When I was 2 years old, my parents noticed an obsession I had with moving to music. Potentially feeling a sense of relief that I had found something I enjoyed, they made it their goal to foster that hobby and turn it into a skill. I remember my mum cladding me in a bright orange and red sari and some of her old jewellery, before teaching me a few simple, easy to remember steps. She then waddled me up to the stage to dance to a well known Bengali song ‘Lal Tuktuki Bou Jai Go’ or ‘There goes the sweet looking bride wearing bright red’. When they saw the absolute absence of shyness and fear of a 2 year old being on stage in front of hundreds of people, I’d like to think they had a lightbulb moment.
“This girl is going to dance”.
From that point on, I have countless memories of learning hundreds of dances from my mum to perform at our community events before the relentless search began for Bharatanatyam teachers. I never understood it at the time, and all I can remember them saying over and over again is, “We want you to have a foundation, a base you can work off”.
Foundation? Base? What?
There were many attempts, and to this day I can count the number of Bharatanatyam dance teachers I have had on one hand. When I was 10 years old, my teacher’s name was Kala, she taught us the absolute basics of Bharatanatyam, explaining mudras (hand/finger gestures used to convey meaning, inner feelings and communicate stories in Indian Classical Dance), their names and the meanings behind them. Most of the time I just remember wanting to go home, because they all spoke in Tamil and I couldn’t understand a word. Eventually, life took an unexpected turn and she was no longer able to teach anymore. So then recommenced the search and eventually I came to my last and most memorable dance teacher, the late Manjusha De.
The one thing I remember about Manjusha Aunty was how much fun she made dance, through her childishness. There was always a tinge of abandon, and playfulness. Yes, she taught me more Bharatanatyam, but she would always draw in influence from other classical styles such as Kathak and Odissi, and every now and then, Bollywood. I don’t think I knew it at the time, but she was the first example of, what I now call, wholistic dance that I experienced. It was through her that I first realised how vast the world of dance really is.
When life took another unexpected turn, and Manjusha Aunty had to move to Germany, she introduced my sister (who had eventually tagged along to learn dancing with her Didi [older sister in Bengali]) and I to Jinnie, her daughter, who was a Bollywood Dance Teacher, and now the director of Nupur Dance Group.
To put it quite simply, I had no idea what I was doing. From being told to keep my posture straight as a stick to now being told to push my hip out, to shimmying instead of keeping my shoulders still and solid; the initial experience of this transition felt just like breaking a glow-stick to make it glow. By this point, I would’ve been 12-13 years old, and I realised then, the search for Bharatanatyam teachers had stopped and my parents were content with Bollywood.
I do wonder whether they were tired of looking or genuinely felt that I had learnt enough Bharatanatyam at that point and could continue Bollywood as a way to stay fit and active. But as I grew older, I got to see ‘real’ Classical/Bharatanatyam dancers, and learnt more about the process of years of learning until finally arriving at your Arangetram (the first time a classical dancer performs on stage after years of intense training). I started to wonder, did I miss out? Can I actually call myself a dancer?
Fast forward to high school, where I decided to join dance groups, and even study Dance as one of my HSC subjects, I found contemporary, ballet and the tiniest bit of hip hop. In no way do I consider myself an expert in any of these styles, but being exposed to it seemed to widen my appreciation of dance as an Art Form. I began to draw parallels and comparisons between Bharatanatyam and Ballet for instance, while feeling mesmerized by the flow of Kathak, the poise of Odissi, and the freedom of Contemporary. It was during this time, I learnt the word Choreography.
Choreography: the art of making dances, the gathering and organisation of movement into order and pattern.
Cue lightbulb moment. So this is what I’ve been doing when I was making up dances with my sister in our living room.
I was even more taken aback when during our Major Study for HSC (a component which made up 40% of our final HSC mark) I was one of the only ones among maybe one other person who wanted to do a Composition (Choreography). I couldn’t understand, I thought everyone loved to create?
As it turned out, learning dances from someone else, and creating them to teach to others were two very different things.
So ok, now we’ve established that I love to choreograph. But hold on, I never finished my course of Bharatanatyam. Look at all of these other dancers who’ve trained in Ballet, or Kathak or Odissi. Can I really call myself a dancer?
When I decided to take the biggest leap of faith in my life and start Ekta Creative, I really had to sit and think hard about this question. 1 year on, and after meeting and watching hundreds of amazing dancers on social media platforms and YouTube who also hadn’t completed a full course of a classical form of dance but still seemed to have exquisite dance technique, I think I’m starting to understand what it is.
Dance is Discipline.
It’s respect of the movement you are trying to express. It’s trying over and over again to perfect that one step where your arm isn’t quite hitting the angle it needs to be at. It’s sweating to the point you can feel droplets on your skin from rehearsing for hours, all the while trying to reach that unattainable level of perfection, that none of us ever seem to reach.
When I meet people from all walks of life coming to my classes to learn, I don’t see them as any less because they haven’t trained. What I try to teach is discipline, willingness to practice repeatedly, and to push themselves to be the best that they can be as artists and as dancers.
And it's this very quality that I now hold very dearly as we continue this exciting and unknown journey of spreading an appreciation of this art-form to the world.
