Nothing official about Nataraja portrait

IT was during the Governor’s rule in Punjab that a prominent classical dancer was invited to perform. Nritayakala, a society headed by a senior officer, often painstakingly organised such cultural shows on a grand scale.

It was felt that the show must be held inside a cinema hall where a ready-made stage would be available for the dance performance. Though the city had about 10 cinema halls, only Sant cinema had a suitable stage for such performance. It was an old cinema hall which did not have the curtains in front of the screen and most of the front-line chairs were broken. All these shortcomings were duly reported to the Deputy Commissioner and the Commissioner. A meeting was convened immediately in the cinema hall. Each item was discussed threadbare as the Chief Secretary was to be the chief guest.

A portrait of Nataraja, the God of Dancing, was to be prominently displayed in the lobby. On the day of the performance, it was decided that in the morning, some prominent ladies would inspect the arrangements.

Most of them appreciated the painter who had painstakingly made the work. Suddenly, everyone looked at a handsome man, who was a prominent member of all cultural committees of the district and performed often on the then nascent Doordarshan. He was politely and artistically telling the wife of the Commissioner, ‘Ma’am, please look at the waist of the deity, is it not protruding conspicuously?’ ‘Nataraja da lakk mota lagda hai’ (Nataraja has a bulging waistline), he added in Punjabi. The lady looked critically at the portrait and remarked, ‘Yes, of course! Who has brought this portrait?’

I timidly ventured to say, ‘Ma’am, Nataraja has a standard portrait and its waistline is always like this.’

My gentle words made her angry: ‘It has to be replaced and must be done forthwith.’ I could only say, ‘Ma’am, the function is to start at 6 pm and it is already 1 pm. It will be difficult.’

‘No, no, you will have to do it, I will tell my husband.’ She put me under the threat of the person who could bully any gentle soul. After half an hour, I got a call at the cinema manager’s number from the PA to the Commissioner, who told me that saheb had desired that the Nataraja portrait must be changed. I discussed the matter with the district public relations officer, a resourceful person. He told me something in my ear. Every 10 minutes, I would get calls enquiring whether it had been done. Late in the afternoon, I rang up the Commissioner and told him that Nataraja’s portrait had been replaced as per directions.

Actually, we had called the deputy district education officer, who got a rangoli done around the place and also put garlands of motia buds on the portrait. The camouflage worked.

However, till date, I get nightmares about the event and the gentleman who said Nataraja’s waistline was protruding too much.