Some love stories, like gypsies, travel - from place to place, from heart to heart, from sun to snow, from Tanjore to Spain…Colombia…New York. Austria…Croatia…never settling down…like Nature…from Tagore to Tkaichokvsy to Tyagaraja.
My journey into, and in, the world of dance is one such love story… a labour of love and passion, hope and distress, sprinkled with moments of epiphany and leaps of faith.
Born to sitar maestro Pandit Subroto Roychowdhury, breathing in the notes of Ahir Bahirav, Jhinjhoti, Desh, Behag and Rageshri, dawn to dusk, any deviation from ‘gharanadaar’ classical music was almost blasphemy. When I was around 4-years old, my father was in the process of popularizing Indian classical music in Europe, while directing the music of Hans Gunther Higmeh’s Antigone , an Indo German production, Hermen Hesse’s Siddhartha, a Swiss production, the Russian film The Could , a French Jazz production with Steve Lacey, Raga Music fusions with the Birmingha