I met Banni Bai for the first time, when I was assigned by the South Zone Cultural Centre, to document her as a veteran artist. She was a Harikatha performer, a classical storyteller, one of the few women practitioners of this traditional art. Katha Kalakshepam, literally translates to telling stories to pass time.

When Pareekshith, son of Abhimanyu, was cursed to die within a specified time, he decided to spend those last precious hours listening to tales from the Puranas and Itihasas, and thus engage himself in spiritual activity - or understand the meaning of life and death. That according to Banni Bai was the origin of Harikatha performances.

She was 75 when I met her, to my 25. I was beginning my career as film-maker. She was past her prime but still going strong - which condition she maintained until the very time of her death. My form was new, historically young, Western in origin. Hers had an enviable lineage, with richness and absolute clarity of grammar and was deeply embedded in our cultural milieu. She accepted me with all the grace and hospitality of that culture.

She was large, with a round, fair face adorned with a huge kumkuma pottu. She sat on a bench in the hall of her home in North Madras, one of the oldest areas in Chennai. Even within the house she moved only when it was absolutely necessary. She only left the house for performances.

Until she died, she was a regular on the All India Radio and occasionally, she performed in marriages and public performances in sabhas and temples. Her voice stayed loud, true and ringing upto the very end, which was very important in Harikatha for the form combines song and narration. For abhinaya, which was originally meant to be danced, she just used her hands and face - but most expressively.

Towards the very end of her life, I attended a performance of hers in a sabha and she was way too tired and weak to perform. With infinite charm and panache, she announced, "All of you know the stories I am telling you. Just listen to me for a short while, then remember the rest on your own. I am not in good health". Many in the audience were deeply moved and amused. The performers emotional and economic need to perform never left her.

She was fiercely independent and though she was never paid very much for her performances, managed to maintain her own establishment. She was correct but not grasping in her dealings. And once committed she was unstinting in the way she shared the wealth of her repertoire. Song after song flowed, with endless narrative elaboration, it was like losing yourself in an ocean of sound and meaning.

The form particularly suited her, for it was flamboyant, even excessive in its detailing and she loved to embellish each story with variations, jokes, myriad digressions and even contemporary satire. Unlike many other classical forms, this was very direct, audience-oriented and entirely accessible. So she could constantly engage in first person address, poking fun both at herself and the audience.