The Saga of the Padmanabhadasas - A Glimpse into the Cultural Practice and Patronage of the present day Travancore Royals, Part 3

Śrī Padmanābhasvāmī Perumāḻ is the lord and sovereign of the land here in Thiruvananthapuram. Even while flying in, it is apparent from the skies that He has blessed this land with abundance. On landing, the small and elegant airport offers a royal welcome: the entrance is adorned with lamp-holding madanikās, distinctive Kerala murals, a portrait of the Travancore Mahārājā, and a sleek snake-boat from the famous races. This airport land, once owned by the monarch, paves way twice a year for the palanquin of Śrī Padmanābha to pass through to go to the ocean for his āraṭṭu ritual bath, as it has been doing for centuries. This was the condition laid out by the then Śrī Padmanābhadāsa Mahārājā Chithira Thirunāḻ Balarāma Varma when he built this airport in 1932. The āraṭṭu procession goes to the Shangumugham beach to participate in the ritual festivities along with the temple elephants, purohits, devotees, CISF (Central Industrial Security Force) personnel lead by the current head of the Travancore Royal family Śrī Padmanābhadāsa Mūlam Thirunāḻ Rāma Varma in traditional wear, with a green headgear and a ceremonial sword in hand. Devotees come to this far southern town from all parts of India, as its auspiciousness is not bound by borders. This is one of the 108 divya deśams, a legendary mahākśetra, and a pilgrimage spot that grew around an ancient temple not around a commercial hub, as is common.

Just as Perumchoṭṭu Udayan, the great king from this land during Mahābhārata’s Kurukṣetra war, fed the armies of both the warring factions; today too, annadānam continues in Śrī Padmanābhasvāmī’s name. On all the days, we students were also treated to the traditional Keraḻa sadya on banana leaves with other sumptuous delicacies including a variety of pāyasams. For me, this was one of the highlights of the whole programme apart from the dance workshop itself! One day we would be treated with the naivedyam offered to Śrī Padmanābha Himself from the temple kitchens, and on another day we would relish a special Bōli-pāyasam treat, and yet another day there would be a totally unique version with palm jaggery from the palace since it was a royal’s birthday. It was a culinary delight to explore such unknown rasas, especially after a whole day spent in sweating it out on our feet.

“Despite its famed tolerance, for a very long time Travancore headed by Thiruvananthapuram was probably the only country in this part of India where Hindu tradition, manners and custom, Hindu learning and Hindu religion were preserved in their original simplicity and purity owing chiefly to the continuous and prosperous rule of a long line of Hindu Kings from old.”

Chapter VI of the State Manual of Travancore, V. Nagam Aiya

Even as the world is witness to the coronation of Prince Charles as King, and many probably are taken in by the glamour of it all, history does not excuse the British Royalty of the crimes committed against humanity. Seeing their sad example, one might assume that monarchy and royalty all over the world suffers from such delusions of grandeur, and that power and wealth make most kings and queens victims of their own might. Such was the fall of the Mughals, undoubtedly either due to fanaticism or to narcissism. But there are many examples in India, of those who were just and able rulers; who were cultivated and cultured; who developed their kingdoms not only economically, but also artistically and aesthetically; and who ruled with dharma as their ideal. Brhat has singled out one such, the Travancore Royals, in Part 1 and Part 2 for a detailed look. Here in Part 3 we take you through a personal journey, of a first-hand lived experience, of learning dance from one among them.

“Even in the mid-1970s, we had a sizeable number of people who earned their livelihood as poets or singers or bards, performing Bhāgavata Melās, Rām Kathā, Purāṇās, Harikathās, etc. These artists were largely illiterate but they had an unmatched power to swoon thousands of people with their renditions and storytelling prowess. The entire society respected them solely for that reason, because they had that education. They carried copious amounts of our cultural treasure in their head and heart — the Rāmāyaṇa, Mahābhārata, stories from our Purāṇās, Kritis, Devāranāmas, folklore, etc. Sadly, their “educated” children and grandchildren became poorly-paid labourers in mills and factories or worked as waiters in bars and restaurants. But on the larger canvas of our cultural landscape, the loss was primarily twofold. These descendants not only lost the sublime and ennobling education that their forefathers had but their lives were not economically better either. This is how the destruction of cultural education and memory translates into, in real life.
This is savagery, not education.”

