Republic Day: - Two States, One Telugu Story
- Harinath K
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
Maa Telugu Thali Group
This article brings together voices from our Andhra–Telangana community, who came together during the Republic Day celebrations to represent their culture. What began as a simple act of participation gradually grew into a shared journey—shaped by memories, conversations, and collective effort.
Told largely in the participants’ own words, the piece reflects not just what unfolded on stage, but the people and moments behind it.
It Began Quietly
A message. A registration. No expectations.
It began the way many things do—quietly.
In the first week of January, a message appeared in the society group about Republic Day celebrations. Residents were invited to represent their respective states. For Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, it sounded straightforward. A walk on stage. Traditional attire. A placard. Nothing more.
Shruti remembers seeing the message and thinking, “Why not participate and sing a patriotic song?” She even reached out to Asha to see if they could do something together. But once the idea of it being a group activity came up, it slipped away. Life moved on.
Asha read the registration message and ignored it. Later, she admitted it openly. There was no strong reason—just the usual mix of routine and priorities.
Himabindu registered with clarity and simplicity. “I thought it would just be a walk,” she said. “Traditional clothes, holding a placard.” No performance. No rehearsal.
Mid-January, the message surfaced again. Sreelatha reached out, asking for volunteers to represent the states. This time, Shruti said yes, assuming it wouldn’t take much time. Others joined with the same understanding.
At that point, none of us imagined what was coming.
What Sarees Should We Wear?
The first conversations were practical.
“What sarees should we wear?” Shruti asked.
That question led to an unexpected pause.
“Wait… is Kanchi pattu even part of Telugu heritage?” someone asked.
Shruti later laughed about that moment. “We wear so many sarees, but we didn’t really know the history of each weave,” she said. What started as a clothing discussion turned into discovery. Each fabric carried a story. Each pattern meant something.
Asha noticed the shift early. As Bindu and Chaitanya started sharing ideas, she realised this could not stay a simple walk. “There is so much to showcase and talk about,” she said.
Ideas came rapidly.
“Should we show a wedding?”
“What about a pooja?”
“Temples have to be there.”
“Food is culture.”
“Dance?”
“Tollywood songs will work.”
Shruti recalls how one thought triggered another. “It just kept expanding,” she said.
Then Chaitanya added a different layer. She asked if the act could also show what Andhra Pradesh and Telangana have contributed to science and technology—ISRO, Sriharikota, satellite launches, Hyderabad as a tech hub.
That question changed the direction.
Remembering the Village
Where memories of home shaped the heart of the story
When the team met again, the focus shifted.
“What should the drama actually show?”
For Himabindu, the answer came naturally.
“When I closed my eyes, I went back to my childhood village,” she shared. Not cities. Not roads. Just memories. Early mornings. Quiet nights. Sitting outside with grandparents. Listening to stories as the breeze passed.
She spoke about her mother drawing water from the well, sprinkling it in front of the house, and making rangoli on the wet earth. She remembered festivals—the smell of food, children waiting in the kitchen, pattu langas, hair being braided, flowers tucked in before walking to the temple.
“These weren’t big events,” she said. “This was just life.”
That was when she said it clearly: “Culture is the way we live.”
There were doubts.
“How will we show all this?”
“Will people understand?”
Himabindu explained that narration could guide the audience—that scenes could be explained as they unfolded. Slowly, the hesitation eased.
Village life became the foundation.
Tradition, Progress, and a Rocket Launch
Finding a narrative that held both roots and growth
Structure came next.
Chaitanya took responsibility for shaping the script. “We need a flow,” she said. “Otherwise it will feel scattered.” She worked on transitions—from science to roots, from tradition to celebration.
Then Himabindu suggested something symbolic. “Why don’t we start with a rocket launch and a countdown?” she asked.
The idea clicked instantly.
Asha proposed adding a fashion show. “Our attire deserves its own moment,” she said. She was particularly keen on this segment.
Time became a concern. “We have so much to say, but very little time,” Asha noted. The script went through multiple edits—shortened, refined, aligned.
Vijaya took charge of music and coordination. “The tracks have to sync with the script,” she said. “Pauses, expressions—everything matters.” She also handled registrations and props, quietly keeping things together.
Roles settled without announcement.
Many Roles, One Flow
When individuals stepped in and a team took shape
Rehearsals tested everyone.
“This was supposed to be just a walk,” Shruti admitted at one point. Office work didn’t pause. Practice didn’t stop.
“Shoulder to shoulder.”
“The V shape isn’t right.”
“Again.”
Bindu kept guiding calmly. “It’s okay,” she repeated. “We’ll do it again.”
Asha juggled anchoring and sequencing. “I have to remember everything in order,” she said more than once.
Vijaya paused tracks frequently. “The beat needs to align here.”
Between corrections, laughter crept in. Someone missed a step. Someone turned too early.
“From the top,” became a shared joke.
Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling forced.
For Four and a Half Minutes on Stage
Late evenings, missed steps, and learning together
On the day of the performance, the act opened with the rocket launch. The countdown drew applause.
The village scene followed. Harinath stepped in as the farmer—waking up, heading to the fields.
“I had to gel with a group of all women and still find my place,”
he said later.
“That’s unity in diversity.”
The devotional Maa Telugu Talli moment brought stillness. Then came the folk dances—Chittu Chitturi and Gobbi Yallo. “Once the music started, it flowed,” Shruti said.
The fashion show stood out. Walking the ramp in different sarees felt powerful. “Those weren’t just clothes,” Shruti reflected. “They were stories.”
The act ended with the Tiranga and a Telugu film-style swag gesture. “It fit our mood,” Harinath said.
Four minutes and thirty seconds. And it was over.
What Stayed With Us
After the music stopped
Afterward, what stayed mattered more.
“Dancing to folk songs became more than rehearsals,” Shruti said. “Every rhythmic step felt like a conversation with my roots.”
Himabindu felt she had rediscovered something familiar. “Culture lives within us,” she reflected.
Asha smiled about having ignored the first message. “There’s still so much we haven’t shown,” she said. “We’ll do more.”
For Harinath, inclusion mattered most. “I’m grateful they thought of me,” he said.
Somewhere between rehearsals and performance, the lines blurred. Neighbours became a team. A team became friends.
By the end, it didn’t feel like Andhra or Telangana standing apart.
It simply felt like us.
Beyond the performance, this story is about connection.
Through shared rehearsals and responsibility, individuals came together as a team, discovering that culture lives as much in everyday interactions as it does on stage. It is in these quiet, collective moments that a community truly comes alive.
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