The tenet of Vishishta Advaita, a philosophy propounded by Sri Raamaanujaacharya places Sri Mahalakshmi and Sriman Naaraayana as the Divine Parents and the bhaktas as their children. The supreme of the two being Taayar (in Tamizh) – an untranslatable actually, the Divine Mother who constantly beseeches Sriman Naaraayana to forgive the bhaktas, their children, of all the sins they constantly commit, knowingly or unknowingly and nudging Him to protect and bestow Mukti. According to this sampradaaya, even when visiting a Sri Vaishnava Divya Kshetram, the first obeisance is to the Taayar sannidhi, and only then to the main Deity. This is regarded as the penultimate Vaatsalya Bhaava exhibited by the Divine Parents themselves, especially by Sri Mahalakshmi.

Born into a Sri Vaishnava household the concept of this Vaatsalyam was ingrained in me since I was a child. God fearing was never an option, but beseeching God was. The belief was instilled that in the Vaatsalyam of the Divine, all was forgiven, and the Divine Mother, who was an epitome of compassion, will patiently wait for us to learn our lessons and lead us towards the path of Saranaagati and Moksha.

The elders of my family, especially the women, were the epitome of this bhava because they were staunch believers of this principle philosophy of being patient with the child, possessing a low tolerance for bad behaviour, and always providing not one but multiple solutions to cross-over any life problems. 

As we walked into any of Sri Vaishnava Kshetram, this philosophy was constantly re-iterated by the elders to submit to the Divine Feet of the Taayar, to seek compassion, forgiveness, and a recommendation to Sriman Naarayana for His mercy.

Indian classical dance and philosophy are intertwined. Dance comprises music, poetry, and literature. Many saints and seers have used poetry and music replete with Vaatsalya bhava to beseech the Divine and sung several hundreds of compositions that speak to us in the tone of Yashoda or Kausalya and how they caressed and poured their love towards Sri Krishna or Sri Raama.

As a student of dance, the study of poetry, literature, and Puranas is essential to develop a deep understanding and context to the practice of the art form. It is also a pathway to access emotions such as Vaatsalya as imagined by seers and saints who had a Divine intervention to create such immersive poetry and music. Naatya Shaastra extols AshTa Bhaava – Shrungara, Veera, KaaruNya, Adbhuta, Haasya, Bhayanaka, Bhibatsya, and Roudra – it is through the KaruNa bhaava that one finds a segway into the Vaatsalya Rasa.

My first tryst with dance and Vaatsalya bhaava was the first impression of watching my dance teacher handle a beautiful composition by Saint Poet Purandaradasa imagining how Yashoda is cajoling Krishna to return the butter churner which he had hidden from her. To my young mind, the possibility of having to imagine Krishna through the medium of dance was fascinating. I also had an immersive experience watching the doyen of Kathak, Pandit Birju Maharaj playing around with Krishna and his anklets with just his Bols and Tabla and I remember how the entire auditorium burst into a huge applause at the end of that composition. It was magical!

It was only after I became a mother, that Vaatsalya bhaava had a more holistic meaning in my dance. Holding my son, and experiencing the feeling of his tender body falling asleep in my arms is one of the most fulfilling emotions that I have experienced. It was through motherhood that I was able to fathom what Vaatsalya bhaava, as imagined by these seers and saints could have been, especially when it was a Yashoda cuddling Krishna or Kausalya feeling elated at the anklet bells of Sri Raama trying to find His balance while walking. When I dance these compositions today, it is always my own child and the emotions he elicits in my heart, that channelises me to visualize how beautiful Sri Krishna could have been or how dignified Sri Raama could have been through the eyes of Yashoda or Kaushalya.

Dance transforms often as life lessons. Dancing these compositions provides an insight to be patient, loving, affectionate, and also clever to don the role of a mother. As I began reading these stories to my young child, it was more a lesson for me to internalize the great sacrifice of Sumitra when she sent Lakshmana along with Rama on his exile, and the shame felt by Kaikeyi when Bharata abuses her on his return. How to be and how not to be as a mother!

Our PuraNas are a strong foundation for us to learn valuable lessons in life too, if we care to see it with a specific lens and learn from them. Storytelling was an intrinsic part of my childhood and I ensured that my son grew up knowing the stories of Sri Krishna and Sri Raama first. It instilled a deep sense of camaraderie and friendship with these deities in the form of characters in the books I would read for him. I also learnt that it was important to draw deep on concepts like faith, belief and seeking the Almighty to help you even in small things. This helps the child endear themselves to concepts of a Higher Power or a forever friend or help. I am also perhaps fortunate to have a child who found it easy to believe and develop these within him.

It was also imperative that arts, philosophy, mythology, and their interconnectedness was exposed to him from a young age. As a young child, he would imitate my students who touch my feet before a dance class or a performance, and that taught him the culture of having to respect and bow down to teachers and elders. Children absorb and imitate us more than understand our words. This was an insightful experience for me and I continue to learn many lessons through my journey of raising a teenager now.

Spiritual practices and simple anushTaanam or daily rituals are a part of our household. The early morning kolam, the lighting of the lamp, the neivedyam or the food offering to the deity, placing flowers freshly plucked from the garden – are all simple, uncompromising rituals that my son has observed from when he was a child, and now as a teenager never misses a beat to admonish me if I have forgotten or not done it. He also observes how I sit for my saadhana and that has helped him to stay his course through a grueling sports discipline that he practices. To be unapologetic about wearing the holy vibhuti on his forehead, never stepping out without bowing down to the Deities at home, and ending the day with 7 chants of Hari no matter what, chanting the Vishnu Sahasranamam whenever possible, and his Sandhyavandana and Gayatri japa are simple steps to help him find some anchor in the Higher Power. I recount a particular road trip, where we lost our way during a late evening on our way from a Subramanya temple towards our hotel in Karaikudi. We found ourselves in a small, dark and eerie path, and the tension in the car was palpable. In a few seconds on that dark road, my son, then very young, began to chant Narayana loudly and repeatedly until we found the highway back. We all laughed with glee at his innocence, but that is etched in my memory because that was a moment for me to realize that his roots are strong!

We inhabit a difficult world. The distractions and the fact that many Sanatani families refuse to follow or believe in simple anushTaanam, prefer western fantasies or ideologies instead of our literature and puraaNas is a reality we have to deal with. The idea, I have learnt, is to allow children to explore but reiterate the depth that is embedded in our cultural and religious literature. 

The challenges of raising a young adult in this age and time is something I grapple with like many parents. The world views are in contrast with what we expound within the four walls of our nests called home. Soon, our birds will find strength in their wings and may fly far away, and maybe to a place unreachable by us. The present time is precious and ticking fast. And within this, is where instilling the firm foundation of faith, belief and respect to our culture plays a key role.

I have come to understand that we can only do as much as parents. As a mother, sometimes the words help, sometimes analogies, stories, sometimes the harsh words, sometimes getting upset and sometimes the power play too. But all in the hope that this will reiterate what it means to live a life of discipline, belief in the Almighty, doing the small things that matter, and most importantly being unapologetic about our Dharma, is what holds water.

Most of what I converse or tell my son today is mostly what my parents taught me. I rebelled and came around. My son is yet to rebel. Maybe he won’t! The hope is that he will hold the path and the path will hold him too; for that is what Vaatsalyam is all about. Taayar holds us strong, and we in turn, hold Her feet to never let go.