A ‘Thomas Gray’ to Sensei Pandian

A  few weeks ago, a man succumbed to renal failure at the GH, Chennai. In a land where births and deaths happen daily and in huge numbers, this passing will go down as just another number; and in the

A  few weeks ago, a man succumbed to renal failure at the GH, Chennai. In a land where births and deaths happen daily and in huge numbers, this passing will go down as just another number; and in the world of today where dignity and integrity are mere words, and where, in many areas of life, one witnesses anti-values dancing in unholy glee, perhaps his death should be just that: a statistic.

For, Vadivel Pandian stood for values in life, conducted his own with every aspect of dignity that one could think of, and when he knew death ‘was nigh’, accepted the fact and simply went into its embrace. In life, unsung, unhonoured. In death, unwept. But he shall not go unremembered, not if we can help it, we, his students, whose lives he impacted profoundly.

Time rewind to the 1970s. It was the era of exodus, many Indians were seeking material fortunes by migrating to the oil-rich Middle East; and globally, movies based on the martial arts, Chinese Kung Fu in particular, were scoring hugely at the box office, and Bruce Lee had become a household name. And in Chennai, where I was teaching Economics, a colleague (Dr Varadarajan my colleague in the Economics Department) mentioned a young dynamic teacher of the martial arts; in addition, he was a scholar, too. In fact, he was going to address a gathering on the subject of the Indian Martial Arts at a hotel in just a few days’ time! Boy, was I keen! I took a friend along on the day of the talk. That evening was going to bring about quite a remarkable change in my life, though I didn’t know it then. Quite simply: Varadu [Dr Varadarajan] and I went, we heard and we were captivated enough to become life-long students of Sensei Pandian.

Small of structure but compact and supple of build, the speaker’s best feature were his piercingly powerful, magnetic eyes. He had an engaging laugh and spoke eloquently, with great authority and passion. In fluent English, he took a very attentive audience — quite a mix of the young and the elderly — through a quick history of Kalaripayattu, the martial form of Kerala. We were pleasantly — and proudly — surprised to learn of the Indian origins of Kung Fu; and that Chinese Kung Fu is actually Indian in origin. And so on.

During the Q & A that followed, it was inevitable that he should be asked repeatedly — was he holding regular classes? Would he start fresh sessions?
Start fresh classes he did, but only after being thoroughly satisfied we were all seriously interested, and that we were mature enough never to put our knowledge to any wrong use.
From then on, for many years, for a princely monthly fee of `25 from each student, the  Sensei taught us priceless knowledge. We found him quite an encyclopaedia of fabulous knowledge when it came to the fighting arts of the world.

And the classes! Lessons and techniques, to be repeated several tens of times till they became second nature; classes would always be in the semi gloom of dusk. And not for Pandian any formal dojo (special training centre) or fancy uniforms — of course we were a formally registered body with the name Bodhidharma Martial Arts Academy, we did have uniforms tailored with a lovely logo displayed prominently on the kurta-like top. But in general, lessons were to be learnt in our everyday attire (“otherwise, the mind gets conditioned to wearing a uniform.

When confronted by danger in real life, will you ask for the attacker to wait while you donned your self-defence dress?”, he would scoff!)
For the record, we were taught Jiu Jitsu, basic and advanced techniques, sufficient to qualify for a black belt, but Sensei was not one who believed in “belt Jiu Jitsu”! But I must talk about the creative side to Pandian, so let me move to Pandian2.0, so to speak.
In his researches and studies, Pandian had established the martial foundations of dance — “when settled life had come to be, the martial had to morph into, give way to, the gentle performing arts”, was his conclusion.

Deep in South Chennai, dancer-choreographer Chandralekha, through her own studies, had also come to believe firmly in material foundations to Bharatanatyam.
It was in the fitness of things that Sensei and choreographer should meet!
Chandralekha’s second coming (after a long self-imposed hiatus) opened with a superbly choreographed signature production, “ANGIKA”. A production in three parts, it was a runaway success both in India and abroad. The very opening segment, highlighting the martial base to Bharatanatyam, was choreographed by the dancer, but created by the Sensei. I was part of the overall group as both performer and Yoga Resource Person.

I was amazed by the skill and speed with which master created the martial sequences, the Sutra-Sollukkattus (martial instructions). Quite like Veda Vyasa, he dictated in a cascading flow. Not being Ganapati, I had to stop him mid-stride several times in an effort to catch up, such was his electric energy!
Formal lessons with the Sensei ended in 1985, but I kept in touch with him almost till the end. Saddened  by plummeting values among the youth of GenNext, Pandian sir stopped teaching the noble art of self-defence; and on the 4th of March last, marched to meet The Maker.
PS: Sensei Pandian and me had written some 20 articles in the Sunday Standard of the Express group combining yoga and martial arts. Express was the only paper that recognised the greatness of Pandian who sought no glory for himself ever.
(The author was a professor of Economics in Vivekananda College, Chennai)

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