It’s really hard for me to write what dance means to me and the impact it has made on my life. That’s probably because It can never be expressed in words, my write up here is rather a thank you letter. A token of gratitude. An ode of passion. I don’t know what to call it. All I know is that I have someone and something that came into my life so late but I’m sure glad that it found its way to me. A reflection on my middle school days fills me with memories of either going to class, attending dance shows across the city or rehearsing for my own shows! For what started out as an afterschool activity to channel my energies, dance quickly became my defining factor.
Over the years, dance has spoken to me at different levels. As my first exposure to dance, I never had a concrete reason for why I wanted to dance, but that it was the only thing I wanted to do. A lot of people told me that I’m a natural when it comes to Indian classical dance. And I hate that. Because I’m not and no one really can be. Ok, sorry. I don’t mean to say that those art styles aren’t challenging. They certainly are in their own way. Before I was and Indian classical dancer, I used to do ballet and tap. Not for long though, just a couple of years. But the only highlight of being a ballet dancer was the glossy, baby pink, bubblegum Dum-Dum lollipops that awaited me in shining steel in at the end of 2 hours of torcher. I cherished those lollipops and until this day, have 26 wrappers pinned to my room wall — I quit before I could make it 30. As I grew, with my art, every rehearsal/show revealed to me a different facet. The sheer beauty and vastness of the form, the dynamics of movement, of being one with myself during a performance, the high of being on stage and losing myself to something larger, are discoveries I made along the way. So, what makes Bharatanatyam dancing far more challenging is all those feelings that I go through. I mean it’s like a teenage girl and her hormones, but the emotions are just a little more matured (sometimes). Above all, the one thing that has been constant through these various changes has been the spirituality of movement. Of living the highest of Indian philosophies, “aham bhrahmāsmi”, or “I am that Divinity”, or oneness, where the difference between the art and the artiste cease to exist. It happens not through performance but through immersion, assimilation and marinating in the art, for which we use the word “sādhana”, which is much more than practice, it is about being and living it.
Dance has made me stop and enjoy the moment. To breathe life into the stillness within each movement, to experience the joys of various emotions without being judgmental, and most of all, to be one – one with myself, one with the music, one with the movement and one with a higher spiritual force. My solo works also reflects my own personal connection with the art and its universal expression of human emotion. Dance is an absolute passion. I do however sometimes doubt the markers of true success as an artist – is it personal growth or satisfaction, is it public acknowledgement, or is it something deeper? There must be an understanding that it is an uphill battle and the road to success is not an easy one not a measurable one as well. Success is self-realization, success is being able to connect to the supreme one, success is devotion here. Making art that touches people requires one to think big, to think beyond oneself and with a vision and dedication that is
almost surreal. I have been fortunate to have people in my life that have had faith in me and my work. Dance is something more, it is submission to the supreme and I am proud to be one of the athletes of God. It is the pure satisfaction in creating something new, in presenting your vision and the possible feelings it can evoke in audiences is beautiful.
Arangetram is the culmination of a dancer’s journey, a journey the dancer takes from the simple to the complex, from devotion to love and finally to bliss. My association with dance was elevated to the next level as I started to work with my dance teacher (Guruji) one on one preparing for my dance graduation performance. I know, this thing has a graduation too! Yes, it does. But not so much with a cap and gown, but rather with what feels like 300 pounds of jewelry and enough makeup to make you unrecognizable. But the diploma is still there! The one-year journey to my Arangetram was the most transforming year in my life. Not sure if it was the enchanting basement that we worked in. I really couldn’t tell you if it was the way the music bounced off the walls and harmoniously reverberated through the ears. I couldn’t even tell you if it was the subtle, yet mesmerizing photographs and gold-plated idols that adorned the walls. Or was it the charcoal colored incense sticks that whisked around strong scents of sandalwood. I don’t think I could pinpoint to you exactly what was is that basement that made those rehearsals so special. Every time I was down there, I never felt like there was anywhere higher to go. I had already reached the highest place in the world. The place that was closest to God. And I never felt like coming back down.
