'Sindhu Jeejal Maata' is an ode to the forgotten magic of Indus

Sketches’ rendition of Sindhu Vandana sees Kaif, Erum and Bazelah in all their goddess glory.


Asfa Sultan February 02, 2022
KARACHI:

Swaying across the baking sand ahead of a sinking sun, three hourglass figures stand tall below the dusky sky, beside a long-forgotten river. In reverence, they conquer, like goddesses, fallen but not forgotten, synchronised but running wild while holding their own. What appears to be a ritual attended by the spirits of our forefathers in a now, morally spiritless world, is an ode to the river Indus, to Sindhu Maata and all that she holds together. The video is a presentation from the latest Lahooti digital edition.

“In Sindhi, jeejal means mother and in Sanskrit, maata means mother. So, Sindhu Jeejal Maata is a tribute to the River Indus that is a feminine and motherly entity for the inhabitants of Sindh. She is a goddess,” Saif Samejo, Lahooti Melo founder and The Sketches' frontman tells The Express Tribune.

Dance of the Indus

Written by Gordhan Bharti, the original is sung by Jaya Vidhani, arranged by C Arjun and performed by Anila Sunder. The Sketches’version, on the other hand, features the melodic voice of Muskan Kotwani and is choreographed by Kaif Ghaznavi, who performs it alongside Erum Bashir and Bazelah Mustafa.

“It really conveys a woman’s plight. A child’s plight, who yearns to return to the place of her birth, knowing that even when she does, everything will have changed,” shares Kaif, who choreographed the song with a frozen hand that healed in the process of her worship of the Indus.

“When Saif brought the song to me, it had these kathak or tablay ke bol, He had kept them knowing he was going to get me to dance on the song. That was very thoughtful of him. But when I started choreographing it in July, I was going through a terrible cervical episode. My left hand had paralysed and the doctors had told me I can’t and shouldn’t dance. It was quite disappointing. But I kept at it and somehow, my body started to heal itself. Because Odissi has these yoga postures, this tehrao, it healed my body,” she elaborates.

Odissi, an ancient Indian classical dance from the Hindu temples of Odisha, is used to convey religious stories and spiritual ideas. It incorporates the use of symbolic costumes, body movement, abhinaya (expressions) and mudras (gestures and sign language) set out in ancient Sanskrit literature. “Both Bazelah and Erum had this passion for performing arts. The abhinaya – the art of expression in Indian aesthetics – is something I knew these two could excel at. But they had never done Odissi. So, I showed them a lot of videos and we followed yoga postures to ensure ke hum dance ka ang bithaen," she adds.

The glacier-fed river that is slowly running dry may have altered its movement over the course of time but its ‘ang’ is still intact, flowing freely but gracefully. Releasing with ferocity and completing its journey with patience. Kaif's choreography of Sindhu Jeejal Maata represents the same.

“She [Sindhu] has immense energy at the point of expulsion, and as she starts distributing that energy around the banks surrounding her, they become fertile, you’ll see immense plantation. She grows calmer as her energy is dissipated. By the time she enters Sindh, she will have grown much quieter, ready to meet with the Arabian Sea. This journey really helped me choreograph the dance movements and the energy with which they should be delivered. Keeping in line with the format of Odissi, we inculcated elements of bhangra and the Rajasthani dance,” shares Kaif.

The performer detailed how the mudras were used to recreate the harmony and division of the Indus. “We remain synchronised until one of us becomes a goddess to provide and the others start worshiping her. It’s our way of mimicking the many facets of the Indus, which provides life. And the consequence of life is the glow, happiness, sunshine and smiles. It’s all very metaphorically expressed.”

Ode to the mother

The video is a serene and mesmerising take on a prayer previously only echoed across a land connected to ours historically, culturally and geographically through the river but disconnected by the borders and politics surrounding it. Saif, who grew up watching the Indus being worshipped, wanted to pay his respects to the mother who has been providing without bias, despite man-made divides.

“The river we are so busy polluting now, used to be worshipped” Saif laments, recalling a time when women drenched in gold danced at its bank with thaals in their hands. “I don’t remember what material those thaals were made of but they didn’t sink. They contained seeds for plantation, diyas, fruits and money. We would throw the seeds into the river so it could carry them and encourage plantation wherever they’d land. Then, we’d release the thaals and watch the river turn golden with the sun setting behind it. A simple rasm like that taught us how sacred the water is. The water that connects us all.”

Saif believes that because our forefathers acknowledged how dependent we are on the Indus for survival, they kept it pure and its purity kept them spiritually connected. But as humans began depending on technology; they forgo their responsibility towards the environment, causing a rift. “The impurities we now release, we consume. That is why there is dirt in our minds, why we are so fabricated. We even forget that we are from the Indus, that our history is not of the Arabs’ or the Turks’, it is of the Indus Valley civilization.”

The lyrics of Sindhu Jeelal Maata, as Saif puts them, are as “innocent as a little girl’s attempt at writing a poem for her mother, expressing her love in whatever words she knows.” Kaif, who performs on the song with Bazelah and Erum, also felt a sense of yearning in them.

Watch the music video here:

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