. The potters of Lucknow, Allahabad and Gorakhpur district get their clay from nearby fields and village ponds to make ‘malwa’ (container for ‘ubtan’, gram flour and oil required for body massages), and cooking vessels.

In eastern Uttar Pradesh, wild grasses such as ‘moonj’ and ‘rara’ grow in Allahabad, Bahraich and Gorakhpur districts. The grasses are coiled, a basketry technique which makes them durable and water-resistant. ‘Roti’ stored in these stay fresh for many hours, and small coiled baskets were the staple equipment for farmers going to mandis or families travelling by train and bus. In Jharkhand, bamboo grows abundantly and is used to fashion utility articles of all kinds, from combs to huge baskets for carrying fowl to the ubiquitous ‘soop’ or winnowing baskets. These are in great demand in the weekly haats in Ranchi district.

A set of ‘pattal’ or ‘patravali’, leaf bowls for prasadam, fashioned from sal or banyan leaves

In the 1951 Census, the first of independent India, among the list of industries and occupations according to which the working population was described were herdsmen and shepherds, bee-keepers, silkworm rearers, cultivators of lac, charcoal burners, collectors of cow dung, gatherers of sea weeds and water products, gur manufacture, toddy drawers, tailors and darners, potters and makers of earthenware, glass bangles and beads, basket makers.

Partial though it was compared with the dizzying range of vocations derived from nature’s materials and the use of an inherited stream of knowledge, this is a list that is likely to have helped the writers and planners of the Second Five Year Plan (1956-61) secure the “Government’s acceptance in principle of the Stores Purchase Committee’s recommendation that certain classes of stores should be reserved exclusively for purchase from village and small industries and that price differentials should be allowed to them over the products of large-scale industries”.

In the 1960s, what continued to be considered the mainstay of the economy by our rural and urban populations and by planners alike, was still large and diverse enough to routinely include wooden toys, palmyra fibre, stone and marble carving, lacquer work, lace and embroidery, bamboo articles, carpets and rugs, leather goods, glazed ceramic-ware, horn, gold and silverware, ivory, bidri, cane furniture, a multitude of types of bamboo work, artistic pottery, silpa and mat weaving, lac bangles, himroo, silver filigree, coloured stones, salimshahi and appashahi footwear, grass mat weaving, brocade, ornamental brassware, papier mache – examples from a very long list indeed. Until the change that liberalisation and globalisation brought in took wider hold, it is agriculture and crafts that formed the centre of a decentralised economy not necessarily related to any given level of technique or mode of operation, and which proved remarkably holistic.

The clash of materials

In the districts of India in which I have been able to witness, in and near villages, the ordinary commerce of small goods and articles, the two broad groups of materials in current use are visible. The far older group remains, but only just. The ‘jhadus’ or household and yard brooms, either feathery or stiff depending on what use it is put to, are bound together from grasses and reeds. Baskets and tokris are scarce, and are hardly visible in the weekly village haats. For long-term community grain storage, the ‘bhandaran’ structures which used to be marvels of construction – combining wood, cane, cowdung, treated clays and ‘bhasmas’ which varied by location and need – have probably disappeared entirely.

Common to every taluka and tehsil are the vendors of recycled plastic vessels and containers, visible from a distance across the fields because of the brightly coloured piles of articles they manage to strap to their bicycles as they travel between panchayats. Once hailed as the brokers of a distributed recycling industry that puts discarded and waste plastic to practical new uses, these enterprising salesmen are now distributing material whose degradation, piece by microscopic piece, enters wells, ponds and groundwater aquifers.

“Some of the most useful materials, synthetic polymers, also known as plastics, have

transformed our lives in the last few decades,” the publication, ‘Chemical and Petrochemical Statistics at a Glance – 2017’, explains. This annual compendium adds, “The driving force for this development was provided by the need for conservation of natural resources and energy efficiency and inherent advantages of the material which created possibilities of innovative designs and cost savings”.

Built heritage and knowledge heritage. Cowdung pats adorn the compound wall of the palace in Morvi, Gujarat.

It is possible that the Department of Chemicals and Petrochemicals of the Ministry of Chemicals and Fertilisers is not aware of the ecological economics of having substituted a object of utility made from natural materials, with one made from plastics. For then, its arguments of energy efficiency, inherent advantage and conservation would be found wanting. While such a view is still uncommon, the production of polymers in India has increased from 5.7 million tons in 2009-10 to 9.16 million tons in 2016-17, and their consumption has risen over the same period from 7.19 million tons to 12.7 million tons.

