“I COULDN’T BREATHE, I COULDN’T DANCE”

On October 7, 2023, when I woke up to the news of the attacks on Israeli citizens, my heart sank into a deep abyss. Not only did I have a terrible feeling about innocent Israeli lives lost, but I had a dreadful sense that this event was going to catapult into something catastrophic. My premonition, unfortunately, turned out to be valid. In the weeks that followed, I woke up to more and more news of ‘retaliation’ by Israeli forces. It became very quickly clear that this was neither an appropriate retaliation, nor targeted warfare on those responsible for the October 7 attacks. What horrified me the most was the number of Palestinian children being targeted, day after day, night after night.

Very soon, I felt like the horrors were too colossal to be a passing story, worthy of a quick read only to be swiped away on our smart phones for the next story or post. The massacres were seeping into my soul. I could not breathe, I could not dance, I could not live properly, knowing that innocent children were being deliberately and mercilessly killed for crimes that they clearly did not commit. Wars are meant to be fought between armies, I remember thinking. This is not a war. This is something much more sinister and horrific.

As I sank deeper and deeper into despair and helplessness, I spoke to friends and family about what I can do. I could not fathom that my own 5-year-old will grow up and ask me one day – “Mama, when children were dying in Palestine, what did you do?” and my answer would be – “I couldn’t do anything”. I knew I had to do something, but I didn’t know where to start, how to go about it.  

For another few weeks, I sat paralyzed by what was happening in Gaza, watching news stories that went from bad to worse with each passing day. It was clear to me that this was a monumental travesty of justice, a gross violation of human rights, and nothing short of a blot on the very face of humanity.

PHONED A FRIEND

One morning, I called a dance scholar friend of mine in South Africa. Donovan Robert and I were discussing a matter related to dance, but soon both of us ended up discussing the ‘conflict’ in Palestine. We both expressed our shock and disappointment at the silence in India about it, and the silence within the dance community about the ongoing atrocities. An idea was born. What if we put out a call to dancers in India to use their art, perhaps a photograph of them dancing and expressing what they would like to say to the Palestinian people about what is happening there? We thought we’d give it a try.

As soon as the phone call was over, I opened my messages and started drafting a call for dancers to speak up. At first, the response was timid. Even hostile. Many did not understand why I was doing what I was doing, some did not understand the intention behind it, others downright opposed it or ignored my messages. But a small number of the dance fraternity in India responded positively immediately, and our ‘solidarity list’ grew from 2 to 8.  

We decided to call ourselves ‘Indian Dancers for Gaza’s Children’ or IDGC, and started Facebook pages, and Twitter and Instagram handles. Over the next month, we had almost 300 people on our solidarity list, not just dancers but people from all walks of life and from different parts of the world. The movement grew so rapidly, and we were frantic that we hadn’t yet figured out what exactly we would do. We knew it couldn’t just be a call for dancers and others to put their names on a list and share a photo.  

WE FIND A CONTACT

Donovan found a contact at the Jerusalem Princess Basma Centre in East Jerusalem (Occupied Palestine), which is the only pediatric rehabilitation facility for Palestinian children with disabilities. We learnt that they were setting up a satellite unit in Gaza City in affiliation with the Al Ahli Hospital to treat gravely injured children from this ‘war’ and to rehabilitate them and their families, both medically and psychosocially. We got onto a zoom call with them. Their joy at our willingness to support them was evident. We decided to run a series of fundraisers to support JBPC and started asking the dancers on our list all over the world (that had now crossed over 400 from 25 countries) to help us organize events and mobilize people to attend and donate.

Aranyani Bhargav and fellow dancer. [Photograph by Tusi Roy. Published by permission.]

Our first fundraiser took place in Lyon, France, in June of 2024. It was a success and they were able to transfer the funds to the Basma Centre without much trouble. Our second fundraiser took place in Toronto, Canada. That too, went off smoothly. But we had no idea about the obstacles that lay ahead of us in India.

