An encounter with a danseuse with a difference

T here was point in time when the waif-like Arushi Mudgal wanted to ride away on a cherry-coloured Scooty and be a pizza delivery woman. Then, there was the time when she wanted to study hotel management and be “any where but here”. The “here” refers to the oldest music school in Delhi—Gandharva Mahavidyalaya—established in 1939 by Pandit Vinaychandra Maudgalaya, disciple of Pandit Vinayakrao Patwardhan, an exponent from Gwalior Gharana. Today, it is headed by noted Hindustani classical singer, Pandit Madhup Mudgal, Mudgal's father.

Growing up within the Mahavidyalaya campus there was a time when the young danseuse and Odissi exponent wanted to see the world beyond. “My grandfather was a musicologist. My grandmother taught at the school. My father is the current principal. My mother is also involved here. My Guru is also my aunt Madhaviji (Padma Shri awardee and the only Indian to have performed with choreographer person would understand, on the other, her dedication to the art and craft is one that her seniors would approve. Mudgal has her feet on two worlds and she straddles both with style. She knows how to use her youthfulness to connect with the younger disciples and audience of her Guru. So, we had to ask, was there a time when the confidence was not thus apparent? “Both my sister and I have trained under most of the teachers of this school. We have attended most classes that other pupils go to. My grandmother, mother and father all taught me music, but that was something I did because it was fun. But dancing was a bit more—even as a child I used to need to dance. I do not remember my first stage performance. My love for performance made me unafraid and by the time I realised my unbelievable fortune (she performed with Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra and Madhavi Mudgal when she was 13 years), I was too immersed into this life to be afraid. I guess when there's a strong passion, there is little space for insecurities. Yes, I get nervous before my performances but once the performance starts, the joy of it is all-consuming,” she says. In between she also snaps her fingers to emphasise her words and puts in words like “stuff”. When I point out this obviously young energy, she breaks into infectious laughter and says “What must you think of me”. Well, I am charmed by her demeanour to say the least. “I understand what is expected out of me. I realise the legacy. At the end of the day it is about the process, the dance, the form, the discipline, the depth of it. Pressure and insecurities are all superficial things,” she says after pondering a little. Even as a child she was mesmerised by the rhythmic aspect of the dance. That, and the grace (lasya) of the form. She likes to combine the two in her choreographies. These two are the most essential aspects of the form that keeps her most engaged. “It is a fine blend of lasya, a very flowing form, and then there’s the strong foot work.” When you talk to the daughter of Madhup Mudgal, one cannot help but think of her future—is there a possibility that we will see her become the third generation mentor? “I would think it to be strange if people thought of themselves as ‘mentors’ or that eventually they would become one. No one plans it I think. Everything happens gradually and it happens when the time is right. I never thought that I would be teaching a class but then I did for the time when I could find the time. I like the mysterious future. I would like to see what it holds for me.” We have the feeling that the future only holds big things for this diminutive dancer—look no further than the string of performances that line up her 2014 calendar.