From Report to Rhythm: My First Day at RASA

When I first stepped into RASA (Ramana Sunritya Aalaya) at Greenways Road Extension, I felt the same flutter in my stomach that one has on the first day of school — a mix of curiosity, nervousness, and that quiet question in the mind: What exactly am I walking into?

Within minutes, the hesitation melted away. The space had its own charm — warm, unhurried, and alive with rhythm. RASA, founded in 1989, was the pioneering dream vision of Dr. Ambika Kameshwar.

The trust is a social initiative aimed at empowering children with special needs, helping them build structure, confidence, and employability through their talents. When I reached the place, I was not sure where I would be useful.

My Observations

The hours flowed as I watched a circle of children clapping in time to a drumbeat. A facilitator lifted the air with a simple song or instruction. The atmosphere was light, almost festive, yet grounded in sincerity.

Here, there was no division between ability and disability. Everyone was part of the circle, bound not by labels, but by music, movement, and laughter. I saw a little boy hesitate on the edge of the group, his body stiff, unsure whether to step in. But as the drumbeat grew stronger, something shifted. He broke into a smile, moved a hand, then a foot, and soon found himself inside the rhythm.

In another corner, a child sat silently, absorbed in listening to the story being narrated. What moved me most was how no one was left out. Each child had their own way of belonging, and every expression — whether through dance, listening, or simply clapping — was celebrated.

An Evening Spent Reading about RASA

Later that evening, when I opened RASA’s Annual Report (2022–23), the numbers leapt off the page as living memories. The report spoke of more than 300 students reached through centres, outreach programmes, and online classes. But I had already seen them — not in numbers, but in faces, in laughter, in hesitant steps, and in confident gestures.

The report highlighted livelihood development — training older students in vocational skills, craftwork, and performance opportunities. As I read it, I thought of the group of young performers I had seen that morning, holding a pose with such dignity that the stage itself seemed smaller than their confidence.

Report on Post-Pandemic Efforts

It also described how RASA rebuilt after the pandemic years — balancing in-person learning with online sessions for those unable to travel. That balance of flexibility and care was visible in the facilitators themselves. Some gave one-on-one attention, patiently repeating a rhythm or gesture, while others encouraged the collective energy of the group.

Vision with a Mission

What struck me most was that RASA’s Theatre Arts for Holistic Development (TAHD), the brainchild of Dr. Ambika Kameshwar, is a vision designed to become an Akṣayapatra of well-being and self-regulation for children.

This is not just a method; it is a philosophy. Movement, rhythm, storytelling, craft, and drama are not “extras” here — they are essentials of life. They are tools to build confidence, nurture social bonds, and unlock self-expression.

As I stepped out into the quiet of Greenways Road Extension that day, I carried a simple but lasting inference: a report may give the outline, but the children give the colour.

Every beat of the drum, every line of a story, fills that outline with life and hope. RASA also encourages children to create craft products — beadwork, lamps, and diyas beautifully decorated by their hands. These are sold at outlets and on request, carrying not just art but the spirit of the children themselves. To gift such a piece is to share their light.

My first day at RASA was not just a visit; it was a reminder. Rhythm belongs to everyone. And when shared, it turns hesitation into joy, statistics into stories, and art into life.