A woman smiles in anticipation at the Onam feast, the largest festival in the South Indian state of Kerala. The waiter is serving sambar, a thick gravy made of lentils, tamarind, coconut and vegetables.

The Onam feast, called sadya, is served on banana leaves on the floor and is eaten by hand, without utensils. The dishes are elaborate and there is a specific place for each vegetarian dish on the banana leaf. The waiters are volunteers from the community and they serve with a personal touch.

India is a cross-roads of many culinary systems that are largely unknown and inexperienced outside of their communities. “There’s a lot of interest in Indian food around the world and a lack of tools to make sense of it,” says Zilkia Janer, an expert in culinary systems.

A culinary system, says Janer, is more than ingredients, dishes or even chefs. It includes the ideas and way of life that give the food meaning. The lack of such knowledge prevents people from fully experiencing Indian food. Its served in New York or London as “ethnic” food, disconnected from the thinking and social life of the communities from which it originated.

A. R. Rahman’s Academy Award winning song Jai Ho is performed at the annual Onam festival in Mehrauli, Delhi.

Click to hear a clip of Jai Ho:

Kerala’s biggest festival is especially celebrated with gusto by the over 1,000 Malayalee immigrants living in Delhi’s suburb, Mehrauli. The Malayalee Diaspora left the green beauty of Kerala in the South to pursue career opportunities in the big city of Delhi in the North. The Onam festival strengthens community and identity.

The festival celebrates the harvest season and is based on a legendary king’s rule over Kerala in a time of peace. Onam is the joyful celebration of the annual return of the king in the form of a man dressed up like the mythic ruler. It is celebrated by Hindus, Christians and Muslims in harmony.

During the Onam festival, songs are sung, dances are danced, games are played and a special vegetarian meal is eaten off of banana leaves.

Click to hear Kerala singer K. J. Yesudas:

A traditional Onam song expresses the harmony experienced under the king’s legendary reign:

All the people had equality.
And people were joyful and merry;
They were all free from harm.
There was neither anxiety nor sickness,
Death of the children was never even heard of,
There were no lies,
There was neither theft nor deceit,
And no one was false in speech either.
Measures and weights were right;
No one cheated or wronged his neighbor.
When Maveli, our King, ruled the land,
All the people formed one casteless race.

A painting hangs on the wall of an art-framing store in my neighborhood. Its a print of a painting by H.L. Haldankar, titled “Glow of Hope”.

Haldankar, a famous Bombay artist, conceived the painting in 1945 with watercolors while his daughter Gita stood for three hours.

Haldankar painted Gita’s saree with subtle shades of color and highlighted her with a shadow on the wall. The candle behind her hand lights her face with a warm glow.

Today (2009) Gita is 90 years old and the mother of four daughters and a son.

The original portrait is exhibited in the Sri Jayachamarajendra Art Gallery at the Jaganmohan Palace in Mysore.

Rashmi Agarwal performs an evening of devotional music of bhajans and sufiana kalam.

Click to hear Agarwal sing:

Author of Indian art, culture and history, Pran Nevile, opened the evening with an introduction to devotional music in India.

The history of the arts in India is dominated by spiritual devotion, said Nevile. He illustrated this with video clips of devotional songs in Indian film from the last 50 years.

Karan Singh, son of the last ruler of Jammu and Kashmir, launched the Journal of Heritage Studies, produced by the Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage (INTACH).

Singh praised India’s heritage but warned that its cultural treasures are in danger. Folk songs and dances, dialects, ancient texts and environmental wealth will disappear if not preserved.

Singh wishes the energy protesters put into burning buses could be channeled into preserving India’s heritage instead. Students need to discover and care about their country’s cultural and ecological riches. INTACH’s new annual Journal of Heritage Studies raises the issues.

Gandhi gazes at Ambedkar during Asmita’s performance of Rajesh Kumar’s new play, Ambedkar aur Gandhi.

Ambedkar broke a glass ceiling as a dalit completing higher studies and designing the Indian Constitution. He fought the social discrimination of the Caste System.

Kumar’s play recreates the disagreement between Ambedkar and Gandhi on how to resolve the inequalities of the Caste System.

