I think with her, life and dance had no border. It was a seamless road from mother to guru. I always used to say Natya Institute (the Natya Institute of Kathak and Choreography) was my oldest sibling, five years older than me. I grew up in greenrooms, surrounded by dance. I was saturated with dance, and left it for five years, between (the ages of) 14 and 19, until in 1990 the Sangeet Natak Akademi organised workshops by the American Dance Festival faculty, and I called her up and said, “Ma, can I learn choreography?”
She told me I would have to make a choice between making money and pursuing my dance. I made the choice and I have never regretted it.
I feel proud to be born of a mother who also was my guru. She taught that an experience was more important than any societal pressure. When I was in 10th standard, I had my pre-Boards. We were surrounded by the babu culture — everyone wanted to be an IAS officer. I was very worried about my exams. The Bolshoi ballet was going to perform. She said, come to see them, and I said, I have my exam tomorrow. She said, “They may never return. There may be no Soviet Union in a few years. Even if you fail your exam (it can be redone, but) this opportunity will not come again.” And she was right. In two years, the Soviet Union split up. We never missed a show. Whether fusion, jazz, contemporary….
She was my best friend. Till the last minute (of her life), she kept talking of dance. For example, she told a student, “Madhu is insisting on taking me for another test, so you take charge of the rehearsal.” Or she would say, “Let’s keep rehearsals at home because I don’t want to focus on the pain.”
She never recommended me for a show in her life. And she never asked for a show. She was very old school in some ways. She didn’t like to talk about her work. So we, of the next generation, took it on ourselves to let the world know about her work.
Every single place I went to, someone would come and say, Maya Didi touched me, as a student, through a talk, a workshop….
She was responsible for putting a repertoire to Kathak. It used to be all upaj-based. She would make suggestions to (her guru) Shambhu Maharajji and he listened. She was (receptive) like that with us too. She insisted on performing abhinaya, though her guru said, “ Is se taliyan nahin bajteen (this won’t draw applause).” She believed there was no point without it.
One thing I learnt from her was, you have to earn your food. There was no concept of lazing around. She didn’t want to be with people her age. She would say, “They’re always talking about arthritis, khaane mein kya banaaya . I want to be with young people, know what’s on YouTube…”
She was a victim of so much political ire, but she never complained, just immersed herself in dance. She taught me to be strong but not aggressive, to not lose your feminity and find a perfect balance between your family, friends and dance. She used to say, the goodwill is the only thing we take back with us.
She could not separate her art from her self.