It is this clash of materials that is hindering the regaining of what used be automatic space for a hand-made economy. When that balance is regained, then the basis for India to take abroad, as soft power, a method and practice of economic stability, is laid, as the next section outlines.

The mechanisms are already available. There are the Prime Ministers Employment Guarantee Programme, and there is the Khadi and Village Industries Commission (KVIC) with its key programmes: Market Promotion Development Assistance, Scheme of Fund for Regeneration of Traditional Industries, and Khadi Reform and Development Programme. These already have a reach far and wide. According to the KVIC, in 2016-17 village industries (including khadi) recorded production (input costs) of Rs 41,100 crore and sales of Rs 49,900 crore.

These are very sizeable figures – consider that the National Health Mission works with a budget of about Rs 31,300 crore and the National Education Mission with one of Rs 29,500. Furthermore, under these programmes the recorded number of people who have been reached, enrolled on one or another, found the teaching and training for skills of their choice and aptitude, and who are making objects aesthetic or utilitarian or both, are 13,184,000. It indeed takes relatively tiny amounts to make such activity viable, for the KVIC found that margin money of only Rs 1,280 crore made almost 53,000 small projects thrive.

A new methodology to assess the incidence, scale and variety of craft activity  (with ‘craft’ including handicrafts, hand weaves – the entire fibre to fabric cycle, household and cottage industries – which serve local mandis as much as village needs with products from foodstuffs to agricultural implements) is needed. This will suggest that the most basic of the kinds of data we have on the sector must be revised and updated through new criteria.

What we have to describe the numeric size of the sector as we now know it dates to the mid-1990s, after the Office of the Development Commissioner (Handicrafts) asked the NCAER in 1993 to conduct an All India Census of Handicraft Artisans, and which has been thereafter used as a basis for updated enumeration by all kinds of agencies but without revisiting or revising criteria.

Method and practice as cultural outreach

The mahua tree, whose flower is popularly associated with the liquor distilled from it, is revered by tribals in Odisha, Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra and Rajasthan for its extraordinary properties. A pickle made from the flower is used to treat tuberculosis, the flower is eaten by women to as it makes breast milk more nutritious, and its bark when powdered treats respiratory ailments. In Gadchiroli, dried mahua flowers used to be stored by the Gond in baskets lined with leaves of the ‘kojam’ tree which prevents fungus infecting the flowers, for up to two years.

It is in this way that ‘craft’ – so elementally entwined with knowledge of nature, the forms that natural materials can take, the cultivation of species that are food and are medicine, and the cultural codes that govern the conservation of this diversity as well as its uses – becomes the basis for a practice and a method.

As part of the training and advice I have imparted on behalf of Unesco for its intangible cultural heritage convention to a number of countries in Asia, these and like examples have helped to quickly and easily make the connections between cultural practices and livelihoods. The frameworks of knowledge systems relating to societies’ use of natural resources tend to be similar in like ecosystems – whether semi-arid plateau, deciduous rainforest, coastal and deltaic – and that is why their economic and cultural reliance on these resources is also similar.

The first half of the 20th century produced detailed new appreciation of India’s ancient and close connections with South-East Asia

In Sri Lanka, Cambodia, Timor-Leste, Mongolia, Afghanistan, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Seychelles, Kazakhstan and Iran I have found that there is, amongst the practitioners of crafts and rural arts, a strong understanding of the correlation between what they do and why it is so essential in the slow, erratic journey towards sustainability. That is why these examples and others like them evoke a line of interested questioning: how can skills be better taught, how can crafts produce attract buyers without losing meaning and context, how can the efforts of the eldest knowledge bearers be supported, what can be done to find and retain the interests of the youth?

At the same time, they (together with administrators and officials from government whose departments are given the task of encouraging the practice and produce of local knowledge systems) tend to be bewildered by the theoretical complexity about sustainability which usually accompanies programmes and campaigns on ‘development’. These more often than not are delivered by agencies whose main focus is remain viable agencies, and are therefore interested in retaining ownership of a development framework instead of facilitating the revival of what has long existed, but which has suffered erosion.

Considerable conceptual work in this direction has been generated through inter-governmental effort, the more notable amongst them being in the areas of intangible cultural heritage (Unesco), traditional ecological knowledge (Convention on Biological Diversity), indigenous and local knowledge (Intergovernmental Panel on Biodiversity and Ecosystems Services), traditional and local knowledge (World Intellectual Property Organisation) and local knowledge systems (UN Framework Convention on Climate Change). Where these fall short is in joining the practical dots and showing how it is done.

A new development dimension

This is where our experience with craft (in the widest sense as described in the previous section), our diverse wealth of practical knowledge and the supporting scaffolding that government now has – livelihoods and incomes, the provision of credit, skills and certified learning, natural resources management – must become an active foreign policy and development cooperation resource.

