The last dancing devotee

The last of the dancing devotees

“It is rare to find anyone interested in the dance nowadays. How did you come to know about the Devadasi dance?”, says Dilip Kakati, a slightly bemused smile playing on his lips as he ushers me into the shelter of his living room which shields me from the brutal afternoon heat. A moment’s pause and he adds, almost as an afterthought, “Well, I guess there were never too many people who were interested in the dance.”

It is past one on a Sunday afternoon and I am at the house of Dilip Kakati, one of the last remaining teachers and practitioners of the Devadasi dance in Assam. Most people would readily recall the Devadasi dance as a South Indian dance to be found and practiced only in the Southern part of India but few would know that this dance also petered down to the Northeast and was practiced in Assam.

Historically, the town of Pathsala in Barpeta district of lower Assam has been associated with education, as its name indicates. (Pathsala in Assamese means an educational institute). Nowadays, Pathsala is famous for its mobile theatre troupes who have earned national acclaim but the town has a cultural history dating back to far earlier times than the late 20th century instrument of private theatre groups. One such lost and forgotten art is the Devadasi dance.

The word Devadasi comes from the two Sanskrit words, ‘Deva’ meaning ‘God’ and ‘Dasi’ meaning servant or slave. Thus, Devadasi meant one who had devoted her life in service of god. Devadasi dance is a devotional dance and a part of the Devadasi tradition.

From the pages of History

According to various sources like the Kalika Puran and the Joginitantra, ancient Kamrup was a seat of tantra and these books mention the advent of Devadasis to Assam due to Tantric influences. Scholars agree that the origins of the Devadasis in Assam can be traced back to the 7th century A.D. to the reign of King Bhaskaravarman of the Varman dynasty. Copper plates discovered near the village of Dubi in Pathsala also mention the Chinese traveler Huien Tsang’s praise of the Kamrupi arts and dance. Negheriting in Dergaon, the Siva doul in Sibsagar, Hajo and the Porihoreshwar temple in Dubi, Pathsala were the centres where Devadasi tradition prevailed.

The Devadasi dance which was originally confined to within the temple got a public character in the 17th century during the rule of the Ahom kings and it began to be performed outside the temple premises. The dance in its present form is a blend of both the forms of dance performed inside and outside the temple.

However, as with most man-made institutions, the dance became prey to mortal desires. With the passage of time many people began to indulge in promiscuous activities with the dancers under the pretext of offering prayers. Thus, the institution of Devadasis came to be a much reviled one and came to be equated with prostitution. In Assam, the Devadasis were known as Notis, which initially meant a dancing girl or an actress but with time assumed the derogatory meaning of a prostitute.

In the early 1930s the institution of Devadasis was banned by the British government with support of Indian social reformers.

The Renaissance man

The 21st century hasn’t been kind to the dance either. As Kakati puts it, “The khol is losing out to drum beats.” The last performance that Kakati’s troupe had was more than a year ago. “The Devadasi dance has devotion or Bhakti at its roots. In the earlier days, there was an audience for devotional dances but now such an audience is on the wane. ”, says Kakati.

All this is a far cry from the days when the dance was recovered from its death bed in 1954 and given a new lease of life by a man named Ratna Kanta Talukdar.

Ratna Talukdar

Collaborating with legendary cultural icon of Assam, Bishnu Rabha, Talukdar was able to revive the dance in 1954. With the help of the last surviving two octogenarian Devadasis, Royabala Devi and Kaushalya Devi, the dance was reduced to 10 minutes from the original 25 minutes. Four school going girls were also selected and trained to perform the dance. Later in the 1970s when Kakati was a youngster, Talukdar trained him and his sister.

However society at the time didn’t look kindly at the dance or its practitioners. Talukdar, was held in great contempt and ridiculed for the greater part of his life for his role in associating with the Devadasi culture.

I remember how the old man (Talukdar) came to teach us in this very courtyard and my father was opposed to it. My sister performed on stage and she got crude letters from all over Assam taunting her because she was a ‘Devadasi’. When we walked past the village circle, people would pass unsavory remarks about us. At public meetings or Bihu functions, there would be stand-up comedy at our expense. But still we shouldered on.”

A meeting and a realization

But the identity of the dance was yet to be saved. The realization about the enormity of the task at hand would come later, after a meeting with the Dadasaheb Phalke winner Bhupen Hazarika. Kakati says, “It was 1982 and two years had passed since the death of Ratna Talukdar. Bhupen Hazarika had come down to Pathsala for a performance. On the evening of the performance he was backstage and he sent for me. He called me near him and told me, ‘Son, it will be a great sin if you let this art (Devadasi dance) die.’ That was it. That sentence triggered something in me and I knew that I had to carry on propagating and practicing this art.”

A struggle for survival

Dilip Kakati

Today the dance consists of Devadasis depicting the various motions of taking a bath. Kakati is in the process of creating an evening aaroti (prayer) dance also- “I am trying to create an evening aaroti dance too which is difficult as most of the original movements of the dance have been lost. But I am taking elements of the existing grammar of the dance and creating it.”

According to Kakati, till as late as 1995, the dance was popular but then Bollywood dances happened and militancy in the state was at its peak.

“If you are leaping here and there to avoid bullets, those leaps might still become steps for a modern dance but they can’t become steps for a Devadasi dance or a Satriya dance.”

The apathy is evident. There is no designated place for teaching the dance and if and when a performance is there, Kakati uses his own courtyard to teach the dance to his students. Students are also hard to come by. “Most of the good looking girls have other pursuits like drama or cinema. Even if someone is found, parents immediately ask, “What will I get in return?”

In such a situation the role of the government and cultural associations is crucial to the survival of the dance feels Kakati.

“No art can be kept alive by one man or a group of people. A society which does not respect its past and tradition does not survive for long. There is an urgent need for a cultural centre to be set up in Pathsala for future discussion, training, performance and publicity about the dance”, says Kakati.

Meanwhile till such a time, Kakati is ready to shoulder the responsibility himself and even go beyond.

“The government says that finding land is a problem. I have 24 bighas of land. I am ready to give my land, if need be, to set up the cultural centre but first there should be some indication of interest from the authorities.”

The octogenarian Devadasi, Kaushalya Devi, had once, more than 50 years ago, questioned with anguish and bitterness in her voice, “The government only did away with the Devadasi dance so what is the need for reviving it now?”

Somewhere in the streets of Pathsala one man does seem to have an answer. Now only if the people and authorities of Assam would hear him.