‘I don’t look at Kathak through the lens of gender’

How would you describe your relationship with Kathak?
Kathak is my worship. It has been taught to me by my guru as a divine form of movement. Physically and mentally, it has been very challenging, but the struggle and the dance form has nurtured my spiritual being.

What drew you to Kathak?
My guru and her art drew me to Kathak. I saw Payal (a Kathak-based television series, which was aired in Pakistan shortly before Haq’s regime banned Siddiqui in 1978), on VHS while I was in school. I remember being in awe of the poetry of her limbs. I did my first workshop with her shortly after graduating from the National College of Arts in Lahore in 2007. I formally started after I returned from New York City on the completion of my graduate studies in 2011. I think I could be far more disciplined, but I am working two jobs and that only allows me a small window to do my riyaaz. I try and make the most of that time, though.

As a Kathak dancer in Pakistan, what does the cross-border, inter-faith legacy of the art form and your taleem mean to you in the context of India-Pakistan relations and growing religious extremism in both countries?
My guru has always spoken with a lot of love and utmost respect about Pt Birju Maharajji, and she fondly remembers late Pt Durga Lal, with whom she had the chance to collaborate. She has and continues to collaborate with artistes from India and many other nations. I honestly don’t care much for politics. It has created such an unnecessary divide and bred hatred, and continues to do so. I can’t be an artiste and freely express or share my passion if I harbour these negative feelings about India or any other country, race or religion for that matter. I have been lucky to have experienced Odissi performed by the dancers at Nrityagram in New York. More recently, in Washington DC at the Dakshina Dance Festival, I was awed by Aswathy Nair’s Mohiniyattam and Indira Kadambi’s spellbinding Bharatanatyam. I can say that by just experiencing them perform, I have learnt a great deal. Art truly has no barriers. Kya Hindu, kya Muslim? We all speak the language of love and divinity.

Tell us about your new work, Shahgird.
Shahgird is an ode to my teacher and the simplicity she preaches. It’s about the growth I wish to experience and the improvement of each movement and gesture through hours of learning and observing. If we are physically and spiritually aligned, only then will our dance convey beauty.

You are also a yoga teacher. How is your yoga practice connected with Kathak?
I cannot dance without yoga. It is a very important aspect of Nahid Siddiqui’s teaching. She made sure she introduced us to yoga first and then dance. You need the silence and peace that culminates through a regular yoga practice to be able to convey peace and meditation through your dance.

The themes in your work might be identified in Pakistan as “having Hindu roots” – something that is actively discouraged by many clerics as un-Islamic. What keeps you going?
Kathak is very secular. My teacher has explored Rumi, Khusrau and Bulleh Shah alongside many other themes in her productions. There can indeed be a lot of opposition towards the arts, but luckily, Pakistanis have always voted (whenever given the chance) overwhelmingly for liberal democratic candidates, and that has given people like us hope to carry on. There is no room to make this political. Ours is not a tone of resistance but of utmost inclusiveness.

Is your being a man who performs Kathak often a point of curiosity or surprise?
I don’t look at this art form through the lens of gender. It’s a discipline that, unfortunately, not many men want to take up but maybe, in the near future, things may change for the better. It’s my responsibility as an artiste to convey this message.

When you visited India, what was your experience like? Do you feel safe visiting now?
I have been there in 2011 and 2012, and I fell in love. Chandni Chowk in Delhi felt like Anarkali in Lahore. My friends from Mumbai had such glorious stories, which I witnessed when I visited. I did not feel unsafe for a second. My dadi migrated from Ferozpur. My nana and nani escaped the riots while migrating from Shimla. I still have a few relatives in Delhi. The extended family moved from Amritsar, Delhi and other parts of east Punjab.