O’ My Husband

Classical dance and its rich text and sub text

My young daughter who is an undergraduate in the USA cited a killing academic schedule which will not allow her to indulge in Indian art forms there. This was in response to my suggestion that it might be nice to try and start a SPIC MACAY chapter at her University where she already runs a meditation club. I felt a tinge of disappointment for I did my best to expose both my girls to the Indian classical arts in their growing up years; and had expected them to pursue them in a big way, as spectators.

However, I drew solace from the fact that I also reconnected to arts, especially dance, after a long period of avoiding them for various reasons. As a child I dreaded the Kuchipudi lessons and tried every possible excuse to escape them and for a long time later, I never went anywhere near the classical dance and music. But out of nowhere, when I was past the age of 30, came the urge to quit everything that I was doing for a profession; to take up studying performing arts. Then came the natural progression towards writing on dance, teaching in the dance department at the University of Hyderabad and now editing Nartanam, a journal on classical dances of India.

The umbilical cord with arts and culture never really severs. My experience was reassuring and gave me hope that someday my girls will resume their ties too, with dance and music.

Never the one to push my desires and ambitions on the girls, I let the conversation with my daughter veer towards other things. Suddenly the 20 year old giggled and asked me, “Ma, what was that performance in which the lady went on addressing her husband in a 1001 ways? I almost thought you were crazy to be watching it, but now I think it was rather sweet!”

She was referring to a recording of a Kathakali performance of “Kalyana Sougandhikam”. That morning, as I watched the recording of the performance my daughter was preparing to leave for her college. The scene was Draupadi addressing Bheema. “O, My husband” - she addresses him with a couple of mudras; “O, My husband” she addresses him in a different way; then came another interpretation; yet another one and it continued for the next 10 minutes…. As I was engrossed in the performance, my daughter left quietly for her college without disturbing me.

I watched the entire performance and was moved deeply. I was fascinated with the development of the characters and the story line, which was not new to me as the epics and mythology was the staple diet on which we grew up.  The skilled artists made a profound impact on me. It was not just an episode from the Mahabharata. The characters from different yugas come together- Hanumana and Bheema.  The humbling of the arrogant Bheema left me with the universalized feeling of my own ego being too trivial in the play of the divine in the cosmos. The characters came alive in their myriad shades, psychology, and demeanor which almost bordered the human and yet was celestial. The emotions which were merely human transcended from the mundane to the exalted. For me, Draupadi addressing her husband was not a meek and coy wife but an important part of a celestial drama; and she espoused in her character, some of the sterling qualities of a woman. Bheema was not a mere arrogant king but a seeker of enlightenment who attains his true calling when divested of his ego. Hanumana in his humble and weak appearance was the celestial being who led Bheema to recognize his own self. 

After I accomplished a few chores at home, I decided to play the DVD and watch the piece again….

Draupadi was addressing Bheema in multiple ways, “O, My husband”…

And, at the very moment my daughter arrived from college. She was stunned; and asked me with concern, “Do not tell me that this performance has been continuously going on for hours and you are still watching it? Has Draupadi not finished addressing Bheema, yet?”

That is the magic of the rich text and sub text of the classical dance which leads the spectator to innumerable experiences as he watches the performances over and over again. Every performance could open up a new vista for the spectator and every performance is a challenge to the artiste; to excel himself in taking the spectator nearer to the text and unraveling the subtext.