Interview: Mallika Sarabhai, author, In Free Fall: My Experiments with Living – “Every human with a heart should speak up for Bilkis”
The dancer, actor and choreographer talks about writing her memoir, being rooted in tradition, and Indian racism
Your book is so chatty and fun that I wanted to read it at one go. How long did it take you to put down your thoughts?
I am thrilled that you liked it. To be honest, I took just three weeks to write the first draft.
You seem to write as quickly as Akshay Kumar shoots movies!
Hahaha! Yes, you can say that but he is certainly not my favourite actor. Writing came easily because it was all there inside me, waiting to be written. After the first draft, I did a lot of reviewing. I went and looked up some books. I visited my doctors for reference material to quote from. My editor told me things like: “Could you please write more about this? Readers may not know what you are talking about. They will need more context, so give them that.” The feedback was quite helpful, so I incorporated it. The book was ready earlier but the publication and release got delayed because of the Covid-19 pandemic. I am glad it is out.
Let’s talk about dance since it is such an integral part of your life. It is an inheritance from your mother Mrinalini Sarabhai, and that your son RevantaSarabhai received from you. Tell us about the continuities you see, and the moments of breaking away.
Bharatanatyam has been the common thread connecting Amma, me, and Revanta. Amma used to tell me that she wished her mother had allowed her to explore several dance forms. She encouraged me to learn everything that I wanted to, regardless of whether it was called folk or classical. That is why I have been able to bring in poetry, dance, theatre, so many things into my work. Speaking of progression, Revanta has not only trained in traditional Indian forms but also gone and trained in western dance. Things need to move forward.
Do you ever feel anxious about diluting the so-called purity of your classical training?
I get what you are saying. I feel totally rooted in my Bharatanatyam and Kuchipudi training, and it is my strong foundation that gives me the freedom to explore and experiment. I never feel anxious about diluting it because I am confident about my credentials. I can do a traditional performance but I can also take my training and go to unimaginable places with it.
In the book, you mention the practice of inviting families from tribal communities to teach at Darpana, to share their dance, music, stories and customs. Were you trying to question the idea of who is seen as an expert, and what is seen as worth teaching?
Yes, we did this for about 15-18 years through Janavak, our folk and tribal dance centre. It was a wonderful experience. People who live in urban India need to understand that tribal dance and music – whether we are talking about Kalbelias, Gonds or Ao Nagas – are not just entertainment. They emerge from a way of living. The clothes they wear, the colours they use, the things they make are anchored in their geography and in the stories of their ancestors.
What are you currently working on?
I am working with Yadavan Chandran on a 12th century Sufi poem by Farid ud-Din Attar. It is called The Conference of the Birds. Yadavan is the artistic director, and I will choreograph it. This text, which was originally composed in Persian, seems so relevant for our times especially with the horrific things that are happening in India right now. It speaks out against absolute power, which corrupts human beings. It asks us to stop seeking answers outside because they actually lie within and can be found by plumbing the depths of our own selves. It also cautions us against greed, which makes people so self-absorbed and so oblivious to the suffering of others. We hope to have this performance ready by October. We would like to offer it to schools and colleges too because children and young adults need to be part of conversations about where our nation is headed, and the kind of citizens we want to be.
You have written about filing a petition in the Supreme Court to hold the Gujarat government and administration including the police responsible for the 2002 riots. What are your thoughts on the early release of convicts in the Bilkis Bano rape case?
The remission of their life imprisonment sentence is a blot on humanity. This is not only a women’s issue or a minority rights issue. It is a matter that should concern everyone. Every human being with a heart should speak up for Bilkis, otherwise evil will continue to be celebrated with impunity. We must use our constitutional rights and fight for her.
To what extent were you involved in Abhay Pannu’s web series Rocket Boys, which is based on the lives of Dr Homi Bhabha, and your father Dr Vikram Sarabhai?