Ambedkar wanted a separate electorate and political identity for untouchables but Gandhi feared dividing society. Ambedkar was forced to drop his demand by Gandhi’s fast unto death, fearing retribution against untouchables if Gandhi died.

Gandhi referred to untouchables as Harijans (Children of God) but Ambedkar found the term condescending and meaningless.

Ambedkar criticized India’s political parties for not eliminating the caste system and for not uplifting untouchables to full equality.

At the end of the play, after Gandhi dies, Ambedkar concludes, “I had differences with Mr. Gandhi on socio-political issues but we were continuing to debate them. He left the debate forever and I’m sad about that.”

In a post-presentation discussion between audience and director, someone asked, “how many of the actors are dalits?.” “We have no dalits in our cast,” the director replied, “only human beings”. The audience applauded.

A sublime evening raga resonates from Sanjay Guha’s sitar at Delhi’s International Habitat Center. The audience was intimately small after a downpour of monsoon rain brought Delhi’s traffic to a crawl.

Sanjay Gupta is one of India’s leading sitar performers. He is a disciple of Ravi Shankar, the Ravi Shankar who popularized the sitar in the West after giving lessons to the Beatles’ George Harrison.

Click and listen to Ravi Shankar play the sitar:

One of India’s foremost art critics, Keshav Malik, introduces the Indian Contemporary Art Journal at its launch in the Art Eterne Gallery in Lado Sarai, Delhi.

Malik was the art critic for India’s national newspapers for 34 years, for the Hindustan Times and the Times of India.

Dr. Sarita Pathak Yajurvedi performs a khayal vocal recital. She heads a department of music at Delhi University and is a disciple of Sulochana Brahaspati of the Rampur Gharana tradition.

The word khayal means “thought” and comes from the Arabic word for “imagination”. The khayal vocal style draws from Persian and Indian influences. Its popularity began during the Mughal era in the 16th century and continues to today.

Click and listen to a sample of khayal singing:

The human voice is at the heart of hindustani classical music. Instruments used, like the sarangi, sitar, bansuri and sarod, are prized by how well they reflect vocal qualities.

Khayal is the most popular of all the vocal styles of hindustani music. In a khayal performance, a singer uses the lyrics of a brief song (bandish) and a set series of notes (raga) to express emotions with improvisation.

Here is an example of a bandish’s lyrics:

May the day and the hour be auspicious
May all efforts be crowned with success
May the learned and servant
Live one hundred years
May he prosper evermore

Soumitra Bandyopadhyay performed Rabindra Sangeet in Delhi. Click to listen:

Rabindra Sangeet are a collection of songs written by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941). The songs are treasured by Bengalis like Shakespeare’s works are by English speakers. They capture the emotions and voice of the people of Bengal.

Tagore reshaped Bengali literature and music. In 1913, he was the first Asian to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. Among other things, he was a poet, artist, playwright, novelist, educationist, social reformer, and composer.

Below is an English translation of a Rabindra Sangeet:

You came down from your throne
and stood at my cottage door.

I was singing all alone in a corner,
and the melody caught your ear.
You came down
and stood at my cottage door.

Masters are many in your hall,
and songs are sung there at all hours.
But the simple carol of this novice
struck at your love.

One plaintive little strain mingled
with the great music of the world,
and with a flower for a prize
you came down
and stopped at my cottage door.

Humayun (1508-1556) was the second Mughal ruler in India, following his father Babur.

With the help of Persia, Humayun’s kingdom grew to a million square kilometers, stretching across Afghanistan, Pakistan and North India.

A significant impact on India’s culture came from Humayun welcoming Persian art, architecture, language and literature into his kingdom. He recruited artists in his court and they developed the Mughal style of painting.

Humayun is best known for his tomb, which was built under his wife’s direction after Humayun’s death.

The tomb was designed by a father and his son from Herat, Afghanistan and it took eight years to build. It has a Persian garden style layout and is the predecessor to the Taj Mahal. It is the first of this type of Mughal architecture in India.

Three artists perform Kathak at the India Habitat Centre in Delhi: Richa Jain, Radhika Singh and Rachna Yadav. They are accompanied by musicians playing the sitar, tabla and harmonium.

