‘Sem Mann’ is a tribute to the resilience and cultural identity of the Tamil diaspora

Sem Mann is a love story and within it is the essence and journey of a community that fights till date to sustain its identity. The story revolves around a Canadian Thamizh dancer, Kalavani Gunasekaran and the reason why she religiously practices her art form and spreads the history of Thamizh itself. The story indulges in 1988-89, a year that Kala spends in Madras learning dance. A love blossoms with a writer and activist Arjunan that sets Kala on her mission in life.

Shastram was conceived as an initiative to explore my own identity and gain a deeper understanding of the history of Indian classical dance. It was through dance that I began to connect more intimately with my cultural heritage and the stories that shaped it. At the heart of this exploration, I had been working on a series of 10 stories called Vesham, which delved into the relationship between India, Indian classical dance, and minority communities within the country—stories that had long remained untold. I am drawn to highlighting the invisible, those narratives that often go unnoticed.

One such story emerged about 1980s Madras and the untold journey of Sri Lankan Tamils and Bharatanatyam. This particular narrative is the result of years of research into my own roots, as well as the journey of Sri Lankan Tamils from the 1980s riots to Madras and eventually to Western countries. Bharatanatyam, in particular, played a crucial role as a cultural vehicle through which knowledge, traditions, and a sense of identity were preserved and passed down.

This story, in many ways, answers a question I had long grappled with: why did my parents—like many others in Sri Lankan Tamil communities around the world—ensure that my brother and I followed our culture and language so ardently? It was a universal experience I observed across the diaspora. I came to a bittersweet but profound realisation: because we have no land to truly call home, we hold onto our language and art even more tightly, using them as a way to declare our existence. It became a peaceful, yet powerful form of resistance, a way to fight against the forces of genocide.

I knew I had to tell this story. What began as a series eventually transformed into a feature script, and over time, evolved into a three-hour immersive experience. Sem Mann is the result of this journey—an attempt to bridge the gap between history, culture, and the art that binds us together.

Yes, it reflects a pivotal moment in history, when, following the riots of the 1980s, Sri Lankan Tamils found refuge and sanctuary in Madras. Here, amidst the turbulence, they discovered a healing space before eventually migrating to other foreign lands. In their effort to preserve and pass on their culture, they carried with them essential aspects of Tamil heritage—music, cultural elements from Madras, and notably, Bharatanatyam.

These forms became vital tools for practicing and nurturing their culture in diaspora. For many of us, the music of Ilaiyaraaja from the 1980s holds a special place in our hearts, and it’s a key part of why that era of Madras feels so deeply emotional. It was more than just a city; it was a sanctuary, a time of solace, and a foundation for our cultural identity.

Bharatanatyam, taught not only as an art form but as a means to understand our roots and who we are, has become an integral part of our identity. Through this dance, we connect to our past and our history, and it continues to be a living expression of where we come from—a thread that binds us to our cultural heritage, no matter where we are in the world.

Why do I feel compelled to merge film, theatre, and dance? These art forms have been integral to my expression for as long as I can remember. I feel deeply at home combining them, weaving together their unique energies to create something new. It’s a natural form of expression for me. I believe that bridging these different mediums is not just an artistic choice—it’s a healing process.

As a migrant who has had to navigate and build connections between different worlds, combining diverse elements feels instinctive. Each time I do it, it offers a sense of restoration, a way to mend the fragmentation and displacement that have been a constant in my story. These experiences of being out of place, searching for belonging, are woven into the fabric of my work.

In this project, every artist involved shares in this experience of displacement. Each one has been pushed out of their comfort zones and forced to find new ground. Through this process, we collectively explore the themes of fragmentation and belonging. I now share this journey of self-discovery and healing with everyone involved, as we come together to create something that speaks to the power of overcoming displacement and building bridges.

After 2009, the story of Sri Lankan Tamils living overseas took on a new dimension, one that is deeply significant but falls outside the scope of this particular narrative. If I were to delve into that story, it would shift the focus of what I’m trying to express here. I’ve already explored that chapter in a short film titled Touch, starring Kani Kusruti (of All We Imagine As Light fame). While I do have ideas for a feature that touches on this subject, I’m not addressing it at this moment. For now, I want to stay rooted in the story at hand.

Displacement is at the heart of the migrant story—the profound sense of not knowing where we truly belong. This is especially true for those who have fled from war and found themselves in foreign lands, often making stops in multiple countries, each time trying to piece together a new sense of home. It creates an identity crisis, one that particularly affects the children of that journey, who must navigate the complexities of finding themselves in a world that feels unfamiliar.

