Art serves the legacy
In his book Legacy, James Kerr discussed how the New Zealand Rugby Team, the All Blacks, followed certain rituals and beliefs.
One included the team taking part in the ‘haka’, a Māori ritual in the form of a ceremonial dance, as a way of calling their ancestors to the soil to aid them in their fight against the opposition just before the start of a game.
Another was to do with the black jersey worn by the players. The black jersey is seen as a ‘taonga’, a Māori term for ‘sacred object’.
To become an ‘All Black’ meant to become a ‘steward of a cultural legacy’ and to leave the jersey in a better place.
The function of art seems to have a similar aim.
We seem to be creating a legacy with each piece of work beyond its creation so it functions as a record of the traditions handed down to us, and so we can hand it over to the next generation too.
And it’s wonderful to see Navshakti Navratri truly fulfilling this demand as well.
Navshakti Navratri is a movement founded in Ahmedabad, Gujarat by Gujarati folk artist, Hardik Dave, to celebrate the soul of Navratri in its purest form.
With traditional garba and a community spirit, the Navshakti team has created a space to ensure we don’t lose the essence of what came us before when honouring this special time.
The commercialisation of Navratri has led to some places forgetting the true nature of devotion and purity needed to celebrate the Divine Feminine in all her forms.
As someone who respects our traditions (even all the way in the UK where I was born and reside now) it was an even bigger honour to contribute to this year’s events as a visual artist.
In general, through my own art practice, I’ve come to accept the message from the Bhagavad Gita that encourages us to do the work and not consider the fruits of the effort.
It makes it a little more straightforward to let go of expecting a certain result, and provides the ability and space to focus all the energy on the demand of the art.
However, with this contribution, I spent a lot of time trying to balance remembering this concept and dealing with all the thoughts that came about the result and reception of the work.
I ended up missing the opportunity for my work to reach in enough time so that it could stand alongside everyone else’s. I really wanted the piece there on time, but more hurdles than usual kept appearing at each stage of the process.
I realised I had built an expectation of my work being part of the community of artists whilst the events were on, and that it was standing shoulder to shoulder so that the Divine Mother could see what I had created.
It did reach there, during these nine nights of Navratri, but on the last day of these events, and too late to join its counterparts.
There are many positives that I want to remember with this whole process.
The work poured out onto the canvas how it wanted to, and the blank canvas suddenly had its meaning as part of the larger mission of Navshakti.
It was where I was most free, and most comfortable to trust where the lines were taking themselves.
When the ink touched the canvas, I became lost in its creation.
It was the first time I managed to create a mandala concept to this scale dedicated to the Divine Mother and found the centre on such a large space for the first time too.
And it was the first international shipment of an original piece as well.
My Mum often talks about the nature of the Divine Mother testing you at all levels when she knows there is something you want to do, just to see if you’ll back out.
And I am pleased I didn’t.
She even consoled me by explaining that accepting the work and creating the work meant it already reached where it needed to as well.
Mothers are amazing like that.
I view creatives as channels for the work to come through - that we have this moral duty to create the pieces we do, and that work should always be shared.
We don’t realise it but there is a legacy at work here - one of the artist, and one of the Sanatani.
The word ‘Sanatan’ also means ‘eternal’ and ‘unshakable’.
I, as a follower of Sanatan Dharm, am a ‘Sanatani’.
Through the idea of Navshakti and those nine forms of the Divine Feminine that protects us and strengthens our souls; the one that fights evil and transforms us to create new paths, it feels like there is a legacy beyond a material one towards a more spiritual one.
A legacy to carry through everyday; not just during these nights.
The term ‘legacy’ has its root in the Proto-Indo-European (PIE) root leg- meaning ‘to collect’, ‘to gather’, or ‘to choose’. The PIE root of any word is also seen as the undocumented common ancestor of the Indo-European language family.
This PIE root also contributed to the formation of all or parts of words like ‘legal’, ‘legend’, ‘logic’ and ‘logo’.
The term evolved into the Latin word ‘legare’ meaning ‘to delegate’, ‘bequeath’, or ‘send with a commission’.
This evolved into the Old French term ‘legacie’, meaning ‘body of persons sent out on a mission’, to eventually arrive into the English language in around the 14th Century to mean a ‘bequest’ or ‘inheritance’.
Legacy matters more because the nine nights are finite.
They will pass.
But Navshakti is rooted in legacy.
Legacy seems to follow the idea of a circle in general - the never ending concept of handing over, and of consistent movement.
It mirrors the movement in garba and the idea that we’re in constant motion around a central source.
And in that circle, each step, each beat of the music, each word sung, each line drawn, and each piece of artwork all contribute to this legacy.
I still cannot believe I was even asked to contribute to something of such cultural necessity to the spirit of Navratri.
Not only will Navshakti Navratri go from strength to strength in the coming years, it will continue to fulfil its obligation to honour the legacy of a more traditional form of Navratri so that future generations understand the true essence of why we celebrate the Divine Feminine in all her forms.
Jai Ambe, Jai Bhavani.