In conversation with Bharatanatyam exponent Dr. Narthaki Nataraj.

By Dr. Lata Surendra 

Narthaki Nataraj has many firsts to her credit. She is the first trans woman to be awarded the Padma Shri and the first to be a member of the State Development Policy Council (SDPC) of the Government of Tamil Nadu. Born in 1964 in Anuppanadi, a remote village in the district of Madurai, she forsook her home due to lack of support from her parents when she was going through a gender identity crisis. Thirty years later, she holds a unique place in society. A recipient of the Kalaimamani award bestowed upon her by the Government of Tamil Nadu and a Senior Fellowship from the Government of India, among other honours, her success story can be found in school textbooks with an aim to sensitise young minds to the transgender community. She stands tall as a consummate Bharatanatyam exponent, teacher and now policymaker. Being on the fringes of what is generally considered ‘normal’, she laughs as she highlights with pride that she has received these awards because she is an accomplished artiste, and not because she is a trans woman. Throughout my conversation with her, there was no trace of bitterness against the world for the manner in which it has treated her. Instead, there is compassion for a society chained by its own prejudices. To be in conversation with her was to be one with the placid, unhurried flow of life; full of experiences urging one to breathe in life as a mystic. A life adorned with poetry and music, and the transformative power of sorrow that has one transcend illusive walls and smile with the Creator.

She answered my questions in a mix of impeccable Tamil and English. The latter, she said, is important as she frequently travels for performance around the world.

What was the transition from Nataraj to Narthaki Nataraj like?
My reactions to the poetry unfolding around me were never like that of a man. I always felt the gentle feminine urges that I imagined the girls around me had. I was never aggressive. I loved to be amidst girls, my aunts and female cousins. I was drawn to ornaments, make-up and dressing up. I always felt the feminine within me—an instinct that I am a beautiful female child created by the almighty. Nan oru azhgana pennu.

I have never done anything to externally change my body to suit my stateof mind because my soul and jeeva was prakruti incarnate, not a purusha. As artistes, we are always transcending generic folds. If an artiste says she is emoting specifically as a female or carries her femininity onstage, she is not a true artiste. Onstage, I am an artiste above all else. That is my answer to all.

But my parents, noticing my behaviour, rejected me totally. They were tired of hearing about my performances at events and I was often spanked and taken to task for it. I did not know any formal dance then, but I used to watch late-night Tamil films with my childhood friend Sakthi Bhaskar. I used to imagine that I was the heroine I saw on-screen, be it Padmini, Vyjayanthimala or Kamala, and later I would imitate them in my performances. It was always Sakthi who used to help with these performances, and with the make-up and costume related to each that was stashed away in various hideouts. It was an elderly relative who noticed my talent and took me to Namanur Jeyaraman from Thanjavur bani when I was barely twelve. Sakthi took care of my fees as she had started working in her family business by then. Against all odds and surfing through the adventures that came my way, I did my arangetram in Madurai under Jeyaraman. Being a great fan of Vyjayanthimala, I wished to learn from her guru, Kittappa Pillai, but I had no idea how to find him until I chanced upon a magazine that showcased him receiving the Isai Perarignar Award. The article said that he was in Thanjavur. We rushed to the city with one objective in mind—we had to become his disciples.

Could you describe the first moment you met your guru? What was his reaction to meeting you?
Can you imagine Sakthi and me in garish make-up, cheap lipstick, with hair curled rustically by us in the style of Padmini and other Tamil actresses of the time? We had no awareness of social decorum nor the humility so vital for artistes. Full of ourselves as popular entertainers in our village, we proclaimed to a ‘vadhyar’ sitting in front of us on the parapet eating a paan that we were ‘bamous’ dancers. We were stunned when we realised that he was our sakshaat guru. He had a strange twinkle in his eyes and an amused look when he asked us to dance. We seized the moment because it was dance that gave us joy. After a year of putting together the means to see him at various venues—at performances by Sudharani [Raghupathy], Vyjayanthimala and his other disciples—our dream came true and he accepted us as his disciples. From 1985 to 1999, in fact all through my gurukulavasam, he never failed to laugh aloud at the memory of the bizarre sight of Sakthi and me at our first meeting with him. It was he who christened me ‘Narthaki Nataraj’. He accepted us when all around we were only confronted with stone-hearted human beings who hurled brickbats at us.

