Legendary dancer Ritha Devi retraces the challenges and triumphs that led her to self-actualisation through the art form, writes Sutapa Patnaik

 
Occupying pride of place on her elegant front door is a tahia, the decorative headgear emblematic of Odissi dance. It is reminiscent of her classic description of herself a few years ago: “I look upon myself as the dwara-rakshini, the gatekeeper whose duty it is to open doors for those who wish to enter the garden of Indian classical dance.” And there she stood, internationally renowned Indian classical dancer, choreographer, scholar and critic, Ritha Devi.

She ushers us into her drawing room done up in East-meets-West style. The room overflows with framed photographs, awards and citations, mementos, books, and other symbols of her body of work. But one photograph on a corner table resonates louder than the rest: a very young Ritha Devi with her handsome little son Rahul, both standing yet seeming to support each other.

Indeed, Ritha Devi’s life is not only a saga of personal trials and triumphs but one inextricably linked to the resurgence and growth of Indian classical dance. She has rigorously studied all eight Indian classical dance forms from the best gurus—Manipuri, Bharatanatyam, Kathakali, Kathak, Mohiniattam, Odissi, Kuchipudi and Sattriya—but has had a passionate love affair with Odissi. For her lifelong contribution to this form, the Pune-based dancer will be conferred the title Odissi Ratna in December during the Odissi International Festival 2014 organised by Samskritiki, a premier cultural organisation in Odisha that hosts the festival in Bhubaneshwar every year.

“My relationship with this dance tradition has been emotional to the point of obsession, so much so that I believe I must have been a Mahari [devadasi in the Jagannath Temple in Puri, Odisha] in a previous birth,” says the 90 year-old. Granddaughter of Lakshminath Bezbaroa, the father of modern Assamese literature, and great-grandniece of Rabindranath Tagore, Ritha Devi was a member of the Indian elite in her time. Her father Satyavrat Mukhopadhyaya was an Oxford graduate, and her mother Aruna Devi was known for her classic beauty and melodious voice. As a child, Ritha was exposed to dance performances in the royal court of Baroda, which was ruled by Maharaja Sayajirao Gaikwad. The Maharaja, who had met her father in London, invited him to work as a senior councillor in the erstwhile State of Baroda. It was here that Ritha was born and raised till the family moved to Shillong after her father’s retirement from the state’s administrative service.

“With my brother away in boarding school, I was tutored at home by my mother,” she recalls. “I matriculated at the age of 13 and graduated in English and Sanskrit from Bombay University at 17. My parents then started looking for a suitable match for me.” But young Ritha was intent on fulfilling her dream to learn Indian classical dance. When she tried to persuade her parents, they stoutly refused, pointing out that it just wasn’t something girls from good families did. She would weep in secret at their refusal. “My parents were not insensitive to my wish but it was an age when the canons of society were supreme,” she says. “I just happened to have been born before my time.”

Finally, even as her parents were busy finding a suitable match for her, she arranged to learn Manipuri dance in Shillong from Guru Howbom Athomba Singh. “I was finally on my way to realising my dream.” Soon after, Ritha was married to the suave Indra Chatterji. “He was an engineer and ended up as vice-chairman with Mahindra & Mahindra.” Before marriage, Ritha had told him, ‘Dance is my passion. I won’t give it up.’ And although he promised to encourage her in her pursuit, she soon learnt he had taken her for a ride. “While on our honeymoon in Sri Lanka, then Ceylon, my simple wish to watch a Kandyan dance sent him into a terrible rage and he threatened to leave me there alone while he returned to India. Broken-hearted, I returned with him to Kolkata, where I lived after marriage,” she reveals.

Back home, Ritha became a socialite, the perfect hostess and devoted wife—roles she learnt to play to perfection. One night, when she and her husband were returning from a party, Ritha saw her Manipuri guru and his assistant standing at their gate, in the hope that their favourite student would help them set up a dance school in Kolkata.

This was the beginning of a new chapter and, soon, Ritha Devi earned a name as a gifted Manipuri dancer. Even as her reputation grew, her husband kept threatening to take a transfer to a different city that would inevitably put an end to her dancing. As fate would have it, her husband was transferred to the land of Bharatanatyam, Chennai (then Madras).

Ritha Devi was elated. She trained under the renowned Padanallur Chokalingam Pillai and learnt the whole Bharatanatyam repertoire in just seven months. She also performed her arangetram (graduation ceremony). Even though her husband periodically threatened to get a ‘transfer’, he had little to complain about as Ritha Devi played the role of a dutiful wife to the hilt.

