Sab ke Ram

Sab ke Ram began with a simple observation: across Ram Katha, Shri Rama stands in different relationships with different beings, places and presences.

Sacred Threads created the series to listen to those relationships one at a time—approaching Shri Rama through what the text lets others feel, think, observe, hear and experience of Him, rather than beginning with a single description of who Shri Rama is.

“Sab” leaves room for the many beings, communities, places and other presences that stand in relationship with Shri Rama. “Ke” speaks of relationship, not ownership.

Each episode listens from one such relationship. The series does not claim to represent everyone, nor that each presence has a separate Rama of its own.

The relationships we took up are not a catalogue of all the ways Shri Rama may be encountered.

We listened for how each relationship became visible in the text: through what was felt, thought, observed, heard, done, asked, remembered, resisted or received—and through what happened in Shri Rama’s presence or absence.

We did not look only for devotion, agreement or recognition. We stayed also with grief, fear, misunderstanding, disagreement, opposition and refusal.

The question was less “What does this person tell us about Shri Rama?” and more “What does the text allow us to hear when we stay with this relationship?”

Sab ke Ram did not begin with a fixed list to complete. As Ram Katha moved, relationships came into view, and we chose some of them to stop with and listen to.

Once a relationship drew our attention, we looked for the moments in which it became especially visible and selected the passages needed to let those moments unfold. Sometimes a few verses were enough; sometimes the relationship needed more room, or more than one episode.

The Katha brought relationships into view; we chose where to stop and listen.

What we stopped for should not be mistaken for what matters most; what we passed without an episode should not be mistaken for what matters less.

They were not of one kind. Shri Rama appeared as son, husband, brother, companion, pupil, guide, refuge, ally, king and adversary. He was loved, followed, awaited, remembered, questioned, feared, resisted and opposed.

Relationships emerged through speech, action, memory, presence and absence; through people and communities; through places that received or witnessed His journey; and through sages, poets and tellers standing in other relationships to Him.

These are descriptions of the range we encountered, not categories into which the episodes were fitted. Each के (ke) was listened to as its own relationship.

These relationships were not selected to represent all relationships with Shri Rama, nor because we considered them more important than those left out.

Some drew our attention through their prominence in the Katha; some through a passage, action or voice that made us curious; and sometimes staying with one relationship opened another.

The choices were ours, and so were the omissions.

Where we stopped describes our journey through the Katha, not the limits of the Katha.

Once we chose a relationship, the prastuti involved choices of our own: where to begin and stop, which verses to retain, how to translate and arrange them, whether to use narration or lyrics, what music and visuals to use, and when to leave something unexplained.

Different encounters did not always need the same form. We tried to let the encounter shape the prastuti while keeping the selected text in front.

We could not present without interpreting; our effort was not to let our presentation become the conclusion.

We did not claim that our selection, translation, music or visuals were neutral. Each shaped the presentation and remained our choice.

But we tried not to project those choices back onto the text as its meaning. Where the text reached a conclusion, we allowed it to stand; where it did not, we tried not to complete it on the text’s behalf.

That could mean not demonising Manthara, not idealising Sumitra, restraining Saraswati rather than overwhelming the moment with divinity, or giving Marich more textual room instead of resolving him too quickly.

Our understanding could inform the prastuti; it did not have to become the text’s conclusion.

Sab ke Ram began with the relatively simple idea of approaching Shri Rama through different perspectives. As the series progressed, “perspective” became too narrow. We began listening more closely to relationships themselves—through action, memory, presence, absence, recognition, resistance and response.

“Sab” widened too. Communities, places, a river, poets and other presences entered the series. Difficult encounters asked us to stay longer, resist both condemnation and idealisation, give the text more room, and sometimes change an episode’s form or length.

The series moved from seeing Shri Rama from different perspectives towards learning how to stay with different relationships.

Each new के could enlarge what we understood Sab ke Ram itself to be.