Indrani
began to dance before she could walk. My mother made her stage debut at
age five, performing the role of Maricha, the golden deer, in an episode
of the Ramayana with her mother Ragini Devi and the dancer Gopinath.
For centuries the tradition of classical
dance in India was passed down from mother to daughter through generations
of dedicated devadasis or temple dancers, and nurtured in the sanctums
of the great Hindu temples. This ancient art traced its origins to the
rituals of the sacred Vedas, and its ancestry to the celestial exponents
of the dance, the apsaras or heavenly nymphs and to the gods themselves.
Oddly, this dance tradition - which
had fallen into decline and disrepute during British colonial rule - was
helped out of obscurity and placed on the world stage by a daring young
woman from the American Midwest. Born Esther Luella Sherman, in Petoskey
Michigan in 1893, Esther was convinced she had been a Hindu in a previous
incarnation and her mission in life was to dedicate her life to Indian
dance.
Read the article in the site
In life, you have to be 'somebody'
and not a 'nobody.'
This is Amma's favorite quote...
She instilled this in us (my sister
Meena and I) constantly, ever gently coaxing us into the innumerable activities
we pursued in our young days like dance, music, acting and studying in
that order.
Born in Badagara, a remote town in
North Malabar, in Kerala, as the younger of the two daughters of a leading
Barrister at Law, Amma was the apple of my grandfather Narayana Iyer's
eye. She was spoilt, so to say, to a great extent because her older sister,
Thangam, was older to her by almost 10 years. So Amma was the baby of the
house where all her wishes were the family's command.
Even in that remote town where there
was not much exposure to even a radio, she nurtured a passion for the fine
arts, especially dance and an old Ravi Varma oil on canvas where Radha
and Krishna were shown playing Raasa Leela was her favorite, in front of
which she used to dance secretly trying out various movements and moves,
to the haunting melody of P Susheela's "Gangai Karai Thottam Kanni Pengal
Kootam Kannan Naduvinilay..."
Read the article in the site
She never looked at the half-empty
cup, only the half-full...gentle, soft-spoken, dignified, she was an epitome
of inner strength and spirituality. The half-empty - half-full cup formula
only applied to life with all its vagaries and not to any of my activities,
be it dance, music, poetry, painting or writing.
My sternest critic, she was also
my inspiration, my guide and my dearest friend. She gently encouraged me
at what I was good at and firmly wooed me away from what would never become
a strength with me. I remember the gentle smile, I remember the mischievous
twinkle, I remember the uncompromising, firm gaze, I remember that look...
at times pensive, at times deeply inscrutable, looking inwards... a look
that I came to understand only as I grew older.
She
was born the youngest in a family of eight children. Her father, TS Sankara
Iyer was a leading luminary of South Indian society in pre-independence
Delhi, the first Indian to become Financial Commissioner of Indian Railways,
a visionary, a social reformer and a great patron of the arts. Her mother
Seethalakshmi, a nine-yard clad Brahmin lady who supported her husband
in all his social reforms, wrote songs, played badminton and was commented
upon as being one of the most intelligent conversationalists by the then
Viceroy of British occupied India.
Read the article in the site
Some memories live forever. They
remain by you – silent shadows of the past, they grow with you. Her memory
dwells in my subconscious like a protective canopy. For, she was one such
person whom it is not easy to forget. She was around all the time, her
wonderful personality spreading everywhere; she still is always around
now. Her presence exuded warmth and made the house into a perfect home.
She
shaped my life. She very deftly manipulated the reins she held and took
me unfailingly towards my destination. She became the master craftsman
of my life and executed her travail effortlessly, tastefully and beautifully.
She held my hands all through, lest I stumbled over the thorny paths of
life. She had understood what was best for me and led me assertively to
achieve my goals. She was my perennial source of encouragement, urging
me all the time to perform better. Sad, that the best things came when
she wasn’t there to see her efforts bearing fruit – it was ordained to
be that way.
Read the article in the site
My mother Savithri Sabanayagam belonged
to an era when girls had to live by the rules and norms dictated by society
– she obeyed her parents implicitly – got married and the story of her
husband and children became her life. She did not deem it a great
sacrifice but derived great pleasure and pride in losing her identity and
living her life through them.
Born into an aristocratic family
– the eldest granddaughter of the Zaminder of Chunampet and the eldest
daughter of SS Rajan, landlord of Madurai - she was brought up loved and
protected. She was well educated and completed her graduate studies
from Presidency College. She was married to my father Mr. P Sabanayagam
IAS who rose to high levels of power and eminence in his civil service
career. This opened a whole new world to my mother. From a
much cocooned atmosphere she was thrown open to the outside world and her
adventure to all the good things in life began.
She made the best use of this exposure.
She became a very confident, articulate and a people's person and made
her presence and impact be felt wherever she went. She developed
an exquisite taste for sarees, jewellery, painting, and artifacts and her
greatest pleasure was shopping for her loved ones.
Read the article in the site
Indrani
began to dance before she could walk. My mother made her stage debut at
age five, performing the role of Maricha, the golden deer, in an episode
of the Ramayana with her mother Ragini Devi and the dancer Gopinath.
