In My Opinion

The Value of Hindu Art Forms

How Bharatanatyam instills discipline,
devotion and connection to our traditions

By Oviaa Madanganesh Sumathi 

 At the age of six, Bharatanatyam was simply fun. And, of course, it was! For little ones, it’s a great way to expend all the energy they seem to have a surplus of while learning how to move their tiny bodies the right way. It is quite evident that it helps in developing fitness, balance and flexibility. “Healthy body, healthy mind,” right?

Most importantly, in retrospect, I understand it was these early lessons that instilled deep respect for teachers within me. At the beginning of every class, we would recite two shlokas. One was “Guru Brahma, guru Vishnu…shri gurave namah.” While being taught, we would try our best to stand still, with the spine erect, hands folded back and feet together. At the end of the class, we would touch the feet of the teacher in respect and leave.

Another aspect was consistent practice—which, as a small girl, I never did! Here, your peer group matters. None of my friends learned any classical dance form, so practicing dance every day after school felt unnecessary to me. But in a few years, as I made best friends with two girls who learned Carnatic music and dance, the seed of daily practice was sown, and slowly, the discipline of the same was cultivated.

Growing up, I began to understand the meanings of the songs we danced to. Bharatanatyam is generally set to Carnatic music, which has a grand variety of songs solely and soulfully dedicated to the Gods. We had fun just listening to the songs or watching dances or traditional stories being enacted. The problems began when we had to perform them ourselves—we would have to use facial expressions to depict various emotions and characters, and like most children, I was too shy.

One year, our family pilgrimaged to Palani Hills. I was just around 12 years old. After the long queue, when we finally were in front of Murugan, I gazed at my mom’s face—her eyes welling up with tears, glistening in the lamp light, her smile calm and grateful. Just looking at her face, I was melting away, like an ice-cream in the Sahara Desert, experiencing devotion, bhakti. After that, feeling connected to the Divine, I really began doing expressions in class. The more we danced, the closer we felt to God. And the closer we felt to Him, the more our dance improved. We began to find meaning in our religion. Our teacher’s dedication to Bharatanatyam was also inspiring. This was important, since while many were becoming “modernized,” we had reason enough to stick to our tradition and culture!

As our family became spiritually aligned, I began to find many insights into the art form. The training taught us to honor the guru and control the body and mind, a necessary prerequisite to transcend them and feel our soul nature. The dancer matures with the dance, and now I am able to savor dancing as a spiritual practice, a sadhana, of surrendering body and mind to Him, embracing stage performance as a seva, a service, to share the inner calm one feels while dancing with others. I think that is one of the purposes of our ancient art forms—they give us the experiential basis of our religion.

I do feel that it is a blessing to learn an art form, especially in a time when it is not valued as much, and it is difficult to find dedicated teachers. Many reputed Indian dance schools have developed certified online courses to learn classical art forms, which are great for children—not just to keep boredom at bay but also to stay rooted in Hinduism. If it is the lack of time or interest in learning, consider just listening to devotional music or watching it being performed as a dance—it really does keep you close to the art form and, obviously, to Him.

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