By Jagyaseni Chatterjee

It was a busy Wednesday night when he offered what might be the most scholar-like time for an interview—9 p.m. I had my questions ready, a notepad filled with scribbles. There he was on Zoom, seated upright, his calm eyes reflecting a clarity honed by years of scholarship. His tone was gentle—no rushing, no flamboyant emphasis, just steady, unbroken composure.

Dr R. Ganesh is no ordinary intellect. A scholar, poet, philosopher, and master of the ancient Indian art of Avadhana, where he simultaneously composes verses in multiple languages, solves intricate mathematical puzzles, and responds to a hundred questioners— all while preserving the rhythm and aesthetic grace of classical poetry.

He is credited with reviving the art of Avadhana in Kannada. He has performed over 1,300 Ashtavadhanams and five Shatavadhanams in both Kannada and Sanskrit. He has conceptualised new art forms such as Ekavyakti-Yakshagana, YugalaYakshagana, Ekavyakti-talamaddale, and Kavya-chitra-gita-nritya, which have seen numerous performances both in India and abroad. As veteran danseuse Padma Subrahmanyam points out, “Such intellectuals are born once in a century.”

With a sparkle in his eyes, Ganesh began the conversation, “Avadhana is an intellectual sport, indeed a demanding art—it calls for spontaneous retention, exposition, multitasking, and lateral thinking.” He continued, “In most other art forms, spontaneity is constrained within a performer’s choices. But in Avadhana, spontaneity is tested by external forces— scholars pose unpredictable questions, distractors attempt to unsettle the performer, and all answers must conform to classical prosody while retaining rasa and novelty.”

We spoke of his high school days, where he wrote long poems and soon graduated to composing hundreds of verses on the spur of the moment. “My background in debate, eloquence, and a serious hobby in painting and reading helped develop my creative faculties. I formally entered the world of Avadhana on 9 November 1981. That was my debut performance. I have never looked back since.”

There have been times when he has performed a complete Avadhana in classical Kannada without using a single Sanskrit word. In another, he composed all answers only in verse— no prose at all. But when asked about the most demanding one, he replied, “A Shatavadhana where I answered a hundred scholars in just one session, composing 10–12 verses per theme across ten diverse topics. It lasted over 11 hours!”

Ganesh’s writing is not just an output of knowledge—it is an act of cultural preservation, an artistic expression of sorts. For the ordinary among us, what is most overwhelming is his capacity to memorise. “Memory in Indian traditions is associative. You remember through images, metres, metaphors, and rhythm,” he noted. Prose, he said, lacks this internal scaffolding, while poetry lives in the mind longer. Is memory a god-gifted talent? I asked. He smiled gently, shook his head, and said, “Not necessarily. It’s a trainable faculty.”

What fascinated me—as it does almost all who meet or work with him—was how effortlessly he has blurred the lines between science and art in his own life. Adds senior dancer Praveen Kumar, “The secret, perhaps, is that he is open to all forms of art. Let me tell you a lesser-known fact about Sir,” he grinned. “He is a movie buff. And while watching, he would look at the technicalities of the dance movements. He would remark, look at how the kati is being used, or how the anga, pratyangas have been applied.”

An engineer by education, Ganesh taught mechanical engineering at R.V. College of Engineering and M.S. Ramaiah Institute of Technology, Bengaluru. He has also served as Director of Sanskrit Studies at Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, Research Officer at IGNCA, Dean of the Human Values Cell at Jain University, and visiting professor at institutions like NIMHANS and Karnataka Samskrit University.

On the other hand, he gave structure to Sangitavadhana, Nartanavadhana, and Citravadhana, and inspired many reputed artistes to perform them. Kavya-chitra-gita-nritya, perhaps one of his most beautiful contributions, is a confluence of poetry, painting, music, and dance, performed extempore.

His collaboration with B.K.S. Varma in Kavya-Chitra led to a historic Limca Record for a 24-hour non-stop performance on 15 August 1997. This programme was also organised as a fundraiser for Kargil.

His literary output is diverse— from Shatavadhana-sakvari to Shatavadhana-saradee, and from essays like Prekshaniyam to poems like Vaiphalyaphalam, his works span genres, languages, and disciplines. His D.Litt. thesis, Avadhanakale, is a pioneering work in Kannada. His compositions are part of the practical reconstruction of Natya Sastra traditions—from the purvaranga to the ashta-nayakas. He has composed over 400 songs and guided innumerable dance performances. For example, Praveen shared, “When I was working on a nayaka-based piece, I would have chosen an Athana. But Sir suggested using Pahari, and the flavour became so soulful.” His association with dancers goes beyond. He has even coined the names of their schools, as in the case of Praveen (Chithkala School of Dance) and the Kathak duo Nirupama and Rajendra (Natya Institute of Kathak & Choreography).