When I was very young (as in, before my brother was born), my world was governed by several certitudes that I wholeheartedly believed, even though I have no memories of being told these things.

• My family lived in Singapore, but we are Indian

• My mother is a dancer

• Saraswati is in all of my prized pencils, books, and stationary

• Mastergaru is Lord Nataraja reborn on earth.

Eight years ago, today, on the other side of the globe, I remember watching the live stream with my mother, choking back sobs as students came from all over to pay their respects to this giant among men. I can still hear the item Pooja being conducted in front of him, and the sight of everyone lined up for its entrance.

I only have the faintest memory of meeting Mastergaru. I think it was in 1997 or 1998; Anuradha Nehru and other dancers were performing in Singapore and Mastergaru was conducting the program. He came to our home. I recall feeling shy and in awe. I wasn’t learning dance yet, but I remember being moved by the program and the entire experience.

Of course, his impact on dance is immeasurable - there are no words that can do justice. I have met (and count myself among) so many people whose love for the arts have been directly influenced by his choreographies and dance dramas. These works can be understood from so different layers such as aesthetics, philosophy, structure, music, pedagogy, and a particular world-view that so many of us have imbibed, whether or not we realize it.

It is impossible to synthesize the monumental impact Mastergaru has had on my life and the lives of countless others. I think back to the formative years Amma, Hari Mastergaru, and so many other people close to me have had with him.

They belong to a group of people who have been privileged to spend time in his presence, whether for a few years or for decades. They carry with them the teachings they’ve taken from his classes, conversations with him, and the example he set and the lessons he taught from how he moved through the world. They have, in turn, become beacons of light for their own students and those in their presence, living their lives based on what they’ve taken from their time with him. This impact is, needless to say, exponential.

I was recently speaking with a student of Mastergaru who was reflecting on the myriad of ways he impacted their life and their purpose. As that person spoke, I was reminded of the words of the finale in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s musical Hamilton, “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.”

Mastergaru’s legacy lives on not only through his choreographies and productions, not only through the incredible artists he molded, but through the the lives of the innumerable people that he and his art have indelibly touched and irrevocably transformed.

May we all recognize that flickering flame that has been lit within each of us, and use it to bring light to those in our own lives.

I took this photograph when he came to our home. I vaguely remember him being amused by me (a tiny elementary school kid) wielding my family’s SLR camera to take the photograph. There are other pictures from that day with me in them, but this one’s my favorite.