Kissa and kahani

THERE’S ONE thing that globalization has tried to very covertly take away from us, it’s our own traditions, the ones that we grew up with and held close to our hearts for many ages.

- GARIMA SADHWANI

Until one day, we woke up and never indulged in them again.

One such tradition that has been at the risk of being lost for quite some time now is oral storytelling. Remember the tales your grandmother used to tell you while tucking you in bed, the magic that mushairas held, the Ramayana and Mahabharata tales recited in your neighbourhoods, and even the extempore competitions in school where you invariably fumbled or laughed?

In a time when countless avenues of entertainment are just a click away, preserving the OGs can be an arduous task, one that might feel too tedious. But there are some people who have held onto them firmly, to keep intact the glory of an almost pious art form—one that myths and mythologies hugely relied on.

Take for instance, storytelling festivals—Kathakalok held in Delhi, Gaatha: Mumbai International Storytelling Festival, Kathakar scheduled to be held in the national capital from January 31-February 2, Udaipur Tales to be held in its namesake Rajasthani city from January 10-12, and Spoken Fest, among others. Held across regions, they have been wonderful avenues to bring patrons of the art form together.

Says Sushmita Singha, co-founder at Udaipur Tales: “We are creating a space where people can pause, connect, and truly live the magic of storytelling. The bond between the storyteller and the listener is something no digital medium can replicate, and that is what draws people to festivals.”