Little India – the cultural precinct that’s noted for its architecture, heritage and colours; it’s among the busiest streets in Singapore. Amidst the hustle and bustle, flashing lights and strong, dusky spices, there’s a story waiting to be unravelled at an unassuming white building, which houses Singai Tamil Sangam, a Tamil volunteer organisation for the past nine years.
On 1 July, we embarked on a sensory journey of discovery through the perspectives of a distressed mother, nature and one hundred sons embroiled in the Kurushetra war.
It is here, where the first instalment of the PANCHA series kicked off. It is also here, where the company bids its farewell with their maiden performance, before setting foot in Lavender Street.
Murmurs in the Wind is inspired by the story of a grieving mother who lost her sons to war. Gandhari, a woman from the Mahabharatha, chose to forgo her sight when she was betrothed to a man who’s born blind. With Vaayu, the Lord of the Wind, as her eyes, she awaits news of her hundred sons, fighting at the front lines of a war.
The dance depicts the tale of love, courage and grief, which gives each archetype the room to explore their respective character through expounding current issues such as war, persecution, etc.
The work opened with Gandhari’s three remaining sons preparing for war on the night of the 17th. The Kaurava brothers have been fighting for almost three weeks and it was painful watching their 97 brothers fall. And so, the disheartened brothers prepared themselves for the final gruelling day of war, while Vaayu kept vigil. True enough, the war closed in on these warriors who, one by one, collapsed in defeat and exhaustion.
Conflicted and torn, Vaayu had to deliver the tragic news of the Kauravas’ deaths to their worried mother, Gandhari. Dain Nova Saputra portrayed this role with aplomb, as each routine was punctuated with forceful power and fragility at the same time.
As we moved to the main hall of the building, an air of melancholy, derived from Alberto Wileo’s dim lighting and Kailin Yong’s melodies, greeted us. Shahrin Johrin showed us the cry of anguish, pain and loss of an emotionally fragile mother, as she confronted God in desolation. She recalled memories of playing with her children but was jolted in shock when reality struck her.
As Vaayu appeared to bring news of her final three sons, Gandhari collapsed in despair and fear. Finally, the souls of the children came back to look for their grieving mother, and sought solace in her touch for the final time.