On March 30, 2007, life at ‘Rhythm’, Guru Narmada’s house, had come to a standstill. There was a solemn silence. We all gathered where Narmada lay sleeping eternally. The expression on her face seemed to say, ” I have had the last laugh. I am at peace with the world”.  As I watched her, I was reminded of a  famous ‘daasara pada’ (composition) ‘nagayu baruthedey, jagodaliruva manujarella hagarana madduvada kandu..’Yes, Narmada’s life was full of ‘hagarana’ (struggle), but she could get out of any trauma or trouble with her sense of humour. Dancing and teaching Bharathanatyam has been her solace.

If dance can rejuvenate resurrect, rekindle hopes, discipline the body and mind, and elevate one to experience divine ecstasy, it did all this to Narmada, who had to face many tragedies.  Face them, she did with philosophical acceptance. This is my tribute to her, a profile in courage, a dancer, a teacher, Nattuvangam guide and mother figure to her students. 

She was the fifth child of Dr K Rama Rao and Shakuntala Bai. Their house in Basvanagudi was an open house where many people sought help. The doctor was a good Samaritan who treated the old and poor without any fees, most of the time.  Narmada’s mother hailed from a family where music was a way of life. She herself played the veena.

Decades ago, it was taboo for girls above the age of 11 to take up dancing as a career or to become a professional performer. Some conventional and conservative families did send their daughters for dance and music classes. In fact, learning the arts was part of a formal education.

It is difficult to imagine the experience of a girl growing up in Basvanagudi those days.  Narmada lived on the road parallel to ours. Girls between the ages of three to 10 would meet in one of our houses to put up a ‘variety entertainment’. Still to be trained in music or dance, one cooked up some form of dancing. 

In the main hall of a house, we would create a stage; two little boys or girls held up a sheet or a curtain. I can still feel the excitement as we waited for the curtain to open. On one such occasion, as soon as the curtain opened, I noticed Narmada sitting on the floor in the front row. I still remember her big eyes and expressive face watching me ‘perform’ as I did some ‘dance’ . It is strange that this moment should be imprinted in my memory. Perhaps it is because she was among my first ever audience! 

Nagarathna, Narmada’s elder sister says, “we were all singing Bhajans and classical music at home since my grandfather was a musician. I was keen to learn dance but I got married at the age of 13. Naru was much younger and showed some talent. I was keen that she at least should learn dance.”  Narmada started at the age of five under Guru Kaushik and later with Guru Kitappa.

The remarkable thing about her was that she didn’t have the conventional ‘beauty’ expected of a dancer. But when she danced she transformed and her kind of attractiveness was brought on by her lack of self-consciousness and involvement with her dance. Her eyes spoke volumes. Her involvement was with her dance and not with herself as an entertainer.  Dance and music critic S.N. Chandrashekar recalls “ I have attended Narmada’s arangetram.  She gave the complete repertoire.  I felt that she had hurried her stage appearance as I thought she was too young... just about 10 years old.”  Kamala, her elder sister says, “we hurried the arengateram because of the convention of those days of finishing it before the girl reached puberty.” 

Narmada used to insist that I learn from her master.  “I get up at 5 o clock in the morning and practice for three hours in the morning and again three hours in the evening,” she said. I ran from there. As much as I was drawn to dance, I wasn’t prepared for the ‘sacrifice’ of spending so much time on practice.  I lacked the discipline and focus that a classical art demands.  This is always why I have admired both Padmalochana and Narmada.

After her arrangetram Narmada never looked back.  She performed solo as well as with Padmalochana.  The hard work and dedication behind the seemingly effortless dancing showed through.  The fast tempo and spectacular rendering in which the dancers covered the entire stage was typical of Guru Kitappa’s parampara.        

Narmada did not perform after her marriage.  But she gave a performance on the eve of her wedding. At 25, within three years of her marriage, she lost her husband and then her parents. Guru Kitappa, by advising her to take up teaching, handed her the baton of life itself to conduct her destiny through her Nattuvangam. The Guru’s blessings and her own efforts bore fruit.A girl who had learnt dance for the love of it hadn’t dreamt that she would go down in history as one of the most popular teachers in Bangalore.  In the early days of her teaching career, she would never refuse a student.  “I never scold them, not even correct them too often when they are new.When they see others dancing, they learn.  There are always comparisons and competition amongst them that will make them work hard,” she had said. She became a professional teacher and her Nattuvangam was  in demand. Chandreshekar says, “she knew the aesthetics of her parampara.”  She learnt to choreograph and she gauged the capacity of her students and taught them accordingly. In the process she was learning. As a Nattuvangam, she created waves as the field had been dominated by men.  Her voice had a remarkable qualitybut also a hint of bhava lurking in the rendering of the jattis.  

A student could go back to her and take up where she had left off.  She was open minded and innovative and allowed discussion.  I would visit Narmada to watch her teach. On a couple of occasions she pitched in my projects as a Nattuvangam and choreographer.  Although I promised to visit her often, I couldn’t make it to her new home. But we talked on the phone regularly.  Before she went to Delhi to receive her award she called me to say how happy it had made her. 

When Padmini Rao, another disciple of Guru Kitappa passed away, Narmada said “She has gone – I must now choreograph my exit.”  Always cheerful till the last, never complaining about her fragile health. If nritya, sangeeta and laya can lead us to self realization, she deserves a place in the heavens for bringing so many students closer to this sublime experience of rasaas. Let me salute this lady.  She should be remembered for her spirit and the  silver lining that she created for herself: her dance.