This weekend saw the birth of a dream by the name of LIGHTHOUSE, as it pre-launched — in gracious collaboration with GOONJ — with a musical audio play Fermata (Bengali, 90 minutes): a fundraiser for Amphan relief and rehabilitation work.
And I write to tell you stories of the things that came together, of stars that aligned and carved out ways. For certain things come with their invisible paths carved out ahead of time, or I can best guess standing now, here, seeing how simply dots join and pieces fall in shape.
This year, ahead of the regional new year seasons and just around the time we were summoned to lock doors and stay inside, a just so slight idea of renewing some long-lost bonding and creating some prospective ones on the way nudged us to reach out to a few friends who pursue the art of words and melodies in their very own and unique ways.
Some were our juniors from Indian Statistical Institute, Kolkata, and some from college, cousins and family, some new friends we met on our way over the last few years of writing books and making films or theatres. Some live in the UK, some teach in the US, some work at offices in Singapore or Australia, some of us spread over various cities in India. But we all had internet, and zoom, and so the world was small. We couldn’t meet our next doors due to the lockdown but well, we could darn meet each other! All in all, we were set to have a good Bengali New Year on 14th April 14. And we did.
Only, it didn’t stop there; it wasn’t meant to, I guess. Come May, a full one month later than that first meeting, we met again to celebrate the Bard’s birthday that our childhood and school memories are weaved upon. It was great fun. It was not to stop, not so soon.
So this time, we put our heads together and thought we’ll do this: conduct an audio play, with live music and all. Ambitious? You bet! Easy, yup, that too. The people on the team were so talented, you have to meet them to believe me. So it began! JD wrote the letters, we argued over possible plots, Woody lent voice, great and diverse singers in the group agreed to sing the numbers, play the tunes, even lend their own musical creations — lyrics and all. We would take a month to practice, or so we thought.
‘Fermata‘ was born!
A saga of lost friendships and broken promises, ‘Fermata‘ unfolds fragility and resilience of people and their long lost bonds in the form of letters to each other. It weaves words with music as it tells us stories of heartbreaks and hope, of music and love that stands the ruthless passage of time. It unfolds the reality of current times, and brings us back together in hope and despair alike. ‘Fermata‘ spoke of un-empowered parenting and unprocessed emotions, of migration and homelessness that is often out own heart, of fears across which love awaits lifelong, relentless, embittered with time and despair.
‘Fermata’ spoke of us and for us, and we could not wait to bring it out to the world.
Time has its own idea of timing, I guess.
Just around the time we were wrapping up the preparatory steps and planning the execution, we woke up to the news of Amphan that wouldn’t let us sleep for nights thereon. Our hometown was in shambles. Hundred years old banyan trees were wrung out of the grip of earth with the force of the cycle, asbestos roofs flew off leaving homes naked under bare sky. Sunderbans almost melted back from the Earth into water, it seemed from pictures. Lamp posts and traffic stands dislocated, ceilings gave in, and bloated electrocuted bodies of pedestrians began floating up water logged streets that were once haven to tea-halts and fritter shops for evening têtê-à-têtês. Our boi-para where we bought second hands of our paltry savings as children, where we took long walks as lovers, the lanes and the earth went under water. Every other house went under a gloom of darkness with power supply cut off, with access to clean water becoming fantasies that went dry.
People, press, politics seemed oblivious.
As for us, our first reaction was the usual: we didn’t know what to do than the basic and the obvious, whatever we can, to whoever was known, was working there, needed help. But then it dawned on us to do more. For the time, it had a message for us.
It was too loud to not hear, or act.
We made hurried calls to NGOs, we made hurried posters and hurried plans. It is the least we could do, we know. We did that, just that. We met wonderful souls who helped us find the right people at right times, helped us bridge and engage, saw us through. Like always.
Now, the subplot. On the proverbial ‘other hand.’