How did he respond to people who visited him out of curiosity on hearing about you?
He was known for his wisdom and people looked up to him. Opinions never mattered to him because he was above worldly pettiness. I would be asked to showcase a jathiswaram or thillana or padam because actions endorse the why better than words. After class, I would open my heart out to him. I used to voice my fears, anxieties, the rejection from society around me, my gender issues and he would very calmly ask me to concentrate on my performance. He would tell me that one day, I would shine. He remains my idol, be it as a vocalist, as a mridangam vidwan, as a nattuvanar, as a choreographer. In fact, he is truly my God who gave me back unto myself. He gave Sakthi and me a shelter—and anchorage— when we were like boats adrift at sea. He awakened us to our exclusiveness. I can still hear him say to us, “You do what you do with your beauty, with your goodness. This will suit you.” He knew what was best for each of his student; that what would suit Vyjayanthi was different from his approach for Sudha or Yamini [Krishnamurthy], or that Sucheta [Chapekar] would be happy performing to Marathi abhangas. He would encourage us like that, nurture our uniqueness, which is why even though we are all Kittappa Pillai’s disciples and have learnt a lot from him, we are different with our own signatures, draping his bequeathed wealth of knowledge in our own way. It was he who urged me to research Nayaki Bhavam and, knowing intuitively about his end, gave me a testimonial in 1995 to help further my dance career. That testimonial remains my most cherished possession. Being his disciple helped me a lot as I opened my dance school Narthaki Nritya Kalalaya in 1989. By then, it was a known fact that I was the disciple of a great vidwan and a custodian of his legacy, and that attracted seeking feet to the temple that is my institution, which resonates with his wisdom.

Can you elaborate on the Nayaki Bhavam? Did your innate femininity help in portraying its wide context onstage?
The Nayaki Bhavam  serves as a bridge for my devotion to art and to God, and brings me great joy and ecstasy. It enables me to mirror my feminine identity. Our spiritual search fundamentally revolves around the concept of a single supreme force that is neither male nor female, although this ultimate power is worshipped as Ardhanari in Shaivism and Vishnu as the sole supreme male according to Vaishnavism. In the performing arts, particularly in Indian classical dance traditions, this is represented as ‘heroine’ (nayika) or ‘hero’ (nayaka). Their inter-relationship and its emotional manifestations range from devotion (bhakti) to romance (shringara) to eroticism. This is also known as Nayika or Nayaki Bhava, Madhura Bhakti, Madhurya Bhakti or a “divine transgender state of the lovelorn” No artiste goes onstage with a feminine or masculine identity. It is the artha that we explore that is vital and which connects this longing as art with the hearts of rasikas beyond geographic boundaries.

As a member of the State Development Policy Council of the Tamil Nadu Government, do you see yourself as a representative of the LGBTQIA+ community or as an artiste with a voice for all artistes?
As an artiste, I am giving voice to a message that is universal. Of course, I see myself as an artiste but to others I am still a trans woman. Many sabhas outside Chennai do not call me for a performance because they have members who object to and have reservations about my very identity. Today I am in a position to pursue many goals in Tamil Nadu and with the chair, I have a responsibility towards the people I represent. The LGBTQIA+ community also belongs to this world and needs to be accorded dignity and rights like everyone else. My being in the position that I am in has me seeking solutions related not only to artistic concerns but the creases that need to be ironed out in day-to-day life to make my state a better place for all communities.

This is also the objective of my Velliyambalam Trust. Sakthi and I enlighten many Indian and foreign students on the traditional repertoire handed down to us by our guru. Sharing what we have imbibed with the world is our aim.

What is your message for the young people of today?
Art must be preserved by the artiste and propagated honestly. Receive all art and artistes with an open heart. Do not be judgmental and follow the herd. We all have a song to sing and a dance to dance as per tradition, but we also have the freedom to do it dressed in our own way. We must observe, assimilate and share our gathered treasure. My treasure is what my guru taught me. If someone wishes for a workshop in which they want me to share that with interested artistes, I will happily do so. If someone wishes that I share the treasure through a performance that touches witnessing humanity, I will gladly do that too. I am eagerly looking forward to the residency at the NCPA in October. I am grateful to this great organisation that is doing much for art and artistes and to Dr. Swapnokalpa Dasgupta for this opportunity to share some pearls from my treasury.

When you look back at your life journey, do you feel there is something you could change if given the chance?
We cannot go back even if we want to. We mirror each other—Sakthi and I. I am the same 11-year-old Nataraj they sent away. Today, my mom and dad are no more and neither are my older brothers who pushed me away. Their children ask, why did periamma (aunt) go away? They are told that we were young and did not know better. The kids are loving towards me, and I see our own naïve, unpolished nature in them. Sakthi and I will never be swayed by life’s ebbs and flows because we are very comfortable where we are. God has given us the identity that we are destined to be today. We have come a long way and what we have been accorded, we did not demand aggressively. We only wished for it with a lot of love, faith and courage. We have a life and a job we love, and we love the art we share with the world. How many people are blessed with that?

Her soft voice resonated in the silence around me. Indeed, how many are blessed to realise a bequeathed life as a benediction? She has seen providence in her guru, heard him, felt his concern for her. She has breathed his legacy into her art and shares his wealth blissfully with those who seek her out. She has Sakthi as her pillar of strength and an identity that transcends gender. What a complete nayika, exultant in her own feminity.

A lecture-demonstration by Dr. Narthaki Nataraj will be presented on 22nd October at the Little Theatre. She will also conduct a masterclass on 23rd and 24th October in the Tata Elevator Block.

This article was originally published in the October 2024 issue of ON Stage.