While I still continue to contemplate about 'who is an artist?', I must say that I credit the initiation of this thought to aunty. I lay emphasis on thought because a teacher imparts knowledge and knowledge doesn't mean anything without thought. I am sure umpteen definitions exist but none which could completely satisfy me. To think of Plato's Utopia, where artists had no place, to today's world which is filled with artists / 'con' artists.

I started this discussion of an artist, because that status of hers drew me to her a decade ago, an artist-teacher to be precise. Her dignified figure sat on the wooden bed at Owner's House. Teachers tend to have an aura of didacticism around them that instantly warns students, but strangely her presence made me feel at ease. When you meet individuals, at least when I meet individuals, I tend to seek relationships, associations from past that draw me to them, and I instantly connected with her as my grand mother and mother figure, an image so strong in my life which I love, I hate, I rebel, and I reconcile with. Well, this is also my relationship with God, my parents and my maternal grandparents. It has always mattered to me what she thought of me, my decisions of all sorts, my mistakes, my moods, basically her opinions matter! It brings tears to my eyes as I write this, because I miss being physically close to her.

I must mention my happiest moments with her; there are two: Amrutotsav being the first one. It was really a great pleasure seeing aunty so happy after years. Here I must also mention her students and my seniors Jayashree and Saraswati and my friend Ragini whose initiatives and contributions have brought smiles to aunty during Amrutotsav. It must have been a pleasure to see her, for all her students.

The second moment was aunty's Kacheri at Shanmukhananda. Aunty has given lots of Kacheris in the past, but I hadn't been a witness to any. And whenever I used to see other stalwarts in the field perform at Shanmukhananda stage, I always wondered how it would be to hear aunty. So that's my secret little dream come true. Though I couldn't be physically present through the entire kacheri, the thought of it gave me a high.

I guess these two mentions will be the only almost impersonal ones in this memoir of mine, because it is quite a task for me to distance my emotions when I am speaking about aunty because I associated with her emotionally. My quest for an answer about the artist still continues because of my inability to differentiate between aunty; the artist and aunty; the human. This differentiation might sound ridiculous to most people but I face this dilemma because I am caught in the web of reverence. The question is do I even call it a dilemma; because it never ceases to astonish me the semblance of my reverence for both aunty and God. Sometimes I know the reason for this semblance because aunty takes me closer to God with each dance. She makes me experience the beauty in the rhythms of nature which I would have ignored if not for her teachings. I owe her a lot, just like I owe God my life, she teaches me to add rhythms to my life.

Wish you a very Happy Birthday aunty. I hope you see many more of these because you matter to each one of your current and future students, because you teach these young minds to live life!

I must say this: Love you aunty and I would consider myself blessed if I can impart these rhythms to future generations at some point in my life!
Thank you for being a part of my life and for giving me a new family of Nritya Geethanjali.

Lots and lots of love,
Megha