on the natyasastra

















Before every performance, offerings must be made: “ghee to Brahma, milk to Saraswati, sweets to Siva, Vishnu, Indra, and others, rice and ghee to Agni, rice with molasses to Sun and Moon, honey and milk to viswedevas, gandharvas and sages, cakes and sweets to Yama and Mitra, ghee and milk to pitrs, pisacas and uragas (serpents), raw and cooked meat to bhuta-sanghas along with wines and spirits and germinating grams.”



















The purpose of purvaranga: “The performance of Asravana pleases the daityas, while Vatrapani pleases the danavas. The hordes of raksasas are pleased with Parighattana; while the guhyakas are propitiated by Sanghotana. The yaksas are happy with Margasarita and so are the gods with the songs.


















Vardhama pleases Rudra and his followers and Utthapana pleases Brahma. The gods of the quarters are happy over Parivartana and the Nandi pleases the moon. The Avakrsta pleases the nagas and Suskavakrsta the ancestors. Visnu is pleased with Rangadwara while leaders of obstacles are pleased by jarjara. Cari pleases Uma and Mahacari the bhutaganas.”


















Fucking what I'm trying to get at is that there is so much care taken to make every one happy, to appease every relationship. But these efforts are valued. The time and energy, maintenance and care, when made a priority will produce divine results. There is value in it.




















How does one manage to be a relational being in an individuated society? A process-person in a product-oriented culture? You can’t discuss these values but in a covert fashion—with trusted brothers and sisters of your dismissible cult, you whisper shared wonders and anxieties kept underground.




















But often it's easier not to stand up for anything.




















I’m not a martyr, I don’t let people walk all over me, I am not too “nice.” I have tried to explain the value of my commitments, but even the quiet listener will utter, through his actions, such horrible accusations as “you seem to have no will of your own.”















Products are created by functions. Maybe mathematicians know this feeling I speak of. The products of complex functions are often elusive, not just difficult to predict but also rare to be observed. The function itself then proves to be at least as meaningful.




















My professor uses a gesture for love where she slowly twists a thread out from her heart as though she is spinning twine between two people. It is the most delicate and graceful thing I have ever seen.

  ¶ 2:43 PM