Dharmic Education in the Era of Planned De-Hinduisation of India by Sandeep Balakrishna

यतो हस्तः ततो दृष्टिः
यतो दृष्टिः ततो मनः
यतो मनः ततो भावः
यतो भावः ततो रसः॥

नाट्य शास्त्र

yato hastaḥ tato dṛṣṭiḥ
yato dṛṣṭiḥ tato manaḥ
yato manaḥ tato bhāvaḥ
yato bhāvaḥ tato rasaḥ

Where your hands go, your eyes follow
Where your eyes go, your mind follows
Where your mind goes, it gives rise to feelings
Wherever there is a feeling, there is a particular mood

Nāṭyaśāstra

And nowhere do the eyes play such an important role in performing arts as in the dance forms of Keraḻa. In Mōhiniāṭṭam, the dance of the enchantress, quite suited for ekāhāra abhinaya of a solo performance, the swaying graceful movements of the upper torso is accentuated. Endowed with kaiśiki vṛtti which is said to stem from Sāma Veda itself, expressing tender emotions in a soft manner, dancers imitate apsaras who engage in such sensuous movements. Also mimicking the abundant coconut trees in the region and the lush lulling tempo of the oceanic waves kissing the verdant landscape, this is a dance form that is not in a rush. It takes its time to establish itself, to fix its feet, and when it does, it allows the body to undulate to its heart’s content. With an all white and gold dress and the hairdo stylishly to the side, Guru Gopika Varma ji exudes lāsya. This is the gentle feminine response of Pārvatī to the vigorous tāṇḍava performed by Naṭarājā, the Lord of Dance. It is no wonder that this innovation by Devī herself caters to women of all sizes, shapes, and ages, to indulge in expressing themselves via dance without having to be lithe and young.

This is one aspect of Mōhiniāṭṭam that struck me on the first day of our workshop at the Levee Hall in Thiruvananthapuram (the erstwhile audience hall of the Travancore Royals). It was an unexpected reward to see ladies of all ages, from young girls to senior women, not being conscious of their body types while merrily making their way about the historical building, chatting and catching up. Just as the geography of Rājasthān influences its regional architecture, music, and clothing, with them being in harmony; so too here in Keraḻa, the land and its influence is evident in the innumerable dance forms and arts it has produced. The dance itself is not to be brushed away as light and easy. The chuzhippus (the circular exercises of the torso), and the chuvaḍu-sadhakams (the body movement exercises combined with the footwork) give this particular classical dance form its distinctive character. With elements of Kaḻarīpayaṭṭu and Kathakaḻi for body movement and abhinaya, with only the upper body swaying high and low while the feet remain firmly planted on the ground, there may not be much thumping of feet as in Bharatanāṭyam or fast paced footwork as in Kūcipūḍi - yet it is strenuous like any of its sister classical dance forms and needs a lot of stamina to portray spontaneous sensuality.

That Mōhiniāṭṭam is performed only by women is no surprise. The name says it all. There is no clamour from men crying discrimination either, wanting to ‘take over’ this space. Keraḻa has many dance forms dedicated to men alone, such as Kathakaḻi or Theyyam. It also has many temples dedicated to Devī, some temples where women are high priestesses (Maṇṇāraśāla), in some others where only women perform certain rituals or festivities (Āṭṭukāl Bhagavatī temple), many where womanhood is celebrated (Cengaṇūr temple), and some even where men have to dress as women to offer worship (Koṭṭaṅkulaṅgārā temple). This small western state, birthplace of greats such as Ādi Śaṅkarācārya and more recently Svāmī Chinmayānanda, exhibits a unique taste for the arts with a myriad dance, martial arts, and theatre forms surprisingly thriving under a communist rule. One of the reasons for this could be the continuing patronage and the shining example of the royals themselves, who do everything to keep art alive.

Having had the fortune of being under the tutelage of both Kalāmaṇḍalam Kalyāṇikuṭṭy Amma (author of “Mōhiniāṭṭam - History and Dance Structure”, the only authentic documentation of this dance form) and her spouse Padma Śrī Kalāmaṇḍalam Krishnan Nair, the Kathakaḻi maestro, Guru Gopika jī has gone on to create her own style which she teaches at ‘Dāsyam’, her dance school at Chennai, and in workshops such as this one. Married into the royal family, to Poorurṭṭāthi Thirunāḻ Mārthāṇḍa Varma - a descendent of the famous Travancore king Swāthi Thirunāḻ Rāma Varma, she is a worthy inheritor of both the art and the servitude that the first family of Thiruvananthapuram exemplifies. Hindu kings and queens are always known to patronize temples, arts, and crafts; but the Travancore kingdom is replete with royals who themselves sang, painted, composed, and danced. They were and are scholar-practitioners, not mere spectators or patrons.