Click to listen to the accompanying musicians:

Kathak is one of eight classical dances in India. It originated from story telling bards traveling from village to village in ancient India telling myths and moral tales while using music, dance and hand and facial gestures.

The classical form of Kathak dance today draws from influences ranging from story telling to religious devotion and the Persian influence on 16th century Mughal court life.

The word Kathak comes from the Sanskrit word for story.

Click the play button below to hear a clip of an actor playing the role of Shah Jahan in the drama Aurangzeb:

Shah Jahan (1592-1666) was the fifth Mughal ruler of India. His reign was the Golden Age of the Mughals, during which the empire grew to 9/10 of the size of modern India and Mughal art and architecture reached its peak. Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal as a tomb for his wife and India’s largest and best known mosque, the Jama Masjid.

A war of succession between Shah Jahan’s sons began after the ruler fell ill in 1657. The two main contenders were Aurangzeb and Dara. Aurangzeb interned his father in Agra and fought a successful campaign against his brother that ended in Dara’s execution. The drama Aurangzeb, written by Indira Parthasarathy, retells the story of this conflict for the Mughal throne.

Aurangzeb (1618-1707) was the last of the powerful Mughal rulers. He differed from his predecessors by enforcing a strict interpretation of Islam. He is known as the first ruler to impose Sharia Law on non-Muslim subjects and he discouraged the practice of Mughal art.

Much of Aurangzeb’s reign was dominated by warfare. His military expansion together with his religious intolerance resulted in rebellions from the Sikhs and the Marathas and restlessness from the Rajputs in his ranks.

After Aurangzeb’s death, the Mughal Empire rapidly declined. Within 100 years of his death, the Mughals had little influence beyond Delhi and the power of regional Indian princes grew.

The drama Arungzeb raises issues of what it means to be Indian in the face of ethnic, religious and linguistic diversity.

Click the play button to hear Chandana Majumdar sing:

Chandana Majumdar performed Sufi folk songs on the lawn of the India International Centre in Delhi during a showcase of Bengal’s musical heritage.

Majumdar sings Sufi songs from Bengali musicians called Bauls. Bauls composed devotional, mystical and philosophical songs that seek reality beyond the seen world. Their influences ranged from Sufi Islam to Hinduism and Buddhism. Lalon Fakir Shah was a famous Baul. Bauls deeply impacted Bengal’s rural folk culture.

The famous Bengali author Rabindranath Tagore was influenced by Bauls. He translated the following Baul verse into English in his book The Religion of Man. The quote highlights the mystic Sufi focus on celestial love:

Where shall I meet him, the Man of my Heart?
He is lost to me and I seek him wandering from land to land.

I am listless for that moonrise of beauty,
which is to light my life,
which I long to see in the fulness of vision
in gladness of heart.

The box-like instrument Majumdar plays is the harmonium, a pump-reed organ originating from 19th century France. It was brought to India by Europeans and adapted to Indian needs. The harmonium is commonly used in India for folk and devotional music.

Film producer Shyam Benegal (right) met for an interview with Anurag Kashyup (center).

Benegal’s films connect with real contexts in India. He roots his stories in credible places and times to address social themes. In contrast, the traditional Hindi movie offered an escape from reality.

In the following audio clip from the interview, Benegal expresses his concern that a connection to the real world around us become the grist for the mill of cinema. Click below to listen to the audio clip:

One of Benegal’s films, for example, showed oppression and empowerment among dairy farmers. It was funded by over 500,000 rural farmers donating two rupees each.

Benegal’s first four films were so realistic that they led critics to coin a new genre: India’s “parallel cinema”, or “middle cinema”. Benegal himself dislikes these terms as much as the word “Bollywood”, but they attest to the innovation he brought to Indian film.

In the interview, Benegal criticized the cinema of the previous generations for being disconnected from real life. He likewise expressed concern that the new generation of films in India focus almost completely on the wealthy urban context.

Films give a view of the world, Benegal said, and the majority of India that is not wealthy and urban has dropped off the screen.

Click the thumbnails below to see movie posters of two of Benegal’s recent films.

Sherwin grew up in the Caribbean Islands and is on his first visit to India with his wife Amy, who is of Indian heritage.

At first Sherwin was afraid that his name would sound foreign to Amy’s relatives in India, but to his surprise it connected with a mythological story of a son’s love for his parents.

