Magical moves

In fulfilling his calling, ‘The Dancing Afghan’ Fasih ur Rehman serves as a beacon of excellence in both art and thought, and seems destined to occupy an exalted position in the pantheon of kathak legends. PURNIMA SHRINIVAS examines the maestro’s art...

As the stage opens at the Watermans Art Centre in Brentford, London on a November evening in 2011, a delicate yet intense Kathak dancer emerges, whirling into spotlight with a surreal brilliance, conjuring up an almost ethereal vision. His art is illustrative of its period, albeit enriched with a meditative Sufi flair, exemplifying the frugal elegance and piercing subtleties in movement that typified North Indian classical dance in the Nawabi era. As the tempo steadily gains momentum, he follows in tandem, seamlessly executing the shifts in rhythm in a stream of eloquence and grace. 

The soloist centre stage is Fasih ur Rehman — the undisputed conscience of the Lahore-Lucknow Gharana of Kathak who gives his audience something in return for their presence — a love for his art, a connection to his dance, a belief that kathak belongs to everyone and that it deserves to be shared in its entirety. 

Born and raised in Lahore, Rehman boasts of a royal lineage, rooted in Afghanistan’s 19th century aristocracy that, once, claimed ownership of the famed Darya-e-Nur diamond. Paternally, he is also nephew to yesteryear Indian cinema star Saeed ur Rehman of Chaudivin ka Chand. “My ancestry, however, did not shoehorn me into a stage-oriented career,” he begins in his trademark gentle manner. “As a child, I loved dancing. I was also fortunate to have Achchan Maharajji’s shahgird, Maharaj Ghulam Hussein Kathak for a guru. He was a simple man, of clean spirit, making him easy to understand and learn from.” 

Under Maharaj Hussein’s able tutelage, young Fasih’s interest soon developed into a full-blown passion, later becoming his raison d’être. “When you nurture a genuine love for something, it engulfs you, making you immune to everything around,” the maestro says, recalling a pre-performance afternoon when he cycled for six hours to and fro to Rang Mahal to buy a border for his costume, blissfully unaware of the sweltering heat outside. 

A league of his own 

Indeed, it is that burning desire coupled with a remarkable tenacity to succeed that has kept Rehman going, seeing him through many troughs in his journey as a lone male dancer in the Pakistan of the 80s; finally culminating in the prestigious Tamgha-e-Imtiaz honour in 2006. “At the time, audiences were dwindling and organisers made demands to bring in female dancers to accompany my solo performances — to pique interest. That affected me strongly. I became determined to prove otherwise,” he informs. And in gearing up for the challenge to establish his sufficiency as an artiste, he imaginatively conceived a new form of beauty, masterfully personifying both male (tandav) and female (lasya) energies himself as a one-man army.

In his abhinaya, his ingenious portrayal of a female lover is as astonishing as it is convincing, earning him plaudits from every quarter. How does a man play the opposite sex with such beguiling intensity? “I don’t ‘play’ the woman, I ‘become’ the woman,” he smiles, echoing his ustad’s words with a twinkle in his eye. “If you don’t immerse yourself fully into the character that you essay and miss even one aspect; no matter how small, that’s when the whole act begins to look contrived,” he reveals further.

As with other art forms, Rehman’s kathak too has extended and evolved over time with a steady infusion of his own intellect and creativity, but it is still redolent of the old days, reflecting a characteristic simplicity and offering a heartening glimpse into the lost artfulness of Shri Achchan Maharaj. Elaborating on his own style, he explains, “I practice what I was taught — simple tukdas and aamads — all in a straightforward fashion. But, it has also unfortunately (with the singular exception of Pandit Birju Maharajji) become the polar opposite of kathak today where the focus is on layakari or rhythm. Yes, rhythm has its place, but the question then is to what extent you exploit it. Aap tabla tho nahi nach rahe, aap tho kathak kar rahe hain! (you aren’t dancing the tabla, you are performing kathak),” he says, matter-of-factly. 

“There was a time when the audience would ‘observe’ the finer nuances in the dancer’s ung (style) — in raising the hands upward, in holding and shifting glances…but, with a renewed emphasis on tempo, the audience’s task has now shifted to ‘listening’ to a group of machines perform on stage,” he adds. 

Beyond technique

Art sensibilities aside, there is a hidden thoughtfulness and wisdom that flows into Rehman’s consciousness and life as guru. He firmly believes that “all art, including kathak, should concentrate on its primary purpose of creating a positive influence on one’s life, moving beyond mastery of technique and the superficial allure of applause. The aim is not, as is otherwise believed, to get one ready for a show. Uske upar gaur kya karna? (Why deliberate on that?)”, he asks. “In my role as teacher, I’m happiest when I see my students gain confidence on account of kathak that will enable them to face life’s challenges, going forward.” 

Today, Rehman is a phenomenon in the West, having sparked a classical kathak renaissance across various European cities in a short span of time, in fitting testimony to his outstanding talent and extraordinary largesse as an artiste and mentor. Is India on the anvil? 

“Why not!,” he beams with an ineffable air of excitement. “It would be a pleasure to collaborate for classes, workshops and performances. Film choreography too, but whoever I train would first need to learn the ABCs of kathak.”

The maestro leaves a deep impression on me. I can’t help but wonder: for someone of so high calibre and accomplishment, whose artistic intelligence and inner beauty look so perfect, so pristine and so measured, will he reach the pinnacle in kathak, following in the footsteps of his iconic predecessors? 

Agreed that ascension up the hallowed ranks is not easy; neither does it come with a rapid-success formula. Critics, doubt-casters, and naysayers will, undeniably, have their say. Nevertheless, Rehman, with his messianic zeal, rare altruism and unflinching commitment will continue to dance and spread knowledge and light wherever he goes, fulfilling a vow he once made to his guru and enriching innumerable souls along the way. And, one day, he will lay all questions to rest, allowing his legend to endure. Of that, I am sure.