A mesmerizing aarangetram in Hyderabad is proof why our arts forms will never die.

The following article was written for MyInd Makers. Pasting it here for reference:

A very dear colleague of mine sent an invite for the Kuchipudi aarangetram of both his daughters – Sindhu and Bindu. Now, I’ve never been to a classical dance performance. I had no idea what to expect at such an event. In fact, I walked in thinking that the 6 songs mentioned in the (beautifully designed) invite would be played over a music system, and that Sindhu and Bindu will perform to them. So, imagine my surprise when I saw a small music team (vocalist, flautist, violinist, and a mridangam artist) setting themselves up on the stage. I started to ask multiple questions – what if one of the dancers forgets a move? How will the musicians adapt? What if the musicians miss a beat? How will the dancers adapt? What would have been the level of preparation to ensure that there is no mis-step, literally!? And I began to feel a sense of excitement and was now eagerly waiting to watch how Sindhu and Bindu will perform to the live musical rendition!

The first performance was for a composition by Adi Shankaracharya on our favourite Ganapati. During this nearly 10-minute rendition and performance, one could very clearly see that both the sisters are not just immensely talented but also possess very high levels of dedication to Kuchipudi. The crowd had settled in by now (the Ravindra Bharati auditorium was packed!) and the mood was set for the evening. The second performance began.

The famous Ramadasu keerthana, “Thakkuvemi manaku, ramundokkadundu varaku”. The keerthana elucidates the 10 avatars of Lord Vishnu and basically asks the rhetorical question – What is there for us to worry, when Rama is on our side? By now, we have become accustomed to the awesome music team and their rendition. By now, we are also set in our expectations that Sindhu and Bindu will dance with ultimate grace – and as expected it was lovely to watch them enact the Matsya, Koorma and Varaha avataras. And then they moved on to the Narahari avatara. The tone of the music changed, and so did the language of their body. Towards the end of this avatara, Sindhu bent over; Bindu symbolically tore open Hiranyakashyapa’s torso; taking deep breaths signifying the magnitude of the event; her face seething with anger; the lights changing to red; then slowly focussing only on them; and then the whole auditorium erupted with what they just saw and experienced!

That image of the seething Narahari is now imprinted in my mind. And perhaps will stay with me for a long time to come. Bindu is probably 18 years old and yet could give such a breath-taking performance and make us all feel the exact emotions she was enacting. It was also at this moment; we understood the importance of the changing lights during the performances – and the same was evident for the applause the lights team had received. It took a collective effort of many people for years together for this exact moment to happen!

When the anchor, Muralikrishna, was introducing the fifth song, he tells us that this is a very difficult one to perform and that this act is typically performed by seasoned and mature artists. In my mind, this meant that there will be a wide range of complicated movements involving the feet (because dance means movement of legs in my mind!). Yet again, I was taken by surprise. The extraordinary grace with which Sindhu performed the multiple facial movements and the manner in which she communicated a lot with just her expressions was phenomenal. Sindhu is 20 years old and here she was, enacting some really complex expressions with such ease! It was then we understood why the anchor told us that this particular choreography is extremely difficult to perform!

Their guru, Smt. Deepika Reddy runs the famed dance school, Deepanjali. Her extraordinary choreography of the 6 different compositions was clear proof of why she has reached the heights she is at, right now. Even for a layman like me, it was so easily evident how awesome both the sisters were syncing their feet, hands and body to the fantastic renditions by the vocalist. There wasn’t a single wrong note; there wasn’t a single light failure; there wasn’t a single misstep, literally!

Some guests of honour were apprehensive of our traditional art forms losing out in today’s world but they were also happy that the packed auditorium on a Sunday evening is proof of the longevity of our art forms. As long as we have the likes of Sindhus and Bindus; the likes of their parents amidst us, I don’t think any of our art forms will ever lose relevance! My colleague, Mutyala Dorababu, is an excellent spontaneous speaker and he had the audience in splits later while speaking on the stage. Mutyalu in Telugu means Pearls. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if Sindhu and Bindu go on to become the Mutyala Sisters. For they have shown us that they really are – Mutyalu (Pearls).