Click on the play button below to listen to Sherwin’s story:

The story that Sherwin tells is of Shirvan Bhagat. The story is told by the Sufi leader, Hazrat Inyat Khan.

There once was a man named Shirvan Bhagat who was devoted to his aged parents. He was so devoted to them that he sacrificed all freedom and pleasure in life in their service.

The parents wished they had once in their lives made a pilgrimage to Kashi. Their worthy son made baskets with which he lifted them on his back, and they set out on a journey of thousands of miles across forests, mountains and rivers.

Shirvan had traveled for months when a misfortune happened. He set down his baskets and went to fetch water. When he drew near to the river he was struck by the arrow of Raja Dasheratha, who had aimed at a deer and by accident hit him.

Hearing the deep sigh of a man the Raja went to him and was grieved beyond expression. He said, ‘Is there anything that I can do for you?’ Shirvan said, ‘I am dying. I have only one desire, and that is to give my parents this water; they are thirsty in the heat of the sun. If you wish to do anything more then look after them and see that they are carried to Kashi.’

The Raja went, bearing water, and gave it to the old parents without saying a word to them. He feared they might not drink it if they heared the voice of a stranger. The parents said, ‘O worthy son, all our life we have never seen you vexed; this is the first time that you have handed us the bowl of water without your loving word which always gives us new life.’

Raja Dasheratha burst into tears, and told them of the death of their son. They, hearing this, could not live to drink the water. They lived only on the love of their son. Each of them heaved a deep sigh, ‘O, our beloved Shirvan’, and passed away.

This story has since become a tradition in India, and there are followers of this tradition who carry baskets on their shoulders and travel about, teaching the virtue of devotion and service to parents.

Little is written about how women in Hindu communities transmit religious knowledge to their children.

Ever since the ancient Hindu scriptures were interpreted in texts like The Laws of Manu over 3,000 years ago, the role of women in formal religious education has been minimal–whether as teachers, students or even readers of scriptures.

Anthropologist Colleen Yim spent two years observing and talking with women in an urban setting near my home to answer the question: how do women transmit religious knowledge if they have little access to formal religious education?

Yim discovered that women in fact are the major transmitters of religious knowledge, and that this knowledge is taught and learned informally through the rituals of daily life.

Yim details her findings in her book, Veiled Gurus: A Hindu Mother’s Experiential Involvement in Religious Knowledge Transmission. She describes the learning that happens when children experience their mothers and grandmothers telling stories, singing songs, dancing, burning incense, drawing designs, using images, bowing down, giving sweets, and purifying with water to fulfill their religious obligations.

Yim concludes that as the primary caregivers of children in the home, women are the main transmitters of religious knowledge, but that this knowledge is more experiential than academic. Her book is an argument for the power of informal, experiential learning.

I visited a wedding in a Sikh temple.

The bride and groom stand with their parents to receive the prayer of blessing. The groom holds the ceremonial sword, called the kirpan.

The Sikh temple overlooks the Yamuna River where a legend says that a 15th century Muslim hermit lived.

Longing for a glimpse of God, the hermit used to row people across the river free of charge. According to the legend, Guru Nanak visited the hermit and blessed him, bringing enlightenment to him.

The temple was built to commemorate the hermit’s love for God and Guru Nanak’s blessing.

A man delivers carpets by motorcycle in Mirzapur District along the Ganges river, where carpet export dominates the local economy.

The Indian tradition of carpet making grew during the Mughal Empire in the 16th Century. Craftsmen adopted Persian techniques and designs to produce fine carpets for their Mughal lords, like Shah Jahan.

The Hindu told how the carpet trade came to Mirzapur District: In 1790, a caravan of Persian carpet weavers, on their way to the Mughal court, was waylaid and injured by bandits. When they were rescued by local villages their master weaver, Sheikh Madarullah, decided to settle in Mirzapur and teach his skills to his benefactors. Carpets have been made there ever after.

A vendor of sweets sits behind his large pot of Gulab Jamun and stacks of Barfi and Laddoos near the Kashi Vishwanath temple in Varanasi.

Sweets in India are given during festivals like Diwali or at rites of passage like weddings. Most are dairy based, very sweet and fried.