Events were in the process of being organized in various cities – Bangalore, New Delhi, Pune, Bombay, Ahmedabad, Cochin, Hyderabad, Chennai, Calcutta. But no fundraising platform in India would host our campaign because the beneficiaries were not of Indian nationality. No individual was willing to hold or transfer funds to Gaza, for fear of government retaliation or interference. Venues were afraid of being shut down for hosting our events.

NINETEEN FUNDRAISERS

But the dancers who wanted to dance for Gaza were fearless and determined, as were Donovan and I. We aggressively pursued various possibilities, convinced venues and found ways to transfer funds to the Basma Centre legally and safely – and ended up organizing a total of 19 fundraisers from June to October (10 in India, 4 in Canada, 2 in USA, 2 in Poland, 1 in France) and raised $14,198.35 (INR 11,94,189.30) for the treatment of almost 300 traumatized and injured Palestinian people --  children and their families in Gaza City, Deir alBalah  and Khan Younis. As the ‘October 7th attack’ turned into an ‘ongoing conflict’, then a ‘genocide’ and finally a ‘holocaust’, our efforts were ongoing for 5 months, almost non-stop.

At the events I was able to physically attend (one in New Delhi and two in Bangalore) , I wept, I spoke, I danced. For those I was unable to attend, I was there wholeheartedly in spirit, micromanaging the announcements, the organizing and all the other logistics of who will hold the funds and who will transfer them and how. It was an incredible collective effort of dancers, organizers, venue owners, vendors, cultural trusts and of course, Donovan and me, and Julieann Sewell, our primary contact person at the Basma Centre.

“I DID DO SOMETHING”

During this time, friends and family were worried for my physical well-being, mental health and levels of fatigue and exhaustion. But I kept going back to my future son, and took solace in the fact that I would be telling my future son that I did do something when children were dying in Gaza. I did not turn a blind eye and look away. I was not complicit in this with my silence or inaction. I, along with hundreds of artists, did something real, meaningful and tangible to save as many Palestinian lives as we could.

Aranyani Bhargav in her dance for Gaza (Photograph by Dinesh Khanna. Published by permission)

Admittedly, during this time, I lost opportunities to perform and promote my own work. There were times when my family and friends felt neglected by me. But I know that, at that time, IDGC was something that had to be done. If not for humanity and if not for the children being massacred, orphaned, maimed, imprisoned and injured, then for the sake of my own sanity. When I was suddenly ghosted by a cultural organization or threatened by a right wing influential dancer, I wore these reactions like a badge of honors. When I was told I was obsessed, I was convinced that it had to be that way. And when I learnt that I had played a part in saving Palestinian lives, I wept uncontrollably. Spearheading this movement has changed me fundamentally. This experience will shape who I am, has helped me understand who I am, and will determine for as long as I live who I will be, as a person, an artist, a mother.

I   know that what IDGC did was very small in comparison to the scale of growing violence, death and destruction in Palestine. But I am also convinced that every voice matters, every action counts – however big or small. And crucially, I believe IDGC galvanized hundreds ofpeople – we are currently 777 people in solidarity with the children of Gaza, from 28 countries of the world – and was able to give a voice to many dancers who were feeling the same way as me, but didn’t know how to express it or what to do.

IDGC was able to give them a platform to speak up and stand on the right side of humanity. I will forever be grateful to all those who supported this movement, including my friends and family; to all the artists that participated in the events with no profit to themselves so that all the funds can go to the Basma Centre -- and to Donovan Roeber, without whose unwavering support, crucial guidance and material help, IDGC could not have done what it set out to do, and did.

STILL WEEP AT TIMES

As the genocide carries on, and intensifies, I see a silver lining in the ICC arrest warrants and many countries actively supporting Palestine now. I still weep once in a while, upon seeing the headless limp body of a child or a child sleeping upon the grave of his mother. I still find myself in moments of despair and helplessness every once in a while, but I continue to remain engaged with organizations that are working towards a free Palestine in the hope that one day, Palestine will be free. And some day, I will go there and dance with the children of Gaza.