Mala Murli (Coonur)
The name ‘Koo’ still rings in my ears – that’s what Amma used to call me, fondly and often. I still cannot say whether she found me or I found her, but one thing is certain: her coming into my life had a purpose. At an age when I was clueless, confused and chaotic, Amma brought clarity. She recognized my talents and helped me hone them, giving me both confidence and a sense of purpose.
Once she took me under her care, her sense of responsibility for my well-being was both endearing and, at times, frightening. I can still feel her fingers gently caressing my hair as she oiled and combed my long tresses. She seemed to enjoy this ritual as much as I disliked it, for it required me to sit still. The way she helped me remove my makeup and jewellery after every performance, despite being tired herself, made me want to hug her. Though she was not one for physical displays of affection, she would sometimes plant a few awkward kisses on my cheek and I found them both sweet and amusing. Those moments drew us closer. She kept track of every like and dislike of mine and that touched me deeply. The little treats of badam milk after an exhausting dance session were something we both looked forward to. Sleeping beside her and listening to stories from her childhood was a joy I cherished.
Amma could be affectionate one moment and stern the next, switching roles effortlessly. Her challenge was to balance both acts – that of a mother and that of a guru – and it was not an easy task. What impressed me most was that she always walked the talk. If she expected me to be disciplined, organized and meticulous, she led by example. Her ability to do the same thing tirelessly, day after day and still be passionate about it has influenced me greatly.
When it came to creativity and hard work, time was never a hindrance for her. I distinctly recall her waking in the dead of night to note down a new composition, or to sing and try to set a particular song to meter. Everything else took a back seat – entertainment, socializing, even rest. Such dedication called for great sacrifices and it taught me that this is the kind of commitment that separates the great from the average. Her creativity constantly challenged me to give my best and keep raising the bar.
Her deep and sincere faith in her spiritual guru, from whom she drew her strength, convinced me that faith can do wonders. I was in awe of such conviction. Even when she was alone in the hospital, nearing the end of her life’s journey, it was this devotion that gave her strength.
Another unique facet of hers was her unconditional love and commitment for her son, Shyam. It was as if she had promised herself that she would support and encourage him in all his endeavours, no matter what. And she did so till the very end, despite all challenges. From her, I learnt that children must be encouraged to explore and take risks.
When I observed her teaching, I saw not only a passionate, hardworking teacher, but a mentor who made great efforts to understand every individual student’s strengths and weaknesses. She took it upon herself to unleash the potential of each one. I know this to be true because I witnessed very ordinary students transform into excellent artists under her guidance.
Another thing I imbibed from her was her passion for cricket and tennis. Amma and I would watch these games late into the night. It fascinated me to see her often rooting for the underdog and that changed the way I looked at the game. When it was not dance or sports then, it was music. We both enjoyed singing old Hindi film songs and I learnt a lot of songs of the 50s and 60s from her. Learnt how to look at every song in detail and nuances and expressions.
Ours was a love-hate relationship. I hated the way she laid down rules and expected me to follow them and I disliked the way she pointed out my weaknesses. Yet, I loved her concern for me, the confidence she had in my ability to portray a character and her understanding of my family responsibilities after marriage. I still recall turning to her for every little help when I was in Delhi and she never disappointed me. The numerous letters she wrote to me after my marriage, to guide, reassure and encourage me, stand as a testament to her love and I treasure them to this day. In the early years, I was like a lost puppy at her feet, but the learnings I gathered during those times helped me take charge later in life, when she needed me.
I saw in her a woman with very few desires, one who was not easily discouraged by disappointments. I found it intriguing that she could be so deeply committed, yet able to let go when the time came.
I am eternally grateful, and feel blessed to have had her in my life. Every day with her was a lesson. I learnt not only the finer aspects of life – dance being one of them – but also how to prepare for one’s final moments.
It is said that a Guru is one who not only directs you to the divine, but also helps you look within yourself. For that, I am forever indebted to my guru – Amma.