It was a beautiful experience to immerse myself in this new cosmos - and that too with seventy other participants, dancers and dance teachers, from all over the world. The nature of Indian Knowledge Systems (IKS) is such that with a little bit of discipline and faith, it can take one a long way even in a span of three days. Technology played a huge part too: those who had signed up were sent the song and its meaning beforehand in both English and Malayāḻam. This helped us to familiarize ourselves with the musical composition which was inspired by the 10th canto of Bhāgavatam, to which we would learn the dance choreography. This rare kriti, a composition by Mahārājā Swāthi Thirunāḻ, depicting Śrī Kṛṣṇa’s whole life from birth to svargārohaṇam, was thrilling to dance to in the very place where it was first composed, the Kuthiramāḻika Palace. Originally in rāga Punnāgavarāḻi and Khaṇḍa Cāpu tāla, under the guidance of legendary Śrī T.K. Govindarāju sir, it was re-composed and recorded in Rāgamālika and Rūpakam for ease of performance.

The svarās and jatīs via individual videos were shared a few days before so that we could practise at home and perform them during the workshop. At the venue it was pleasantly surprising for me to notice that the guru and students both had a hand in deciding which mudras and what abhinaya would be appropriate for the various sancārīs. Through the three days we were also guided to an early morning darshan of Ananta Padmanābhasvāmī, to the Kuthiramāḻika Palace and Museum, as well as professional group photo sessions before and after the workshop hours. Many subject matter experts, dance critics, film-makers and speakers graced the workshop, not to speak of the two Princesses of the Travancore Royal Family, simple and humble, who spoke to all the participants and encouraged us to follow our heart in learning and performing the classical arts irrespective of age and other constraints. Gopika chechi shared the performance ready music on the last day of the workshop and encouraged us to be thinking dancers, to not blindly emulate her - or anyone else. The video of the whole dance choreography is on its way to each student.

It was very refreshing to see that there was no cut-throat competition amongst the dancers as is seen in similar spaces, nor was there any ridiculing or criticism by the guru herself. Chechi has managed to convey her passion and love of dance to her students without subjecting them to unwarranted homilies or advice. She simply lets everyone be, there was no air of royalty or of gurudom. As one student Neha Jayadeva pointed out, ‘she lets her students grow’ - unlike some renowned and able gurus who despite reviving an almost dying dance form from scratch, and teaching it free to students for several years, now prevent those very students from performing it on stage. Unfortunately for such gurus, blinded as they are to everything but their own decisions there is no thought or concern for the art, or for the students who have sacrificed so much, nor for their own legacy.

The three-day workshop began on April 21st 2023 and was inaugurated by H.H. Princess Pooyam Thirunāḻ Gowri Parvathy Bayi in the presence of Śrī Soorya Krishnamoorthy (founder of the Soorya Dance Festival). There were lectures by Dr. Kannan Parameswaran (Kathakaḻi exponent) on ‘mukhaja abhinaya’ and by Prof. Achuthsankar S. Nair (academician) about Swathi Thirunāḻ. Present also were honourable observers Śrī. Venugopal S K, Śrī. Vinod Mankara (film maker) and Śrī. Dinesh Koduvayur (founder of Gowri Creations). The valedictory function was presided over by H.H. Princess Aswathy Thirunāḻ Lakshmi Bayi in the presence of Pūjya Svāmī Śrī Hariprasād jī. Along with their blessings all the participants also received a certificate of participation.

बलं बलवतां चाहं कामरागविवर्जितम् || 7.11 B.G ||
balaṁ balavatāṁ cāhaṁ kāma-rāga-vivarjitam

Any balam (power, strength) which is free from kāma (desire) and rāga (attachment) is the manifestation of īśvara. It is bestowed onto me and I am the trustee of this power, I may be the user but am not the owner. Ownership is only my notion. Nothing belongs to me, If I assume so I will suffer….everything belongs to HIM alone…

This, the Travancore Royals have completely internalized, and exhibit this belief in their day-to-day behaviour. To be a witness on how they conduct themselves in everyday life and to learn from them on how to care for the arts and live a fulfilling life, to watch them pursuing it with sincerity, all this made me ask myself if dhārmika monarchs are not the answer to our cultural and civilizational woes. By giving up on them for a westernised notion of a nation-state called democracy, we have indeed been remiss.

And what is so great about IKS, or say a classical dance form like Mōhiniāṭṭam, that it has to be preserved?

