'I am still a one-man army' - Astad Deboo

From your memories of forging a new path for dance in India, when you started dancing, it seemed difficult enough for a man to enter the classical dance world and stick around. In your case, you explored something new and unnamed - could you talk about that experience?

I was trained in Kathak. Growing up in Jamshedpur, one took part in annual school productions. But there were no solo performances, because there was no scope for that at the school. When I finished school and was serious about dance, my parents refused, because they felt I should study further. I wasn't allowed to train, but I rehearsed what I had learnt and the solo parts I had played in the dance dramas at my school. I started watching other dance forms in Bombay. I noticed that there were many innovations in theatre, music and the visual arts. When Asha (Uttara Asha Coorlawala) returned to Bombay and was looking for dancers, I worked with her and told her that I would like to study at the Martha Graham School, where she was training at that time.

I was lucky to have had forward-thinking parents. After my graduation, I told them that I still wanted to be a dancer. Neither they nor I knew the journey I was going to embark on...that pursuing dance would become the purpose of my life.

The process of exploring, learning and educating, often without resources, was a long one. I learned as and when I could, and survived by my wits. The focus was on what I could imbibe. I was very clear that my style would be individualistic and that I would have my own take on what my dance would be, which has also evolved over the decades.

I studied Kathakali after returning from eight years of travel. Being a Parsi and learning Indian classical dance, many gurus were a bit apprehensive about teaching me Kathakali. However, E. Krishna Panikkar, who eventually taught me, was very open, compared to Prahlad Das, my first guru, who was disappointed that I decided to take my dance in another direction. For a while, he (Prahlad Das) was very unhappy and did not accept my decision. But later on, he accepted my search.

For me, it has always been a search and still continues to be, at many levels. When I came to India, it took me a year to find a platform in Bombay. For over a decade, there was a lot of resistance, even people dismissing my work - not looking at it but just going by the fact that somebody had stepped outside (the usual boundaries). I had studied Indian classical dance but was never really in that genre. I had consciously decided that I had to be comfortable with the dance language I brought into my body and be convinced of why I was bringing a particular movement in. 

After my first performance at Prithvi Theatre, around ninety percent of the audience appreciated my efforts to take a step forward. In the West, they still looked at India as very traditional, and were not open to work that didn't fit into that mould. But they definitely had more platforms available to dancers. 

Contemporary dance in India is headed in different directions. How do you read these directions?

In classical dance, the male generation are still working within the tradition. There is promise. Among the contemporary, I have not been very impressed. What puts me off is the attitude. They are not open to comment. How they can relook...or when I point out something that is not working. 

I have stood by what I have created. I have been very happy in my world. I am blessed, regardless of all the opposition. I came from a happy home; there was no nagging. They saw my journey, my suffering. "We are so sorry we do not know anybody who might be able to help you," said my parents. 

I am where I am because of my hard work. I do not regret the path I took. At the end of the day, my dignity is what I have.