The World Culture Festival conflated everything with everything else. So it is difficult to calm my seething writer’s-mind long enough to decide on where to begin my blog. I “take a long… deep…normal breath in, and let go”, and begin at the beginning.
In the year/months/days/hoursminutessecondsnanosconds leading up to the World Culture Festival, millions around the world who were connected with it in some way or the other would have experienced a gamut of emotions. Of highs and lows.
When I made up my mind to attend, it was against the frantic cautions of some of my office team. The discouragement centered on my age (no, I am not telling), on the fact that I am diabetic, on the vast area of the venue. “You have to walk a lot, there will be no transportation.” the objections ran on.
But one day, the WCF penny just dropped, and before I knew it my air ticket was booked, my bag packed.
The sense of wonder began right on the flight. Picture this: a planeload of foreigners all bound for the WCF. When the airhostesses came around to take meal choices, all the internationals opted for “vegetarian!” O! the influence of that One Man!
At last came the moment: ground zero, Day 1, March 11, 2016. The excitement-o-meter ratcheted right up.
The speeches of dozens of visibly-moved dignitaries, the eclectic, electric, electrifying performances of dance and music from around the world. The incredible stage - an architectural startler. The even more incredible patterned-lighting. The awesome acoustics. But these were merely the mundane elements of the mind-boggling spectacle that unfolded in front of my eyes.
What made a huger impact on me was the soul-stirring variety of people on a single stage: an ocean of people drawn from opposite – and opposed - ends of a variety of spectra: politicians rubbing shoulders with their political opponents; religious heads standing shoulder to shoulder with their equivalents from different religions, thought leaders and retired statesmen from diametrically-opposite persuasions. The dividing lines between fierce opposites seemed to have melted like cheese on a pizza in a heated-to-capacity oven.
As several speakers expressed, it was only Gurudev who could have engineered this unbelievable assembly of opposites.Only he who could inspire with his vision - and galvanize with his example -the thousands of volunteers in far-flung locations on this planet who did all that was necessary to put 35,000 artistes from 155 countries on one stage. With an audience of 3.5 million.
So many aspects competed for my gaze: the dazzling variety of nationalities, costumes, complexions, headgear, instruments, dance forms and dance-steps added to the pulsating ambience. The very apparent bonhomie on stage. The sky-high enthusiasm of the audience.
The weather Gods, looking down on the splendid kaleidoscope of color, form, and movement below, decided to display their own might. It was a one-in-a-million meteorological revelation that unfolded! It began on the first evening with an exuberant breeze turning into a sharp rainfall which pelted the performers and the audience with hailstones. The second day the afore-mentioned Gods playfully puffed out their cheeks and blew fiercely at all and everything in their sight. Then we got a lashing of wind and rain that etched an unforgettable, gargantuan double-rainbow that arced beautifully from one end of the 7-acre stage to the other. Joy and wonder mirrored in the eyes of the millions who witnessed it.
But joy and pain are two sides of the same coin. Gurudev’s life-long dream of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam was all set to walk off the pages of ancient Hindu scripture and spring onto the WCF stage. Then along came the motivated, self-appointed nay-sayers with their newly-minted concerns about the “flood-plains” of what was basically a stench-spewing, sewage-watered canal no self-respecting buffalo would be seen entering into! See … some problems come with the territory. Sorry, just punning!
The self-appointed “spokes”persons’ agenda seemed to be more about putting said “spokes” in the wheel, I guess, than speaking up – with authentic facts and figures - for their purported cause. So the song and dance was not just on the stage. Is it too much, I wonder, to ask certain segments to reflect at least a little on the untenability of their musings and writing?
Maybe the hardest thing to overcome is the insidious colonialization of the media-mind. But – happily - the idea of world-peace is an idea “whose time has come.” And Gurudev is ever there to bring us all back to our center.
Speaker after well-known speaker at the podium affirmed that the Festival had brought all of humanity together to celebrate its diversity.
To me the WCF was also a celebration of India’s centuries-strong, unitive, ‘soft” contributions to the world. This is an aspect of the WCF that cannot be drowned out, or deducted from, by highly-motivated, small-minded criticism.
The glory of the WCF is that its core values have already fallen, like organic seeds, into the fertile soil of all right-thinking, enthusiastic, forward-looking and positive minds that had congregated there. And begun germinating into good thoughts and sankalpas for world peace and unity. For truth, inclusivity, and love. And for world-seva.
Several nations have expressed their desire to host the next edition of the World Culture Festival. For my part, I look forward to a more positive, un-biased host-media, whichever country wins the honor to hold this all-the-world-on-a-stage.
As for the Art of Living, it can only go from strength to strength, powered by love and humility. The love and the humility of Gurudev, and the love and commitment of its millions-strong volunteers.
Jai Gurudev. Jai Hind.
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