Having grown up in Western Australia, I experienced this myself. Art, particularly dance, became my refuge—my antidote to the dislocation I felt. I created a world for myself, a sanctuary that I call Shastram. In that space, I found solace and meaning, and through art, I began to shape my identity. The beauty of the story is that, through this process, I not only found my own healing but also created something greater—collaborating with many extraordinary artists to bring something beautiful into existence. Shastram became a living testament to how art can provide sanctuary and a sense of belonging in the most uncertain of times.

I believe Sem Mann has the power to foster empathy for communities that have endured the ravages of war and the struggle to reclaim their sense of self. Through this production, I hope to take audiences deep into the psyche of those who have faced such hardships, to understand the emotional and psychological toll of displacement, and to offer a form of healing for those who have lived through such times.

At its core, this work also seeks to highlight the profound role that art plays in healing. Just as medicine and doctors have the power to heal the body, art and artists have the power to heal the spirit. Art is not only a tool for personal empowerment but also a vital means of documenting our existence on this planet, capturing the stories and struggles that shape who we are.

In particular, I hope this piece resonates with migrant communities, encouraging them to recognise the importance of their own art and language as vital forms of cultural expression and survival. Through Sem Mann, I aim to inspire a deeper appreciation for the power of creative expression in preserving identity, promoting healing, and fostering connection across diverse communities.

One of my core missions with Shastram is to bridge the gap between these traditional art forms and audiences who may not immediately relate to them. I truly believe that many are missing out on the richness of such art forms, and so I strive to present it in a way that engages those who might not typically take notice of such art forms. My hope is that even if people don’t practice or delve deeply into these arts, they walk away with a greater appreciation for it and a deeper understanding of its beauty.

In the past, I have intentionally brought together artists and organisations from diverse spaces to collaborate on such productions—from hip hop artists to now, cinema artists with Raging Bull Actors Studio, and even Western theatre producers like Poochu's Productions. For me, this is about much more than just showcasing art—it’s about knowledge sharing. We learn from each other’s practices, exchange ideas, and grow together. By embracing a variety of creative influences and perspectives, we foster an environment of mutual respect and understanding, enriching both our own craft and the broader artistic community.

I am truly blessed to have some incredible artists on board for this project, each of whom brings not only immense talent but also unwavering sincerity. The support and dedication of everyone involved have made this journey special.

A heartfelt thank you to the Raging Bull Actors Studio, led by Jack Prabhu, Sethuraman, and Kalaiarasan Rajendran, whose expertise in line production has been invaluable. Their commitment has been essential to the success of this project. I am also deeply grateful to Poochu’s Productions, led by Denver Anthony Nicholas and Dakshana Rajaram, who have guided me throughout the theatre process in Chennai. Their insights and support have been fundamental. All of them are here for the sake of art, and that shared passion is what binds us together in this venture.

I’m incredibly fortunate to work with the talented Tharmeega Manimaran (from Toronto) and Swetha Jeyashree (from Chennai), who both play the role of Kala. These two artistes are equally sincere, hardworking, and passionate. They’ve explored acting across both screen and stage in this project, and their performances are nothing short of captivating. They are truly remarkable talents who should not be missed.

Our male leads, CJ Germany (a violinist from Germany) and Arivu Selvan (a theatre artiste from Chennai), have brought immense depth to their roles. RJ Nelu, from Sri Lanka, has also contributed his voice to this space, adding another layer of richness to the work. Each of these artists has embraced complex and challenging roles, and their dedication has been key in bringing the characters to life.

The music for this project has been elevated by the brilliant contributions of Sheik Meera, Durai Srinivasan, Harini Krishnan, and Nandhini Sai Ghiridhar, who have composed some of my now-favorite tunes. A special thank you to choreographers Sriraam Theiventhran and Shruthi KP, whose creativity and dedication have resulted in intricate and stunning dance pieces, performed by an exceptional group of dancers engaged through the Shastram platform.

We are also fortunate to have the talented artists Iyal and Kasthury, whose beautiful artwork has added a unique visual element to the production.

Of course, none of this would have been possible without the unwavering support of my parents, Shaantha Jeyaraj and Muthiah Jeyaraj, who have tirelessly worked to instill Tamil culture and values in foreign countries. And my brother, Gopi Jeyaraj, also a creative at heart, has been a constant source of support, always encouraging me in my artistic endeavors.

There have been countless other contributions from friends and artists who believe in this work, and I am deeply grateful for every bit of support. This project is truly a community effort—produced by artists and art lovers alike. I am proud and humbled by the dedication of over 140 people from seven different countries who have come together to make this vision a reality.