India Culture

When she dances the role of the powerful Hindu goddess Durga, Amrapali Ambegaokar spins in fast circles, setting the 108 tiny bells on each of her ankles to tinkling, whirling her silk costume into a shimmering blur. She stamps her feet, making an alarming sound that indicates pain but doesn't hurt. And with flowing limbs, precise hand motions and the mischievous flickering of her dark-as-night eyes, she draws her weapons to slay demons to the tones of a vocalist and the beat of tabla drums.

Clusters of men, shirtless and barefoot, stand warily on opposite sides of a chalk line that divides a grass field. One of them inches toward the line, clasping his hands in prayer. Then he scurries across, only to be slapped and kicked to the ground by his opponents. The crowd roars its approval. The ancient Indian sport of k abaddi resembles, at first glance, nothing short of mayhem. And it looks all the stranger when played in a college football stadium south of Oakland.

Donna Hughes and her 2-year-old son were driving contentedly down a major New Delhi avenue recently singing one of their favorite nursery rhymes: Bah, bah, black sheep, have you any wool? ... The 27-year-old woman, an aquatics instructor and wife of a Canadian diplomat here, slowed the car as it approached an intersection. Suddenly something burst in the open driver's-seat window and began ripping her hair. She instinctively clutched the steering wheel for protection.

It is July, and the thoughts of Indians have turned to mangoes, their juicy and golden reward after months of torrid heat. The Benazir and the Bhutto are again in season, almost as green as the Pakistani flag. The walnut-sized Angoor Dana (Grape Seed), the blushing Husn-ara (Beauty) and the lime-like Laila are now in markets and people's pantries.

"Somehow we found ourselves talking about Ram Dass' funeral. I said the name of the funeral would have to be 'Be Dead Now' (after Ram Dass' best - selling book 'Be Here Now'). Bob Dylan has a line in a song somewhere about he who isn't busy being born is busy dying. There's not that many people who, at 60, are still busy being born. Ram Dass is still being born." --political activist Paul Gorman, co-author with Ram Dass of "How Can I Help?" Social action quiz for the '90s: 1.

Michael Jackson's "Black or White" was blasting through the Pub World the other night, and Rocky the bartender was drawing his 100th or so pitcher of draft as Ramjee Chandran, Bangalore's self-described "Pusher of Pubs" and "Booster of Beer," led an American visitor through yet another stop along what surely ranks as India's most incongruous guided tour: The Bangalore Pub Crawl.

It was only a matter of time. After catching on among contemporary trend followers, the centuries-old art of mehndi--painting on the skin in intricate henna-colored designs--is getting a new look. Sacred Earth, a downtown Los Angeles mehndi boutique, decided that enough dull reddish brown was enough and has created dyes that are painted on in the ancient designs, only in bold, multicolored shades.

Walking through a trendy boutique in a mall in the Valley, I am reminded of when I was a little girl and I wrapped myself in the gold and rich colors of my grandmother's soft silk saris. I see bright red dots called bindis, not wrapped in little cards in the sweet-smelling Indian shops of my childhood but crowded together in a neon-lit showcase with chokers, cheap jewelry, colorful hair dyes and other trendy accessories.

What does it take to cover the story of India's 900 million people? Try three months, 19 roving photography students and nearly 5,000 rolls of film. That's what Brooks Institute of Photography in Santa Barbara did when it sent the photo-documentary students abroad last summer. Whitney Old (left, with cattle) and other Brooks students fanned across the country, from strife-torn Kashmir to the rugged Himalayas to bustling Bombay.