Talent Shows

Talent Shows

A local television channel in Chennai wanted to showcase local talent in singing , dance, music and martial arts. All the youngsters and oldies who were not good enough to make into movies (not Jackie  Chan or Priyanka Chopra) or serials were being filmed and then edited and projected.

The Silambam school in Vellore where I train decided to send a contingent. I went along with my swords and spears.

"It is good for the students. It will give them confidence. They have the district state and national level competitions coming up." said the master.

I nodded my head. I did feel that a televised program with "lights, camera, make-up" seemed to be a far cry from a hardcore martial arts and weapons competition where sticks flew in a fast and furious fashion everyone vied for gold.

On the way to Chennai, the students wanted breakfast.

"Eat only two iddlies", said the master "You have to perform."

"How can you bring us all this way and give us only iddlies?" protested one of the boys. The others joined the clamour.

"We are hungry."

"Okay eat what you want."

The kids ate parottas, puris, vadais and pongal. Energized by the high-calorie intake, they danced and sang the rest of the way to Chennai.

An exhausted bedraggled group arrived at the venue.

The stage was set up indoors with "lights, action camera."

At the trial run, a spear pierced the false ceiling and knocked off one of the lights. We were shifted outdoors into a football field. They set up the backdrops on the goal post. The sun was beating down unbearably so there was no need of lights. The makeup started coming off in streaks. There was no electricity so we had to perform without the usual melam music.

The kids lost their timing and coordination. After three backwards summersaults, one of the girls fainted and did not get up. She was carried off. After elevating her feet she recovered.

Another did rapid twisting movements with deer antlers and then quietly sank to the ground. She joined the disabled warriors on a bench.

"It is the puri and parotta, I told them not to eat it. Not to mention the dancing on the bus. "

Despite his hawk-eyed watch on the  rest of the troupe, one boy ate a quarter kilo of peanut barfi in the corner. He stepped forward and started twirling a coiled flexible sword called a sural. He lost the count (no music and all the barfi) the blade went flying (luckily no one was injured) and he quietly puked in a corner.

At this point, the sun was too much for the cameraman. He had no shade at all. We performed for 5 minutes and then sat under a tree. He had no respite. He slumped slowly to the ground.

The organizer came forward,

"This is not working. We will arrange the stage with a high ceiling and call you back another day."

We silently loaded our weapons into the bus and left.

http://velloretimes.blogspot.in/