When Nilakshi Barah arrived in Melbourne in 2006, she wasn’t planning to continue her dance career. She had moved to Australia because of her husband’s job, expecting to stay for just four years. But what began as a temporary move would eventually see her become one of the few people introducing and teaching Sattriya, one of India’s eight classical dance forms, in Australia.
Six months in, an invitation came. The Bengali association asked if she could perform Odissi at their Durga Puja program. She said yes, having trained under the legendary Guru Gangadhar Pradhan.
But Sattriya, the dance she learned from her mother, Guru Shrimati Minakshi Barah, since childhood, was different. “Very few people knew about it,” says Barah. “They had heard or read about it but had hardly seen any live performances.”
Born in 15th-century Assam, Sattriya was created by saint-scholar Srimanta Sankardev. It wasn’t entertainment. It was devotion—dance as prayer, performed in Assam’s places of worship. Traditionally done by monks called bhakats, who trained for years in monasteries, women didn’t always perform it.
Barah learned the dance from her mother, the way traditions pass quietly from one generation to the next.
It took seven years before she stepped onto an Australian stage with Sattriya. That first performance came in 2013 at a Bihu cultural function in Banyule Council. The audience watched something entirely new – gentle, flowing movements, intricate footwork, stories of Lord Krishna unfolding through dance.
“I gave them the opportunity to feel it,” she says.
Teaching Sattriya in Melbourne was hard at first. Bollywood classes were everywhere, and that’s what parents wanted for their kids, says Barah. She didn’t see it as competition, but it was a challenge. She had to make something deeply traditional feel relevant to people who had left their homeland behind.
Then something shifted. People started coming to her performances. For Assamese families in Melbourne, watching Sattriya felt like hearing a song from childhood, it connected them back. “Now they want their kids to learn this art,” she says.
She’ll never forget one performance with three young Assamese girls, born and raised in Melbourne, who had never seen Sattriya before. They were eager. They wanted to learn. “When they performed on stage flawlessly, everyone in the audience went crazy,” she recalls. Three Australian-born girls, carrying a 600-year-old tradition on their shoulders, moved as if they’d been doing it their whole lives. That’s when she knew the tradition wasn’t just surviving; it was being reborn.
Australian audiences are genuinely curious, she says. They’ve read about Sattriya, but never seen it live. They ask about the Assamese silk costumes, the traditional jewellery, the hauntingly beautiful borgeet songs, its origins, its meaning. Some have even become students. Two non-Assamese women learned from her and performed with the Assamese community at the Assam Convention in Melbourne – something she never imagined possible in 2006.
Collaborations followed. She’s worked with other Indian classical dancers, bringing Sattriya alongside Bharatanatyam and Odissi. The Federation of Indian Music and Dance has appreciated her work. She’s trained members of the Assamese Association of Melbourne to perform at conventions in both Sydney and Melbourne. Her team has even performed at Marvel Stadium to a crowd of 20,000 plus during Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit.
She travels back to Assam often, not just to visit, but to stay current. “This is not a tradition frozen in time. It evolves. New choreography. New music. New interpretations. I want to stay connected to all of it.”
Nearly two decades later, Barah has been practising and teaching in Australia longer than she ever planned. She carries a tradition passed down for centuries, introducing it to people who’ve never heard its songs or seen its movements.
Support Independent Community Journalism
Dear Reader,The Indian Sun exists for one reason: to tell stories that might otherwise go unheard.
We report on local councils, state politics, small businesses and cultural festivals. We focus on the Indian diaspora and the wider multicultural community with care, balance and accountability. We publish in print and online, send regular newsletters and produce video content. We also run media training programs to help community organisations share their own stories.
We operate independently.
Community journalism does not have the backing of large media corporations. Advertising revenue fluctuates. Platform algorithms change. Costs continue to rise. Yet the need for credible, grounded reporting in a multicultural Australia has never been greater.
When you support The Indian Sun, you support:
• Independent reporting on issues affecting migrant communities
• Coverage of local and state decisions that shape daily life
• A platform for small businesses and community groups
• Media training that builds skills within the community
• Journalism accountable to readers
We cannot cover everything, but we work to cover what matters.
If you value thoughtful reporting that reflects Australia’s diversity, we invite you to contribute. Every donation helps us maintain the quality and consistency of our work.
Please consider making a contribution today.
Thank you for your support.
The Indian Sun Team
