I’ve taken a while to write about Raghavan uncle. There’s so much to say, so much to process. People call and ask me how Mythili Mami is, how everyone is. And each time I talk to someone, I remember another anecdote, another special moment with Uncle. Because there were just so many of them in the 27 years that I’ve been part of the Academy.
A few years ago, during his birthday celebrations, some people spoke about how much he has supported the Academy of Indian Dances. For me, to say that he supported it is to put him outside the Academy. He was – and is – at the core of the Academy. As individual dancers, we’ve missed performances. I was not part of the temple tour of the south, for instance. But Uncle was there.
In 2013, we performed at IIM Indore. Several of the dancers who are now an integral part of the troupe weren’t there. But of course, Uncle was. He travelled with us on an overnight bus. He was 74 then. Did it seem like it? Not to us, for sure!
He was part of everything we did, rejoicing in our achievements both as dancers and as individuals. After each performance, he would ask me to announce that all of us juggle so many different things in life. He would come backstage to remind me, in case I forgot. Even if we were pressed for time, he wanted the world to know that Manasi is a chartered accountant, Tejashree is an architect, Nisha is a linguist, Ashwini is a software professional, Mahalakshmi is a PhD in microbiology … He wanted the world to know about us because he was so proud of each one of us.
And on this day, six years ago, we performed at our teacher’s alma mater, Kalakshetra. It was perhaps one of the most important performances in our lives as dancers. And of course, Uncle was there.
Uncle was there for Mythili Mami, naturally – because of how momentous the performance was for her. But he was also there for us. He was there because he was proud of us and was never shy of showing it.
A laugh rises to my throat as I think about how Uncle always, always believed that Mythili Mami was the best dancer of all. And yet, we were there. Not close, perhaps, but worth celebrating.
And it was not just the performances. He was part of our lives in so many ways, making us his own.
Less than a month ago, he called me multiple times to help him with a presentation he had to make. How do you put an image in a presentation? How do you share a presentation on Google Meet? How do you set up a Meet? He shared his passwords with us because we were his, and he was ours.
And so, how can we not mourn?
Last week, when I could not focus on anything except the situation in the hospital, I realised how odd it sounded to say that my dance teacher’s husband was in hospital. It seems so distant. It seems like someone whom you would ‘feel bad’ about and then quickly get on with life. How does one explain that with Uncle, it was never like that?
And so, today, though we continue to mourn, I celebrate everything he shared with us, all the moments that he made for us. I wonder how long it will take for us to start dance class without talking about Uncle’s vital presence in everything we did. He asked Mami to choreograph pieces he loved. He knew which roles we could play well and who was suited for what part in a dance drama. He fed us, shared stories with us and made sure things fell into place for us. Oh, so many stories come to mind even with these tiny phrases.
I can never bring all of them together in a single post, but I am proud and privileged to have known the man that he was: generous, determined, affectionate.
Love this so much! Brought tears to my eyes all over again… but a smile too! :’) I too have had to add the sentence – “we are really close to them” to try to give people an explanation for why this affected me so much.
<3 And as I read and respond to comments, calls and messages, I realise how many people are close to them, how many people's hearts they touched. It's incredible.
Yes, for the tears and the smiles. 🙂
I ended up telling everyone I had a family emergency – because yes, my “dance teacher’s husband” was just someone external, distant, removed from everything he was – and is – to us.
<3