Shiva and the Tandava: The Dance of Destruction and Creation

Two dances, one dancer

Tradition speaks of more than one Tandava, and the name is used in two main ways.

The first is the fierce one, the Rudra Tandava, a dance of dissolution. In this form Shiva dances with great force, and the world he dances in is ending. It is the dance of the god who destroys, who clears away what has run its course.

The second is the Ananda Tandava, the dance of bliss. It is the form shown in the famous bronze images, and it is graceful, balanced and calm. This is the dance of creation, preservation and release, all held in a single pose.

The two are not enemies. The same dancer performs both, and many readers take that to mean that endings and beginnings belong to one movement.

A note on the word itself. Some traditions link the term Tandava to a figure named Tandu, a follower of Shiva who is said to have taught the dance to the sage Bharata, the author of the Natya Shastra, the old treatise on drama and dance. This is how the tradition explains the link between Shiva and the classical arts, though accounts differ.

The story of the forest sages

One of the best-known stories of the dance begins in a forest called Daruka Vana, where a group of sages lived, proud of their learning and their ritual power. In the tellings that survive, they believed that rites alone were enough, and that they had no need of a god who wandered outside the rules.

Shiva came to the forest in a strange disguise, as a wandering beggar of great beauty, accompanied by a figure often identified as Vishnu in the form of Mohini. The sages and their wives were unsettled, and the sages grew angry. Using their rites, they created dangerous creatures and sent them against the stranger: a tiger, a serpent and a fierce dwarf-like being.

Shiva was untroubled. He took the skin of the tiger as a garment and wound the serpent around his neck as an ornament. The last creature, often named Apasmara or Muyalakan in the Tamil tradition, he subdued by stepping on its back. Then, standing on that creature, Shiva began to dance.

The sages watched, and their pride slipped away. They understood who he was and bowed to him.

Details of the story vary by text and region. In some versions the encounter is more playful, in others it is more severe. The core remains the same: the god met arrogance with a dance, not an argument.

Who is under the foot?

The small figure under Shiva's right foot is one of the most discussed details of the whole image. It is usually called Apasmara or Muyalakan. In many readings it stands for ignorance, forgetfulness or the ego, the part of us that clings to a narrow sense of self.

What is striking is that Shiva does not destroy the figure. He stands on it, lightly. The dance goes on above it.

You may hear different interpretations from different teachers. Some stress that ignorance must be mastered. Others note that it is held in place, not crushed. Both readings are found in the tradition, and it helps to hold them loosely.

Reading the image

The classic bronze Nataraja, often associated with the Chola period of South India, is packed with detail, and many teachers read each part as carrying a meaning. Here is a common reading. Keep in mind that interpretations vary.

• The damaru in the upper right hand. The small drum is linked with the sound of creation. We look at it in our lesson on the damaru.
• The flame in the upper left hand. Fire is linked with dissolution, the force that clears away. It balances the drum across from it.
• The raised palm, the abhaya mudra. The lower right hand is held up in a gesture that means "do not fear."
• The lowered hand, pointing to the raised foot. The lower left hand points toward the lifted left foot, which is read as a sign of release and refuge.
• The ring of flames. The circle of fire around the dancer is read as the cosmos in motion, the world of change in which the dance takes place.
• Flowing hair. The locks fly outward, and in many images the river Ganga is seen in them. The crescent moon is also there.
• The calm face. Look at the expression. Even as the limbs move, the face is still.

That last detail is the one people tend to remember. The body is in full motion, and the face is at rest.

Chidambaram: where the dance is said to be at home

The Tamil tradition places Shiva's dance at Chidambaram in Tamil Nadu. It is the place where Shiva is worshipped as Nataraja, and its temple is one of the most revered in the south. According to local tradition, two sages, Patanjali and Vyaghrapada, prayed to see the cosmic dance and Shiva granted their wish, dancing for them there.

Chidambaram is also one of five halls, or sabhas, associated with different dances of Shiva. The Chidambaram hall is known as the Kanaka Sabha, the golden hall. We will write about the temple in a later post.

One dance, many readings

People have found different things in this image.

• Devotees see the Lord, present in every movement of the world, and approachable.
• Dancers see the origin of their art, and many classical dancers begin their practice with a salutation to Nataraja.
• Philosophers see a picture of impermanence. Everything arises, stays a while, and dissolves, and there is a stillness behind all of it.
• Scientists and writers have been drawn to it as a picture of a universe that is not static but constantly moving.

None of these readings cancels the others. They are different ways of looking at the same figure.

What the story is really about

We tend to want a clean story in which something is destroyed and something is created, and the two are separated. The Tandava does not allow that. It puts the drum and the fire in the same body, in the same moment.

For anyone who has gone through a major ending, a job, a relationship, a season of life, that is a comforting picture. The ending and the beginning are not two separate events. They are two sides of one movement, and there is a stillness at the centre of it that does not shake.

Next time you see the dancing figure, look at the face first. Then look at the feet.