When Padma Shri Malavika Sarukkai first stepped onto the stage of Mumbai’s NCPA in 1972, she was a 12-year-old girl with bells on her feet and the universe in her eyes. Today, five decades later, she remains one of the most influential and respected voices in Bharatanatyam. Her journey in dance has been not only one of performance but of practice, questioning, teaching, and returning again and again to the essence of movement.
The acclaimed dancer and choreographer has been the recipient of some of India's highest honours, including the Padma Shri, the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award, and the Kalaimamani Award from the Government of Tamil Nadu. She has also received the prestigious Nritya Choodamani and been featured in several international documentaries and festivals that have brought Bharatanatyam to global audiences.
“In the beginning, I learned Bharatanatyam as a classical art form. But over the years,” she says, “it became a spiritual quest. The geometry of movement, the poetry of gestures, and the inner life of abhinaya became deeper spaces for exploration.”
From that first performance to her recent production Beeja – Earth Seed, Sarukkai has brought audiences into a world where dance is not entertainment, but encounter between the dancer and the divine.
The Visual as Voice
In her recent talk at the 2025 Mudra Dance Festival at NCPA Mumbai, Sarukkai explored Aharya (the visual element of Indian classical dance). It’s an aspect often treated as ornamental, but for her, it is essential to the storytelling. “Aharya has always fascinated me,” she says. “It’s often seen as just a costume or an adornment, but in Indian classical dance, it’s so much more—it’s a part of abhinaya, the storytelling that lies at the heart of what we do. As outlined in the Natyashastra, abhinaya includes four elements: angika (body), vachika (voice), sattvika (emotion), and aharya, which is the visual: costume, makeup, jewellery, and props. All of these come together to create a complete artistic and culturally immersive experience.”
“In Bharatanatyam specifically, the clothing isn't just to make the dancer look beautiful; it is functional and symbolic. The pleats open like a fan during movement to emphasise the dancer’s grace, the traditional temple jewellery represents the history and tradition of this beautiful dance form, and the bold eye makeup ensures visibility of every expression — it all serves a purpose. Aharya creates the first impression before a single step is taken. The moment the dancer enters the stage, my costume establishes the period, character, and cultural context," she told ETV Bharat.
Choreography for the Planet
Her latest choreographic work Beeja (which the seasoned danseuse showcased at the Mudra Dance Festival) is a meditation on the natural world and our place within it. “Beeja means seed,” she explains. “A seed holds potential—and responsibility. Through this piece, I wanted to explore how deeply we’ve become disconnected from nature.”
The production gives voice to what she calls the “Wise Ones of our planet” the Tree, the Swan, and the Deer. “Through Bharatanatyam's expressive vocabulary, I've given voice to these silent witnesses of our actions. These voices shape the narrative and gently nudge us to reflect on how our actions impact the Earth. The choreography draws from Bharatanatyam’s traditional vocabulary but is arranged to echo the rhythms of nature: its cycles of birth, growth, decay, and renewal. Through angika abhinaya (expression through body movements), I tried to embody the essence of these beings, while sattvika abhinaya brings out the emotional terrain: the beauty of abundance, but also the pain of loss. Bharatanatyam’s rootedness (quite literally, in the aramandi stance) makes it the ideal medium to explore this theme.”
Sarukkai’s impact as a performer is matched by her legacy as a teacher. “To be a mentor, you need more than technical precision,” says the founder of Kalavaahini Trust. “I ground my teaching in the philosophy of Bharatanatyam. I speak about the Natyashastra, about symbols, metaphors, and spiritual ideas. When you understand the meaning behind a gesture, it transforms the performance.”
What she wants her students to develop, she says, is awareness. “First, I encourage deep listening—not just to music, but to the silence between notes, to their bodies, and the subtle nuances of emotion. This awareness transforms mechanical movements into meaningful expressions. I also encourage them to build emotional endurance. A performer must be vulnerable and brave at the same time. That kind of presence comes only when you have practised not just technique but awareness. I want them to understand that while Bharatanatyam is rich in form, it’s even richer in spirit.
The Dancer as Seeker
Over the years, her relationship with dance has grown more meditative. “Dance has always been my best teacher. The discipline it demands has taught me patience in a way nothing else has. Early in my career, I was drawn to the drama—bold gestures and elaborate narrative arcs. But over time, I began to notice how even a fleeting glance or a pause could carry immense emotional weight. That was my first lesson in subtlety: that meaning isn’t always loud. This realisation affected how I interacted with the world—how I listened, observed, and responded. I began to notice more and react less.” Dance, for her, has become a mirror—a way to know herself and the world around her.
“Through Bharatanatyam, I’ve come to feel part of something far bigger—an artistic lineage, a cultural tradition to be celebrated and preserved, the power of movement. That has dissolved many of the boundaries I once placed around myself.”
Even after five decades, her hunger to create remains undiminished. “I still feel excited by Bharatanatyam. It’s like a language I know fluently, but it keeps surprising me.” That spirit of “innovation within tradition” defines her work. “I find inspiration in young people, in the questions they ask, in the world they are navigating. Beeja was born out of concern for the planet. But the next work might come from something completely different. As long as I can create, I will.”
She credits the audiences, too, with keeping her inspired. And what has five decades of dancing taught her most of all? “That the greatest teacher,” she says, “is the practice itself.”
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