Talking of the Yoni

The highlight of Aaina's first evening was a stage performance entitled"Yoni Ki Baat", a South Asian rendition of the famed "Vagina Monologues", created by Eve Ensler, the objective of which has been to exhort women to shed self and societally imposed inihibitive notions about their own sexuality, and to speak out against sexual and gender-based violence. For those of you to whom the monologues are news (are you kidding me, guy?!), read about Eve Ensler, and the monologues. "Yoni" means "vagina" in the ancient Indian language of Sanskrit, and in Hindi. "Yoni Ki Baat" means "Talks of the" Yoni in Hindi.

The actors, all women of South Asian heritage and none of them professional performers, gave an intensely provocative and electric presentation to a completely sold-out cinema hall. And the actors could not have asked for a more supportive crowd. In response to Farah Nousheen's (Tasveer's co-founder and one of the Yoni actors) very endearing appeal to the audience to "please send some love our way, we are all doing this for the first time", everyone responded with animation, and cheered and applauded all through the performance. And the post-play discussion revealed the depths to which everyone, especially the men, was stirred.

The writing, which was pivotal, was great. Some of it was from the original, some from the South Asian sisters, and two or three self-written by the actors. It was edgy, irreverent, humorous, searing, and tragic. The story of the woman in a stark and loveless marriage, with the nightly sex as romantic as a surgical procedure, was very sensitively and poignantly performed by Farah. The piece entitled "Egosexual", with its "me and my vagina living it up", was deliciously droll. The piece recollected the momentous discovery by a young Indian woman that the Shiv Ling portrays the inside view of the male organ in the female, and that the ancient South Asians worshipped this symbol as the eternal source of life in the universe. And the humorous essay juxtaposed the yucky experience of being rubbed against by sweaty, horny jerks in the DTC buses with this moment of discovery of sensual and cosmic beauty.

Uma Rao presented a mesmeric self-written piece centered around her intimate and powerful relationship with her mother. Being fortunate enough to have strong emotional and intellectual bonds with my own mother, Uma's piece touched me to the point of tears. The performance was a winning combination of beautiful writing, and a bold yet soft and sensitive presentation. Gita Mehrotra performed another self-written piece, "For all of Us". In my opinion, she has the makings of a sensitive writer. Her piece was an extremely moving account of different women, ranging from her own grandmother who was widowed early to South Asian lesbians known only via newspaper clippings. It talked about the heartbreaking realization that South Asian lesbian histories (like the histories of so many oppressed groups in the world) are virtually non-existent, lost forever. The beauty of the essay was in the seamless collecting together of the sadness across generations and across sexual orientations, and an understanding that women share a collective past, present, and future.

Above all, the performances were honest and courageous. I cannot imagine too many women (let alone Eastern women) having the spunk to do it. So, my gratitude to all who made the performance possible.

Also check out Uprising Radio's Sonali Kolhatkar's interview of the South Asian Sisters.

See part 2 of this post.