Daskathia.
The art of telling aloud.

Imagine a story arriving without a change of scenery. A voice begins; another voice answers. Rhythm keeps you close to the words. The journey happens in the telling.

Daskathia is a performing tradition where narrative, song and rhythmic wooden sticks meet. Its attraction is intimate: the listener follows people making a story audible, rather than waiting for a printed page to explain itself.

Two performers and a story

In his 2012 Odisha Review article, Basista Kumar Behera describes a pair of performers: a lead singer, called Gayak or Gahana, and a Palia who repeats a stanza and contributes humour, proverbs or questions. He describes two sticks played with the hands as part of the form.

Kalahandi district's art-form table gives a local example in Bhawanipatna, describing two male performers depicting historical and Puranic narratives. The table is a district description, not a rule about everyone who may perform Daskathia or a count of the state's artists.

For the listener, that partnership opens a useful question: what does each voice do? Attend to the telling, then to the response. Notice when explanation, repetition or a humorous turn changes your understanding. These are listening invitations; the imagined opening is not a report of an encounter.

An epic becomes a local voice

IGNCA includes Odisha's Daskathia storytellers in its account of regional Ramkatha recitation. Its wider discussion explains how oral performance gives a text local language and context.

That connection makes a familiar epic worth hearing again. A title you recognise need not sound the same in every telling. Ask which episode a performer has chosen, which text they draw on and why it speaks to this audience. A local explanation, reviewed with its speaker, can be as valuable as the plot itself.

Behera associates the form with Ganjam and recounts a devotional explanation linking the sticks with Hanuman's service to Rama. Treat this as an account of cultural meaning. It does not establish a founding date. The appeal of a sacred story need not depend on turning it into a historical certificate.

Pala is a neighbour with its own form

Daskathia and Pala can share epic material while arranging performers and accompaniment differently. Behera contrasts the Daskathia pair with a larger Pala group and its Mridanga accompaniment. Shared repertoire therefore gives us a connection to explore, not a reason to collapse the names.

Try listening to both with the same question: how does a performer help an audience understand a verse? Then look for what changes in the exchange between voices, the rhythm and the space given to explanation. Keep a particular performance's credits with it; knowing the form does not identify its artists.

Stories also carry public messages

Daskathia has a documented role beyond epic narration. Odisha's Information and Public Relations Department describes using it, alongside Palla, street plays and other programmes, to communicate government plans and policies in rural and urban settings. This appears in the Song and Drama section of its report available as Standing Committee 2022.

The passage records an administrative use of performance. It does not measure audience learning or tell us what every troupe performs today. It does, however, invite a further story: how do artists adapt a message without losing the force of a living voice?

Make room to listen

For a visit, begin with a confirmed public programme or a willing host. Ask the artists what they will present and when questions are welcome. If Odia is unfamiliar, a short introduction to the episode can make the experience more rewarding; a translated excerpt should retain its source and translator.

Put the camera down for part of the performance. Listen for the moment a response makes you reconsider a line. Before sharing a recording, obtain permission and credit both performers. The story you take home can then include the people who gave it breath.