Such an approach presents a set of familiar concepts and practices to show that a hand-made economy – as represented by the long-form meaning of ‘craft’ – is vital to fulfilling national and inter-governmental objectives pertaining to the sustainability of production and consumption, raising the level of resilience of settlements and communities (especially to respond to climate change), and strengthening self-reliance whether at the village or town ward level.

Chief among these objectives internationally are the UN Climate Convention’s Paris Agreement on Climate Change (2016), which has the full support of and participation by India, and which obliges countries that have ratified to undertake “supporting action” and to stand by the “nationally determined contributions” which they have submitted to the UN climate agency and also to “strengthen these efforts in the years ahead”.

And there are the 17 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) to which India is a signatory state party and of the 17, nine are connected with handicrafts, hand weaves and rural household industries. As the reporting frameworks required of countries for the SDGs becomes more stringent, they will help bring a spotlight on the externalities that organised and formal industrial processes have profited from, and likewise on the array of ecosystem services that the crafts and weaves, the arts and local manufactures, perform.

But more than as a means to meet international and regional obligations, a cultural outreach to the countries of nearer and farther Asia based on our own treatment of crafts and their associated knowledge systems, helps diversify the development dialogue. Just as the weather-wise kisans of madhya Maharashtra maintain their own encyclopaedia of soil types, and just as their counterparts in the Konkan record the onset and behaviour of 16 characteristics of rain through the monsoon, so too can the idea of ‘development’ benefit from the diversity of pathways that a hand-made economy quite naturally embraces.

This article is based on my contribution and presentation for the panel on crafts and arts, at the inaugural Conference on Soft Power, Centre for Soft Power of the India Foundation, held during December 17-19, 2018.

Source: Google Images (


The discussion on the convergence of Value based Democracy and Soft power was held at the Center for Soft Power on the 5th of March 2019. The discussants were Dr. Johannes Heinrich, Philosopher and Author from Germany and Mrs. Shobana Sharma, Research Scholar, University of Madras.

Dr. Johannes Heinrich’s speech was thought provoking and espoused an idea which had its genesis in the ancient texts of India. He gave a simple and lucid explanation from his point of argument. He described why democracy is in dire need of structural reform, and outlined a system that could help achieve this. When speaking of this system with regards to the Indian context, he said the following:

Because of the great variety of religions and strong religious life, in India it is more easily understood, at least theoretically(!), that state-law and religions must be separated, and that secularization means not at all vanishing of religion, as secularization often is often misinterpreted in the West, by confusing these two totally different meanings of the word. This misinterpretation is nearly impossible in India because of the vitality of religious thinking, even among intellectuals” he said.

During the discussion, the research scholar from Madras University Ms Shobana Sharma clarified the source of all profound Knowledge in the Indian context can be taken from the ancient texts. As it has the ability and tenacity to be amended and postulated to suit and adapt to the cultural environment prevailing at anytime.

This interaction was one of the many that the center will be holding in the coming months.


The Center for Soft Power hosted Valentina Ranzi from Italy and Catherine Emmerling-Garet from France, on 26/02/19 as part of a roundtable on Yoga at its office. The roundtable explored both their journeys from being first introduced to Yoga to now, when they have fully immersed themselves into the study and teaching of Yoga.

  1. How were you first introduced to Yoga?

Valentina recalled how she was first introduced to Yoga in 1980 through mediation. As a child she had looked towards art to find a deeper purpose and was able to come into contact with first meditation and then yoga. And in doing so she found that Yoga helped her understand herself better than anything else she had experienced in the west. She spoke of how she learnt Ayurveda and Yoga from an Indian family in Italy.

Catherine spoke of how she was first introduced to Yoga by her mother, who was a practitioner herself.  Her first introduction was when her mother took her to see BKS Iyengar when he was visiting Paris. However, it was only when she moved to New Zealand that she took her first course on Yoga.

  1. What aspects of Yoga drew you towards learning it? Was it merely the physical or was there any spiritual aspects which resonated with them?

Valentina noted that initially she was more immersed in the concept of Bhakti through her meditation. And it was through this meditation that she then discovered the physical aspect of Yoga. And recently with her trip to India and her increased study of Yoga, she has come to understand the spiritual aspects of Yoga.

Catherine described how she her first major exposure to India was studying about India at university, which then led her to studying Hinduism. And now since she has come to India, her spiritual path with respect to Yoga has taken on a completely new shape. She now devotes her time to studying the Vedas and other Indian texts.

