The show must go on

Growl. In the hurly burly of the coastal market of Karnataka, a tiger suddenly makes its appearance. There is applause, and some more. Surprised, the beast lurches towards the crowd, claws  extended, ready for the kill. This gains more applause, too. Cheers erupt all around. Somehow the savage beast is soothed. 

With every cheer, the character impersonating the ferocious beast registers a new spring in his step until his movements become more that of our distant ancestor than the predator. He rests after a while, straightens his costume, produces a mirror and starts to adjust his makeup, with the entire world watching. When you are a street performer, the world is both your stage and your backstage. As a VESHA dancer, one must learn to move effortlessly between the two if s/he is to entertain more people and put some food on the table.

The Vesha are a community of dancers that trace back their origin back to Vedic times. Since time immemorial, they have been enacting stories from the Mahabharat and Ramayan for the masses who were unable to read the giant epics. Doorstep to doorstep they dance, mingling with the crowd, always too eager to give the spectators an encore. And, most of the times there is a call for a repeat performance, for the Veshas bring the gods and their tales to a commoner's doorstep.    

Every year, guided by the auspicious stars, the Veshas perform during Ganesh Chaturthi, Krishna Janmaasthami and Diwali. Scores of devotees and revelers flock to the streets during these festivals, where merry making is the name of the game. And, when merry making is called for the Veshas can’t be far behind. 

They appear like magic, spilling their ancient stories on the mundane streets. With their animated performances, they entice the crowd. If they are lucky, and the crowd in the mood for a little generosity, they get more than they expect. But the Veshas aren't in it just for the money. But like everything else,it sooner or later boils down to finances and the Veshas are in no position to defy that universal rule.

Generally, they choose as their ‘stage’ places where they are likely to get paid more: such as in front of the shops and in snaking lanes where scores of people crisscross each passing moment. And, when all is over, they dissipate into the crowds, vanish, hibernate till the next festival when, under the welcoming stars, they will sprinkle their magic again. 

 “This is the story of invisible people,” says Prasiit Sthapit, a Kathmandu based photographer, who tagged along with the Veshas during the Ganesh Chaturthi festival. “It’s about people we pass by everyday and fail to notice, until poof! they disappear without leaving a trace.”      

 “As much as this story is about the Vesha and their dying art,” says Sthapit, “it is also a celebration of colour and beautiful people.”