The maverick dancer

RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE

Singer, painter, poet and some more. A wizard on the tabla, a composer to whom music came unbeckoned just like the swirling rhythm of his dance. This descendant of the legendary Maharaj clan of Kathak dancers belonged to a family that was steeped in poverty but was rich in art. His ancestors honed their art in the courts of the Mughal emperors.

“They did it for money, but I don’t wish to dilute my art,” declared this proud descendant of an enchanting style of dance that he has carried to incredible heights. I was interviewing him in the guest house of the ISKCON temple on Hare Krishna Hill where he had a performance that evening. When they showed me his room, I found him sitting cross-legged on his bed with a bowed head. He was praying. I sat on a chair beside him and waited. He opened his eyes and asked, “Have you met my family?”

I looked around surprised as he was alone.

“They are all there. They go with me everywhere.” He pointed to a table where he had placed small brass icons of various gods and goddesses.

“Rama, Krishna, Hanuman,” he introduced them one by one. “Here we have Lakshmi and Saraswathi. Sai Baba of Shirdi is also my family,” he added. ”

He smiles and says, “When I dance, the audience thinks I’m dancing alone. Actually, I’m not. My gods are dancing with me.”

I asked him whether there was any other family to carry forward his art.

“Oh, yes.” He answered. “My kathak parivaar consisting of 168 families lives in a village near Allahabad. They too walk with me wherever I perform.”

That was Birju Maharaj, eminent Kathak maestro, who died yesterday leaving a desolate emptiness in the world of art.

An artiste of many parts, he took this dance form to great heights, transforming it from a mere courtier’s dance of the Mughal era into an inspired creation of rhythm and beauty. When he describes how the gods themselves are dancing with him, this exceptional dancer is telling us that is what inspiration is all about.

“My art cannot be sold” he declares. “It can only be taught and learnt by its devotees.”

Birju Maharaj was a poet too. Here is a composition which he recited for me.

Mein jungal ke lakdi

Mera koi nahi hai mol;

Adhar lapati Ghanashyamki

Bayi bahoth anmol...

A mere piece of wood becomes a divine source of music when it touches the lips of Krishna… Birju Maharaj proved it in his art.