  1. How is Yoga perceived in your home country? What are some of your experiences in teaching foreign students?

Valentina said that while Yoga is nowadays quite popular in Italy, it has historically been seen as ‘strange’.  However despite its popularity, much of Yoga in Italy is still focused specifically on the physical aspects, and ignores the other elements such as the spiritual and philosophical elements of Yoga. That being said, she noted that Pranayama is starting to gain more acceptance in the mainstream.

Catherine spoke of how in her experience it was those expats who came to study Yoga in India that were more open to exploring the depths of yoga, as opposed to foreign audiences abroad.

  1. In your experience do students eventually begin to delve into the spiritual aspects of Yoga after being initially introduced to only the physical aspects of it?

Valentina noted that in her experience not many students transcended into the learning of Yoga’s spiritual side, when compared to those who immerse themselves into the physical side of it. However, this is not to say that no students do not make the cross, such students exist but the number is small.

Catherine echoed similar sentiments, saying that Yoga forces one to look inward and in doing so people will be able to better understand themselves. However this does not often translate into students exploring the philosophical and spiritual elements of Yoga.


This article first appeared in Swarajya Magazine on 3rd March 2019.

Dimitrios Mavrokefalos is a visual designer from Greece, and the co-founder of the HangOut Naxos music festival that takes place in the Island of Naxos in Greece. He was first introduced to Bharaketanatyam three years ago, through Lida Shantala, Greece’s first officially recognised Bharatanatyam teacher, and has since immersed himself in the art form. Mavrokefalos is a student of dancing couple and Padma Bhushan winners V P Dhananjayan and Shantha Dhananjayan.

India Foundation’s Center for Soft Power was delighted to host Mavrokefalos at its office in Kotturpuram, Chennai, on 21 February 2019. V P Dhananjayan also joined in the interaction. The interactive discussion was on Mavrokefalos journey from Greece to India. The presentation expressed the inspiration he has derived from Indian culture and his travels to the country to study yoga, Bharatanatyam, mridangam and chanting.

Here are some excerpts of the interview with Pavitra Srinivasan, research fellow at the Center for Soft Power, India Foundation:

What attracted you towards Bharatanatyam, and how do you perceive it beyond physical movements and techniques?

It was my teacher, Lida Shantala — whom I first met in Athens — who encouraged me to start the practice of this dance form. Back then I did not know much about it. The more I followed her teachings, her movements and her expressions, the more I slowly but surely fell in love with it. The Puranic stories she narrated at various moments in her teachings felt magical and touched my heart. Following the roots of tradition of my teacher, I sought to follow her own teachers, the Dhananjayans. This is how my journey from Greece to India began.

What has inspired you about the teaching system of your gurus, the Dhananjayans?

The system is traditional; I spend more time with my fellow students, watch practice sessions and official performances. I have the opportunity to observe many details that I don’t get to see in Athens.

I am honoured to learn from the Dhananjayans, and to witness their teaching. It’s a sacred moment when Shantha akka is directing the movement of the students only with her eyes.

When I see some senior teachers, I appreciate deeply their approach to natya by the moves and the practice they give to the students. I find it hard to perform, but a treat to watch. I appreciate the complexity of the moves and the hard work through sheer repetition of the same element time and again, in order to perfect it.

How long has your training been, both in Greece and in Chennai?

Two years in Greece and four weeks in Chennai.

In Athens, I practise once a week for an hour, while here I practise daily for more than two-three hours. Apart from dance, I practise chanting, music and yoga, and the approach is more holistic towards the subject. They all complement each other in my training here in Bharata Kalanjali, while in Athens I pursue some of the above faculties in different schools.

What differences and similarities do you find between your city Athens and Chennai?

We both have grocery markets and good food! We don’t use chilies at all back in Athens, so it’s hard for me to appreciate chili in the food here. I love the different fruits, fresh guava and coconut from the trees, which I cannot find in my city. Driving here is the craziest experience I ever had; in Athens driving is more structured, and less chaotic. I am curious to know how it would be for a local if there were no horns to sound while driving! (laughs) Here I like to observe all these tiny stores where people work, whereas in my place the stores are bigger. While coal is still used for ironing here, electricity is mainly used there.

Food is less expensive here than in Greece and available almost everywhere! I like idli, masala dosa, samosa and chaat, as well as a good number of colourful sweets, which I normally don’t eat back in my country but indulge in here! (smiles)

Tell us about your trips to Delphi, the spiritual centre in Greece, and Auroville, a spiritual centre near Pondicherry (Puducherry).

