I attended a typical Maharashtrian wedding on Thursday. A few minutes after, some recorded music began.
I attended a typical Maharashtrian wedding on Thursday. A few minutes after, some recorded music began. My mind automatically said ‘shehnai’ but to my pleasant surprise it was Carnatic music — first saxophone followed by the Nadaswaram. Soon the inexplicable aura spread to the entire hall, generated by the Nadaswaram or the ‘nayanam’ as one refers to it with affectionate familiarity. I first heard a delightful Revati — Mahadeva Shiva Shambho. The energy of the eternal dancer seemed to reverberate through. I particularly like the last stanza or the charanam — it is so reposeful and dignified, rooted in the gravity of the rishabha and the shadjam.
Deep down in the lower realms, to very soon go afloat on the higher octaves and spin the mysterious tableau that is Revati. What followed Revati was the unsurpassed beauty of the gem in Nattai — Jagadanandakara. It lasted till I almost left the wedding. What followed Nattai was a raunchy Bollywood number — had I remained I would have been benumbed by the rudeness of the transition, but I had fortunately decided to leave by then, with Revati and Nattai still resounding in my veins, along with the eternal message of an all-pervading energy of happiness and bounty. In a world increasingly disturbed by strife, parochial walls and intolerance, Carnatic music and its kritis send out a loud and clear message for those who choose to understand and interpret sensibly.
The passing away of Mrinalini Sarabhai marked the end of an epoch in dance. Elegance and poise exemplified, I remember this great dancer through two elements. In the 90s when I performed at the NCPA in Mumbai, a graceful silhouette came and quietly took place at the far corners of the auditorium before the concert began. And met me a couple of hours later, at the end of the recital to congratulate and appreciate. The graceful lady was Mrinalini Sarabhai. She was passing through and decided to attend the concert of her own volition, quite like a true veteran wanting to encourage younger artistes.
She was genuine, warm, smiling and waited unhurriedly to speak to me after the concert. This chance tryst with the great dancer remains clearly etched in my memories. With her demise, the curtains came down on the age of dancers trained under the great masters, who opened the path for other women to pursue dance beyond the confines of the then traditional India. In being traditional, she choreographed to modern themesand remained a trail - blazer for Indian culture. Her daughter Mallika gave her an adieu through dance at her final journey, which seemed like the most befitting goodbye for a person who had spent her lifetime for dance. A simple but precious book of Mrinalini Sarabhai on Bharata Natyam with striking photographs forms an integral part of my library.
Dr Vasumathi Badrinathan is an eminent Carnatic vocalist based in Mumbai. She can be contacted on vasu@vasumathi.net