When her husband was transferred to Mumbai, Ritha Devi was happy to return to the city where her career as a dancer had begun. She found her Kathakali guru, Asan Karunakaran Pillai, under whom she transformed from a docile society girl into an artist who was capable of holding her own. Around this time, sitar maestro Pandit Ravi Shankar, who had watched Ritha Devi dance, recommended her to various organisations in Europe. And, in 1958, Ritha Devi set off on a journey to Europe as a professional dancer for the first time—but not without a threat. This time, it was divorce!

Despite her husband’s angry words ringing in her ears, Ritha Devi delivered Manipuri, Bharatanatyam and Kathakali performances with aplomb in England, France, Germany and Denmark. “Wherever I danced, people liked me a lot,” she says with a gleam in her eye. She stayed on in Europe, with England as her base, for an entire year. But her husband came to England and persuaded her to return to Mumbai. “By now, I had stopped expecting my husband to change and I had reached a point of not caring about the consequences of resuming dance.” So, with new determination, Ritha Devi studied Mohiniattam from Kalamandalam Lakshmi Nair, Chinammu Amma and Kalyani Kutty Amma.

In October 1959, her only child, Rahul, was born. “The feeling was indescribable. I felt as if God had sent this helpless little bundle to me. As I set my eyes on him, I smiled and said to myself, ‘He is my very own.’” After a moment’s pause, she adds, “Maternal love is like water. It is always downward flowing and don’t expect it to come back to you. Just give your entire love to your progeny and be happy with that.”

In 1963, Ritha Devi got the opportunity to study Odissi. “In my quest for the ideal dance form that would answer the needs of my body, mind and soul, I had travelled all over India and studied all the other styles, till I found what I was seeking in Odissi. There was something in the dance that touched the core of my being,” she says. Her joy knew no bounds when Adiguru (guru of gurus) of Odissi dance Pankaj Charan Das accepted her invitation to come to Mumbai from Puri to teach her the ancient temple dance tradition of Odisha. Of course, she travelled to Puri several times to pick up the nuances of the dance. Soon after, Ritha Devi learnt the Sattriya dance, traditionally forbidden for women. “I was the first to take Sattriya dance out of its birthplace, Assam. I presented the sacred dance to audiences both within and outside India.” She further expanded her repertoire by learning Kuchipudi.

Finally, in 1970, her husband’s threat of divorce turned into reality. Now unfettered, Ritha Devi continued to enhance her reputation as a distinguished dancer, choreographer, dance scholar and dance critic in India. She had already travelled across Europe, even to Russia, to perform all the dance styles she had learnt. In 1968, she had even danced at the Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival, the world’s largest dance festival, in the US and landed an offer to teach dance at New York University.

Now, the world was her oyster and she let her creativity sing. Ritha Devi’s choreographic marvels include those based on Kalidas’ Kumarasambhavam, Meghadootam and Ritusamhara; Shudraka’s Mrichhakatikam (her favourite); Natya Shastra; Odia literature; and themes from mythology like Mary Magdalene, Bathsheba, Zeus and Leda. “I have danced solo to all of these in New York.” To choreograph themes from the Bible, she used fusion music composed by Pandit Ravi Shankar, Yehudi Menuhin and Jean-Pierre Rampal, set to the tabla of Ustad Allah Rakha Khan. Eventually, she returned to India in 2003, after the terror attacks in the US. “Life became difficult not only for me but for all Indians because of our skin colour,” she explains.

Today, at the age of 90, Ritha Devi continues to exude grace and pride. She cooks for herself and her son, does the household chores, performs elaborate rituals of prayer and worship, trains students, and never skips her daily three hours of dance practice. While occasionally watching dance performances in the city, she also writes on dance.

As we speak, Ritha Devi’s son Rahul walks into the room and her face lights up. A musician, Rahul lives with his mother. After a brief introduction, she says, “The bond between my son and me is so strong that I think he was meant for me and me alone. He and I are the only people who remain from that family. We have to stand by each other. He is the only thing I have loved more than my dance.”

As dusk approaches, a cuckoo calls out loudly. Ritha Devi flashes a smile and says, “Do you hear the cuckoo? The way it sings, it almost seems like it is calling out to me. I feel it’s my lover from a past life. I tell it, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll meet again’!”

Featured in Harmony — Celebrate Age Magazine
January 2015