We had an earlier start than usual today, 9 o’clock instead of 10. Our destination was the Konganeshwarar temple, somewhere near which was the home of a Sri Herambanathan (love the name!) and his Bavu Pillai school of dance. They are very near the Brihadeeshwara temple, and these streets must have housed many of the musicians and dancers who served the court and temple. As usual, nothing happened linearly or as planned. We arrived at the place where we were told someone would be waiting for us and of course he wasn’t. Poor Saskia. Against the din of the traffic and of our 3 auto drivers shouting out helpful suggestions, she tried to conduct a phone call with her contact (who she said sounded like he was in a disco, such was the background noise he was shouting against) to find out what exactly we needed to do. Eventually, some chappie arrived and the priest of the temple showed up as well and there was no getting away without a darshanam.
We went inside and had our darshanam. The temple is very old but wasn’t kept very clean at all. Through it all the priest kept up a constant patter of a confusing melange of myth and history. I really can’t keep the stories and names straight. There are so many of them, and Google is of absolutely no use. It’s good to know that there is a dynamic world thriving outside the range of Google.
The priest told us the deity is 2000 years old. 2000 seems to be the default age for anything very old. Saskia was getting impatient; we had somebody to meet, it was way past time, but we had to go through the motions. Darshanam done, we milled about a bit in the area outside the sanctum, and after some invisible signal/communication/spark of understanding we crossed the narrow street and entered a small home diagonally opposite the temple. This was the home of Sri Herambanathan, a dance guru and mridangam master whose family were performers for the Thanjavur court and temple. He is known to be deeply knowledgeable about the dance and music traditions of this region, home to rulers who were passionate about and nurtured these art forms. He had a personal connection to the great Thanjavur Quartet, four brothers who lived and worked in the royal courts of Thanjavur, Travancore and Mysore around two hundred years ago. Ponniah Pillai, one of the quartet, was Heramabanathan Sir's guru Kittappa Pillai's father.
Two colorful pais (mats) were laid out on the floor and the visit proceeded with the usual silences and formal little talks. Saskia presented him her book and DVD; he presented her a book he had authored (?) about Thanjavur’s music and dance traditions and its practitioners through the ages. She told him about our Yatra, and a little bit about each of us. He asked him if we could watch a class of his. He seemed deeply reluctant. It seemed to me that he didn’t have a very active teaching life (I could be all wrong). He pondered our request for a while and finally agreed; come tomorrow at 5.30, he told us, but he would have just some beginner students to teach.
The room was small and rather shabby. The only thing that looked new and somewhat shiny was a large TV in front of which Herambanathan Sir sat. The shelves beneath the TV had untidy stacks of books; the walls hadn’t seen paint in many years and the room was dull and worn. A bed stood behind where we sat, and beyond, from a pooja room, the sound of a prayer bell rang periodically, and wisps of fragrant smoke wafted out. A middle-aged lady (Herambanathan Sir’s wife?) emerged from the pooja room holding a plate in front of her from which a cloud of sambrani smoke streamed out and filled the room. She walked around the house dispensing the smoke to different points and went back into the pooja room.
Herambanathan Sir opened a little safe behind him and with enormous pride and great care took out a yellow cover and took out a photograph from it. He was awarded the Sangeet Natak Academy honor in 2013 and it was a photo of all the awardees that year. I was so happy that this modest man living in a tiny house on a dusty lane in the Tamil heartland was recognized for his passion and work keeping alive the precious traditions of his forefathers. Beneath the chaos and corruption and bureaucracy and inefficiency and constant frustrations is a country that somehow, miraculously does the right thing now and then and actually functions.