All at the same time, while we were sweltering in the locked up May, I had been struck with another lightening on the sides, something I knew I was long due for, something few people had plain begun threatening me to do “or else”. So I finally made the — plan to — plunge to bring the work I’ve been doing for the past few years into one place, and make it into an offering (than the current: rich, rewarding yet adhoc, follow-your-nose model). So, LIGHTHOUSE was conceived in my head as a place that will put shape around the callings and the causes, and take them ahead.
LIGHTHOUSE will be telling stories and building communities for thought-leaders and change-makers. It will offer events, courses, keynotes and conversations. LIGHTHOUSE will work with individuals, students, communities, workplaces, colleges and schools in the space of written and spoken words for self-awareness and social influence. It will aim to help bring up an ecosystem of deep engagement, empathetic understanding and meaningful equality. It will involve itself with dialogues around self, community and society that are essential in the ecosystem.
So the website for LIGHTHOUSE began to be pictured, plans began to be made, ideas began to keep my hypertension at its mercury levels. I drew up charts, long to-do lists, webinars to watch, articles to read, videos to watch.
But wait. When can it be born?
Later. A little later. One week, and then another. Okay, let’s wait and see.
Waiting and seeing, the website work stopped suddenly due to technical hurdles, the write-up and drop-down need enormous amount of further work, pictures to sort, details to fill.
Suddenly, just as suddenly now, the two things came together.
A fundraiser with our group of friends for a cause that is so close to heart, it pains.
A dream, at its verge of taking shape.
The signs couldn’t be mistaken.
This was a call too loud to not listen.
So be it, then.
So here we were, of a sudden. Without a website but nevertheless, with a dream of a LIGHTHOUSE that will be born ahead of plan. Its inaugural event will be this: a collaboration and confluence of art: words, melodies and human yearnings. From the people who have blessed us by crossing our paths at various points in time, through blood, classrooms, chance and design.
We could either swim or drown…
And with that at stake, we took the plunge.
7th June, 7 pm saw us, all 16 of us from 12 cities spread over four continents — Asia, Australia, North America and Europe — gather on Zoom, mapped to FB Live from the Facebook page of LIGHTHOUSE.
We played title-cards, guitars and piano, we sang songs, made music and mouthed verses. We read letters out to each other, of lost hopes and faithful friendship, of despair only time can hold and heal.
We weaved words and tunes, and the audience cheered us on from the other side of the screen — relentless, proud and precious.
We did it. We did it!
Story and Direction: Jyotishka Datta (Arkansas, US)
Script: Sinjini Sengupta (Gurgaon, India), Jyotishka Datta (Arkansas, US) and Anirban Guha (Gurgaon, India)
Cast: Avishek Ghosh (London, UK), Sinjini Sengupta (Gurgaon, India), Debadyuti Roy (New York, US), Jyotishka Datta (Arkansas, US), Srijan Sengupta (Virginia, US)
Singers: Tamal Chakrabarty (Sydney, Australia), Debdut Sadhu (Haldia, India), Dipanwita Majumder (London, UK), Diya Chatterjee (Bangalore, India), Rudra Sarkar (Bangalore, India), Debdut Sadhu (Haldia, India), Anirban Gupta (Bangalore, India), Mandira Shah (Bangalore, India), Sulekha Chanda (Kolkata, India), Shubhabrata Bakshi (Gurgaon, India)
Music: Arnab Barat (Singapore), Soumadeep Sen (Bangalore, India), Debdut Sadhu (Haldia, India), Shubhabrata Bakshi (India)
Barely 12 hours into the live act, there were we at 2.5K views and counting.
To realise, these are not just numbers. These are people, this is love.
And oh, the joy of that!
What else can you ask for in return, for the long nights of rehearsal runs, hopes and fretting?
For those of you who want to come share the joy with us, we bring you the recording of Fermanta (Bengali, 90 minutes).
Please watch and let us know how you like it. Please feel free to share it in your circles, so more of the world can come share the joy of this collaborative art, perhaps our only reply and hope in face of the trying times that are now.
And while you’re at it, please subscribe to LIGHTHOUSE to stay connected with us in our efforts to find voice and goodness in people, communities and workplaces. We will bring you value of storytelling, change-making and thought-leadership in various forms and shapes.
The dreams are many. Stay with us.