I was approached for my thoughts on the script, and I worked closely with the team for two-and-a-half years. It was a pleasure because they were sincere and respectful. When they asked for my comments, they were really listening and doing their best to use that feedback. Of course, it’s a series so some things have to be dramatized for effect. Some things have to be shortened or edited. All that is understandable. What I really appreciate is how they have dealt with the relationships, keeping the complexity but not missing out on the tenderness. I also enjoyed working on the choreography. My son has now joined the production company.
Tell us about your association with Auroville. You refer to it in the book but do not go into much detail. Were you drawn to it because of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother?
I was on the Governing Council of Auroville for 10 years, and I loved it. Karan Singh was the Chair, and I met a lot of amazing people and built warm relationships. Unfortunately, all of us were thrown out and replaced a few years ago. What is happening with Auroville is terrible and completely against what that place was meant to be. I was drawn to Auroville because I was interested in the idea of an experimental township where people are into solar energy, water conservation, organic farming, slow food, working with hands not just the mind. These things are appealing to me. I have an organic farm not far from Ahmedabad, so I tried out things that I learnt. I invited people from the Earth Institute in Auroville to come and teach mud block architecture in Ahmedabad. I am still in touch with Mita and Tapas who run the Tomatis Research Centre at Auroville. You must have read about them in the book.
Wasn’t Peter Brook the one who sent you to the Centre Tomatis in Paris? I think you were struggling to learn French for his production of the Mahabharata. Is that right?
Yes, I benefited so much from being there. Alfred Tomatis was this genius ear, nose and threat specialist who liked working with musicians. He developed a theory that many vocal problems were in fact hearing problems, and that people learning a new language could pick it up easily if they had a perceptual understanding of the musicality of that language. He researched how micro muscles in the ear can be awakened and trained. Going to the Centre Tomatis helped me listen to French differently, and that helped me speak fluently. I had to work really hard to play Draupadi, and I am glad I did. I learnt so much from that experience.
Speaking of Peter Brook, who died recently, what was it like to be part of a cast that was considered so radical in the 1980s because it was diverse and multicultural?
It was radical for sure. His casting choices ruffled many feathers, especially when we had desis in the audience whether we were performing in Australia or in the United States. They could not deal with the fact that Black actors were playing characters from the epic. Let me tell you about this audience interaction after one of the shows. I got so angry when a man got up and asked, “Why is Arjuna being played by a Black person?” I took a mirror, and showed him his own face which was three shades darker than the people on stage. That shut him up. While touring with the play, I saw that desis are obsessed with fairness, and are extremely racist and casteist. People use scriptures and myths to justify bigotry that should have no place in a civilized society. We talk about the glories of our culture but we are so good at covering up the violence. We don’t talk about Dalit women being raped and killed, or Dalit children being denied education in schools and being beaten for drinking water from a pot.
I learnt from your book that your mother disapproved of your smoking and drinking but you owned these choices. Did you ever question your choice to be a vegetarian?
My vegetarianism has been questioned by others. I am happy with my choice. I do not like the idea of having dead things in my stomach. Aesthetically speaking, it sounds ugh to me. I was totally disgusted when I read about autopsy reports of dead people with undigested meat in their bodies. I do not go about telling other people what choices they need to make. My son and daughter are vegetarians by choice. In our family, vegetarianism is not imposed. Now some people might say that even vegetables come from plants, which are living creatures. That is true but we all draw our lines differently. Most people in India who eat fish and chicken do not eat dogs and cats. Some people don’t even consume milk and dairy products. They might make these choices for various kinds of reasons. For me, it’s an aesthetic choice.
You have written about exploring Ayurveda, homoeopathy, Pranic healing, hypnosis, chromotherapy, and other systems of knowledge and practice. Since your father was a scientist, did you feel conflicted about trying out what others deem pseudo-scientific?
Never. I see no conflict here. I also keep myself informed about the latest developments in brain research. I read, I sign up for short courses, I keep myself active and informed. I am and will continue to be open-minded and open-hearted. There are so many things we don’t know.
Chintan Girish Modi is a writer, journalist and educator who tweets @chintanwriting