A god who rejects war, a poet’s pipe dream?

In this centenary year of legendary musician MS Subbulakshmi, and the 80th year of doyenne Rukmini Devi’s founding Kalakshetra, I remember how these two 20th century artistes shared the vision of a 16th century poet — Mirabai. I had the incredible good fortune of knowing them — I was vocal accompanist to grand aunt MS for 16 years, and a student of Rukmini Devi’s Kalakshetra, the school of performing arts.

They were both revolutionaries. Inspired and advised by the Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova, Rukmini Devi learnt the dance form of her region, confined until then to devadasi courtesans, and launched an institution to make Bharatanatyam accessible to every seeker. Today the Kalakshetra Foundation is globally known for its fastidious perfection of style and aesthetics. 

She also invented the Kalakshetra dance drama. From Valmiki to Tagore, the content is Indian literature, so is the music. But exposure to western and south Asian theatres made her innovate new methods of lighting, colours, costume and group choreography. 

Both MS and Rukmini Devi faced severe criticism for breaking new ground. Rukmini Devi for taking up an “immoral” pursuit, and also, ironically, for “sanitizing” the sensuous dance of the devadasis. MS tried to forget her devadasi lineage in the bhakti music she made — including new songs in 13 tongues by poets from across India, their tunes sometimes out of the Carnatic fold. She learnt Hindustani music, tried an Urdu ghazal, chanted Bismillah irrahman with the same reverence she gave to her Vishnu Sahasranamam. She even sang an English hymn at the UN Assembly, certainly not her best music, but with best intentions.

I had written about both these amazing artistes. But this year I wanted to do something more. And I thought the best way would be to trace the ideological bonding between MS, Rukmini Devi and Mirabai. Everyone knows that MS became a national icon with the film Mira (1947). Few remember that Rukmini Devi’s last work was Mira of Mewar (1984). I had sung for that Kalakshetra production, I had grown up with MS bhajans. Working with seven fantastic young musicians was to reclaim gems from both repertoires in a music theatre production. Miradasi will be premiered in Kalakshetra’s beautiful theatre on September 17, a tribute to the three pathbreakers.

Miradasi was triggered by a poem where Mirabai declares, “Mhara man leenya ranchod. The Lord who relinquished war has stolen my heart. River and sea wash his feet in constant renewal. His billowing flags and banners promise freedom, his drums resound with peace. The Lord who rejects war protects the world.”

Listening to this verse as she choreographed her Mira dance drama, Rukmini Devi said, “That is what all true artistes do.” She added, “After all, Mira was an artiste, so was her God.”

No, the song never did get into Rukmini Devi’s dance drama. It didn’t have to. Ramayana or Buddhavatara, in all her productions Rukmini Devi saw beauty as a spiritual value, even as she invoked peace, compassion and freedom. Not for herself, but for the community. Just like Mirabai.

MS never sang of Ranchod. But the divine spirit she sang about always represented ahimsa, shanti. And exactly 50 years ago, MS made a plea at the United Nations assembly — “yuddham tyaja, spardham tyajata (relinquish war, give up strife, aggression) and prayed for friendship among nations (Maitreem bhajata).

As artistes working today, we too want Ranchod to steal your hearts in our Miradasi — not as music, but as hope. Can human beings abandon violence, as a dancer imagined, a singer prayed, as a poet once saw a god do?

The author is a playwright, theatre director, musician and journalist