All eyes were on her that evening — every stalwart of Carnatic music and Bharatnatyam was present at the Music Academy in Madras, waiting to see if the young lady would take her nritya to the next level in the next one hour. She was far from nervous; in fact, she was excited to perform, though she had performed that particular margam (sequence) only once before. But she gave it her all, blending her stellar abhinaya (expression) with an effortless nritta. Just as she was done and her heart beat with excitement and apprehension, the legendary MS Subbulakshmi walked onto the stage. “What would she say?” the young dancer wondered. But the singer didn’t say a word. Instead, she gave her the biggest, warmest hug.
As 75-year-old Nandini Ramani fondly recalls this heartwarming memory to CE, she smiles with a childlike innocence. For that one moment, she becomes a shishya — not the guru of students in India and abroad, not the dance critic, not the Sangeet Natak Akademi Awardee. And certainly not the wise danseuse having a conversation about her life’s work with Dr Anupama Kylash at Saptaparni’s Smrti Kosha: Reinforcing Lived Legacy - ‘Who Am I?’
But when CE curiously asks the Chennai-bred dancer what she thinks about Hyderabad, she jovially says, “Hyderabad is a city with definitive culture. For over 20 years, Saptaparni has been doing so much work and contributing to the performing arts. Their library has a wonderful collection too, and I was tempted to snag a few books.”
Her tireless thirst for knowledge is something she was born with; as the daughter of Padma Bhushan Dr V Raghavan, a Sanskrit scholar and musicologist, the young Nandini grew up in an atmosphere rife with learning. What led her to dance? “Well, when I was three years old, I began observing my elder sister learn Bharatnatyam from her guru Balasaraswati. By five, I already knew the basics of the dance. I began learning from the great guru while simultaneously learning Carnatic music,” she shares. The little nuances she picked up in music gave her an edge in dance, helping her grasp Bharatnatyam well.
But she explains how the act of imparting Bharatnatyam has changed over the years: “My guru would start dancing and leave the technical parts to the nattuvanar (conductor), who trained us in nritta. It was a very methodical process; we didn’t sit and jot down in notebooks like students do today... memory was key.”
And praise was never part of the curriculum. “After MS Subbulakshmi gave me a warm hug, my guru came up to me,” recalls Nandini, standing up and proceeding to mimic her teacher. “She looked at me, smirked with veiled pride, and patted my shoulder in acknowledgement.” Her guru believed that a dancer would shine only if she always gave her best. Nandini agrees, lamenting that teachers today over-praise their students, which is something she personally doesn’t subscribe to.
Over the years, dance has moulded Nandini into someone strong, both physically and mentally. “When I was younger, there was one critic who wrote something bad about my performance. I cried and told my guru. She said, ‘Let him be. Do you think you have done well? That’s all that matters.’”
But Nandini reveals that today, the once-distinct roles of dancer and academician are slowly merging. “People think that if they do not talk about theory, they are less qualified. In my opinion, theory is just a supporting element — the focus should be on dance. One must learn its nuances, the usage of the limbs...” her voice trails off before she quips, “Theory is the skeleton. How long can you look at the bones? Flesh is needed too!”
Nandini’s wisdom is evident. She says, “Dance improves one as a human being and teaches you to respect people. I advise parents to initiate kids into Bharatnatyam, but do not force them. They must fall in love with it.”