Hindu classical dance as explained here moves from the gross to the subtle; from I, me, myself to Śiva Śakti. In any bhāratīya jnāna paramparā there is co-existence and interdependency with other disciplines, it is not a stand alone art by any standards. For example in dance, the following aspects play a key role: body engineering and movement, mind-body correlation, breath control, time and space management, self and team management, psychological health, music and rasa appreciation, costume, jewellery, make-up, stage production, exercise, diet, harmony and so much more. What we learn from it apart from the obvious sākśi-bhāva wherein the dancer can sense oneself as an audience witnessing herself, is also the ability to appreciate aesthetics, beauty, refinement, poetics, culture.

A consummate dancer moves very quickly from first person to second to third person, and then to no person when she is the dance itself and she has completely sublimated her ego and her being, and finally to oneness where she recognizes the aikyam of who she is in reality with respect to the cosmic whole. There is a spiritual message in each of the acts performed, they are not merely stories for entertainment - they are that too, yet something more. Humility is built in the learning pedagogy itself where one is reprimanded in front of other co-students even for a single misstep and there is no room for hurt pride. For those who take it in their stride, there is a lot to gain: energy, flexibility, agility, quick thinking, intuition, body and self awareness, not to speak of mokṣa, if that is what one ‘seeks’.

Julius Lipner has likened Vedic culture with all its branches to a Banyan tree, a species that grows wide and puts down new aerial roots that in turn become trees, and so grow into a huge polycentric organism.** ….The 1975 film Altar of Fire made by the Dutch scholar Frits Staal captures some of this culture of memorisation and deployment. More than three thousand years after the texts were first set down in this way, we can still see Nambūdiri brahmin families of Kerala keeping alive the purely oral form of the canon, reciting verses in baroque patterns, dancing out the verbal structure as well as chanting it. The time and chronology, the precise geometric shapes of the altar, the actions, the sounds and their grammar, all had to be exact. If it was not perfect, then the Gods would not reciprocate with their own gifts of rain, food, health, safety and sons. Sciences of perfection evolved around the ritual: astronomy evolved to calculate the proper time, and Pythagoras’ theorem was discovered (some time before Pythagoras) to ensure the bricks of the altar were set just right. The words had to be spoken in pristine pronunciation, metre, and linguistic form. Sciences of phonetics, prosody and grammar were developed. Eventually even the theoretical and metaphysical implications of these sciences came to be captured in some of the world’s earliest philosophical texts. The ritual inspired its own canon, growing from the small seedlings of action into saplings of word and theory…

The Vedic Cannon by Jessica Frazier, April 26, 2023

Nowhere is this exactness and continuation of ancient form and tradition more apparent than in Keraḻa, which has kept the vaidika sampradāya alive in its Architecture, in Ayurveda, in Temple rituals, in Textiles, in Kaḻarīpayaṭṭu, in Kathakaḻi, Kūdiyāṭṭam, Mudiyēṭṭu,Theyyam, Mōhiniāṭṭam and more.

Back in Hyderabad when I look out of my window reminiscing on the sights and sounds of Thiruvananthapuram, I see a mango tree caressing the sill, letting an unripe mango entice me, appearing luscious under the pre-monsoon showers accompanied ably by the call of the koel. I try my best to break out into a song, something original, instead I laugh at my foolish attempt. I am no Swāthi Thirunāḻ! He was inspired by coconut trees, banana groves and jackfruits. Sitting in his exquisitely carved wooden but spartan palace with smooth black oxide floors, from where he could spot the gopuram of the Padmanābhasvāmī temple, he let loose his imagination and ended up composing more than 400 compositions both in Karnāṭik and Hindustāni styles, and all of them in his very short life of thirty three years. He remains in our hearts through his music and in the songs that his direct descendent Prince Rāma Varma (a student of Padma Vibhūṣaṇa M. Bālamuraḻī Kṛṣṇa) sings today.

“Overall, the Hindu ideal and practice of education was designed to inculcate a sense of moderation and contentment in our external life by emphasising the cultivation of certain fundamental values in our inner life. This lends stability to the external life and perpetuity to this profound value system. The brilliant scholar, Prof M. Hiriyanna captured the whole essence of the Sanātana educational ideal in these words: “the aim of education is not to inform the mind but to form it.” Or to quote the prolific Ananda Coomaraswamy, “From the earliest times, Indians have thought of the learned man, not as one who has read much, but as one who has been profoundly taught.””

(An Imperative for Dharma Education for Hindu Children in a Woke Pandemic Era - Śrī Sandeep Balakrishna)