This past summer I had the experience of documenting the ‘Dances For The Divine Mother’ workshop organised by Miriam Peretz, that took place in Delphi, Greece. Whenever I am there, the energy I feel is immense. You can see that in nature, in the many bees that fly around one flower and in the power of water that flows out of the rocks. In Auroville, I had the chance to witness beautiful architecture, a nice concept and an egg shaped rock that resembled Omphalos, a sacred ancient rock found in Delphi, believed to be the navel of the earth. In Auroville, I heard that on this egg-shaped rock, many representatives from different parts of the world had laid some mud for the inauguration ceremony. It was funny to observe this similarity that impressed upon my attention the moment I laid my eyes on it.

You seem to enjoy chanting, what does chanting evoke in you?

It evokes a feeling of lightness, when the mind slows down and stops thinking for a while. In the physical aspect, I feel areas of my body being activated depending on where the sound is being directed. After a good chanting session with other people, there is this change in the field that is felt by all and a kind of joy and ease of connection that comes along with it. I also have a sruti box at home, which is a very good companion and helps to guide my voice.

You are a co-organiser of the festival Hona that happens in the island of Naxos in Greece. How long is the festival and what do people get to see in that?

Hona is a four-day music festival that takes place in Naxos Island. It is the first of its kind in my country and I feel it is a blessing to be a part of it. It is a gathering of musicians from all over the world who share the same passion for expression through a musical instrument called Handpan. In this festival, we have a wide number of workshops taking place that explore the connection between sound and movement through art forms like music, instrument playing, dancing, yoga, tai chi and instrument creation.

As a visual artist, how does India inspire you?

Everything my eyes look at here ignites my spirits. From the look of the mother with a baby on her lap sitting inside a small temple shrine on the street, to the mad crazy drivers here moving in all directions swiftly, to the sounds of the crows and dogs, to the colourful hues of the morning sun and the fruits in the street carts, to the shouts and the gazing of pedestrians. All things here seem to be composed in a divine symphony.

What would you like to take back to Greece from Chennai and India?

Silence! In addition, good moments shared in Bharata Kalanjali with my fellow dance students and teachers. Impressions from beautiful Bharatanatyam performances I have watched and other observations from practice.

Who is your mridangam teacher, and how do you find it different from the drums you play?

Ramesh Babu sir is my mridangam teacher. I had a chance to hear him play while practising for a performance at Bharata Kalanjali. This instrument has a great subtlety in its tone system and one can hear very fine details while practising a whole range of different ‘fingering techniques’ on it. So it goes without saying that the moment I listened to it and identified the potential it offers, I wanted to explore it avidly. I would like to take some techniques from mridangam and introduce them to Handpan so that my playing will be more diverse.

Are there any music or dance styles that are codified in Greece like how Natya Shastra is codified here?

To my limited knowledge, there are some parts that are being practised there like polyphonic chanting or ancient drama theatre. But all these are separately practised. There is no unifying art form that brings all together as one unit like Bharatanatyam and Natya Shastra do. There are some schools of theatrical and dance art forms there, which I am not aware about.

What I can say for sure is that there is no such form as Bharatanatyam that I have witnessed coming out of the tradition of my country.

I feel there is a great depth of ancient Greek tradition that has only now started coming out intuitively from the present day generations. For this to develop, it needs a good study of ancient traditional texts and regional practices both of my country and other ancient cultures like that of India, to emerge and make an impact once again on the whole world. It is my belief that art is universal and what once existed in a place was also available elsewhere.

Carnatic music also seems to interest you so much. What draws you to it?

It has been five years since I started playing and practising music — percussive and flute.

But it was only in the last two years that I started experimenting with Indian music.

Having practised percussion for more than five years, I find Carnatic style of playing rather complex and interesting to explore. This whole system of thalamsand jathis that exist in both Bharatanatyam and mridangam enriches my understanding of rhythm and music to a great degree. So my hope is to continue to practise both these art forms and hopefully to expand my understanding of this ancient system of knowledge.

Some years of economic crisis must have been tough on Greece. How were the people able to overcome it?

At the beginning of 2008, it was a bit tough because there was a lot of bad news. So people were getting disappointed easily, but after a period of time, news started becoming obsolete and people started getting back in tune with their real nature, which is joy and laughter! Now if you walk the streets of Greece you might find it hard to identify any crisis in people there. The ancient Chinese saying goes “when there is crisis it is time for new opportunities and for something new to emerge”. So we try to stay open and see what comes.

Would you forget us when you return to Greece?

My experience here has been really strong in multiple layers! Only if I get Alzheimer’s, will there be a chance that I could forget it (laughs). What happens in your heart stays there forever. Therefore, I will never forget you all.

Pavithra Srinivasan is a Research Fellow at the Center for Soft Power, India Foundation