The final mudra

Years passed and I became almost a member of his family. He never changed — that affection and affability evident at that first meeting remained an inalienable part of the man, whether he was playing host or cracking jokes with his little granddaughter, whose dance movements threw him into raptures. It was tough to believe during such moments that he was a legend, a world famous guru who had been bestowed a Padma Vibhushan.

He often talked about his early days in his village. He made history by establishing Odissi as a classical dance form, along with his ace disciple, Sanjukta Panigrahi, but he never forgot his origins. He began life as a domestic servant and, later, a mason. This dizzying climb to national prominence, he ascribed to the grace of Lord Jagannath.

Despite bypass surgeries, the guru was untiring in his sadhna. He taught his disciples religiously, guided the training programmes at ‘Srjan’— the Odissi institute he founded — and performed regularly. It was amazing to watch a septuagenarian setting the stage on fire with his dancing. The nava rasa came naturally to him and when he gave vent to his mimetic prowess one forgot his age. An man pushing 80 was immediately transformed into a lithe lass of lyrical beauty!

I still remember his recital with Pandit Birju Maharaj, a few years ago. Guru Kelucharan played Radha to Birju Maharaj’s Krishna and the audience was spellbound — the pain,the pleasure and the angst of love was so expertly caught in Guru Kelucharan’s face and movements that even Pandit Birju Maharaj paused to watch him with unconcealed awe and admiration. And such was the guru’s involvement with his dance that, although he was tired and sweating profusely, he still responded to the audience’s demand for an encore.

It’s hard then to think of this man in the lap of death. As I left his side, I again remembered Ghalib: Kuch to kahiye ke log kehte hain/aaj Ghalib ghazalsara na hua — come out, come out, people say/today Kelucharan has not danced!