A Dancer's Journal

My Englsh is Latin

2012-01-19T15:57:00.000-08:00

I have been meaning to write about academic jargon for a considerable stint of time. A form of expression that is used by a distinct few and scarcely understood by fewer. When despair is defeatism and happiness is exultation and the the dictionary is your source of meaning, you know you are chocking on words that cannot transcend your diaphragmatic sense of being. A parlance where the painted words smudge the intended emotion as 'besotted' becomes a replacement for 'love' and 'alleviate' a rescue for 'help'. This locution locates itself in the centre of civilization becoming unavailingly accessible to the privileged. An addictive indulgence of words is a cerebral high as language is an accolade and praises are composed in its veins.The laurels of language adorn individuals as an evidence of consummation with wisdom. It is an epidemic of elocution and breeds in the compendiums of books. A barbican of words are a camouflage when you cannot read in between lines. I have tried to ambricate my bestrewn thoughts with an attempt to encapsulate the albatross of my plight . The credence of my failure to disseminate this idea goes to the incomprehensible argot of academics that I have simply failed to domesticate.

Me - middle class? Nah!

2012-01-12T16:40:00.000-08:00

Life ...
It has been..
There is..
Sometimes....
How do I start this god damn thing?
Phew! Academics can ruin your expression.. your voice !
It has been a very hectic month... I have had no social life , it has just been loads of studying, writing and working. The body , mind and if there is anything else has all been overloaded with work. I remember having sat in the tube in the morning inspired to blog my thoughts... What was it? What were thoughts? Where did they all go ? I simply cannot remember, I am sure they'll come back .... the thoughts find a way to ebb along your footsteps sooner or later..
There are multiple random things that are bombarding my brain right now.. I am going to start with one thing...
A friend told me a few days ago that my thinking is not "middle class" ...
Yup! I had a blank reaction! How do you react to a comment like this? Get angry , take offense, feel proud, wonder why? etc etc etc ..YES! the context is important ! But I ll not go there! It is about "being middle class" that intrigues me ...So I am not middle class because -

I ask existential questions..
I do not conform to the rules of the society
I am not part of the system
I question the social structure and institutions
I do not want to own a house
I do not want a stable job
I do not want to have children
I do not want to get married
I do not want a family
I do not abide to the request of my parents
I am not "cultured"
I am anti-social
I am not rich
I am not poor
I am not intelligent
I am not dumb
I am too sensitive
I am too numb

Apparently my thoughts belong to a different socio economic class! Phew!

Asking existential questions, questioning the system, looking at a liberal way of thinking - don't they plague individuals in every walk of life ... Aren't these thoughts classless in many ways! People will brand me a Marxist now! Categories! boxes and brands and labels! Enough!

I ll be laughed at... and I have to make an extra effort to not care... I have to ignore the hurt and pain and say that there are things that matter more... Find them !

Find cracks in the walls of the system, the crevices of society. Like a pest I need to lurk under the shadow of people's shitty thoughts. They come up with highly effective ways to eliminate an individual .. to eradicate this pest that hides in the hidden sewer of the society. I belong to a bloody class that has no place in the social strata. I am sure there is research being done to eliminate this virus .. to vanquish anything that disrupts the smooth functioning of this society! I am the dung beetle, the earth worm and the cockroach of this freaking clean society!

Here I am!

2011-10-28T15:41:00.001-07:00

Its like the tears have forgotten their pathways and returned to their source. There is an unsettled feeling and a trembling force. The noise in my head is getting louder by the minute , like the senses are going numb and everything is a blur. There is a word to describe this feeling , is there? Is it an emotion that has not been given a name? Is it remorse or pain that cannot be explained?

In choice of words I search for a meaning , an expression that has forsaken language. I ll piece it together like beaded pearls that adorns the mannequin of lie.

Is there a purpose to life beyond the body. Life goes on through mothers and fathers and grand mothers and babies that die. What is life beyond birth? What is life before you die? Tell me more , that there is more and it is not all a big fat lie.Not in sickness or in health or thick and thin will any of us find the reason. A reason that you will not find in debt or rotting richness even. I would really be pissed if humanity was just an experiment that some vicious force has designed . I would want to write a writ petition for 'LIFE' violates 'HUMAN RIGHTS' .

I see the withering leaves on my skin and the hues of age are alight. The impervious child in me is long dead and the adult is about to die. What is the purpose of all this joy and all the rotten pain. The ringing laughter that fades away and when the crying has gone dry. An unsettled stillness haunts my moves and shadows the living day. Here I am! ... But where is 'here'? What is 'I' and what is it 'to be'?

:(

2011-10-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

Today a void was created in my life and the lives of many. My past is filled with memories and a part of my future will be filled with a vacuum that no 'BODY' can fill.

The unpredictability of life , nature , universe and our incapability to deal with it .

Here I am sitting in front of a lifeless computer instead of grieving. The intensity has not hit me because of the distance ,Neptune is a cold planet you see- the heat of the sun does not strike its surface. Poor mercury is crying her heart out now, her tears evaporate and freeze but there is no end to this tsunami of emotions. I sit here on the other side of the planet listening to lectures of philosophy and the purpose of life on earth. The information comes like a news flash on television 'Millions of people lost their homes and lives in an earthquake / Tsunami, War!' It appears to be a movie , it has not happened , it is not happening , it can never happen.

A sense of peace, an invisible silence dawns on you. You cannot perform, there is no one to respond or receive or nothing to react to . Impossible to visualize the image the gaze pierces eternity. A sense of balance is lost and the body shivers.

I sit here! staring into the dead monitor like it is the sweetest person I have known in my life . The kindest face that held my childhood secure. The strongest force of love as it withered away like a tree.. I failed to hold her in my arms and fight the universe from snatching her away from this world. The universe won! She belongs to the trees and the sky and the soil now ... Maybe I do as well... maybe not! I ll miss her .. I LOVE HER SOOOOOOOO MUCH and I simply cannot stop crying :(

When stories weave with simple thoughts

2011-09-27T12:29:00.001-07:00

Alma sat on the wooden park bench that was placed on a green carpet of mowed grass. She had done this for a couple of years now. Every day, she walked away from her daily chores to steal a moment and sell it to silence. As a daughter, a sister , a wife and a mother she had played every role brilliantly well. If her life were to be a film , she would definitely be an oscar nominee. Patience was her strength and hard work her dearest friend . Alma sat there for a while reminiscing of her life. the seat felt warm as she took a seat , like someone had been there before. She saw no one around for as far as her sight could go. She sat there wondering how life would be if she was more than just playing a domestic role. She had seen a couple of women who worked and lived alone. They looked so neat, perfectly made and successfully pristine.Then she remembered that it was half past five and her kid would be home alone. She gathered herself and took every step closer to home . Just a couple of minutes ago a woman sat in her place staring at the expanse of the sky . She was given the 'employee of the month' award a promotion and a hike in pay. She was on top of the world but simply decided to do away with life.

A man focused on a cross-word puzzle or may be it was su-do-ku, with a mission to fill those little rows and columns . With his golden watch and an expensive suit , its easy to solve life's' puzzle right away. Kwame sat next to him on a random train that was on its way to terminate in another place. He wore a simple expression of humanity along with his tattered clothes. He looked at his co-passengers' coat, an expensive one that he would could never afford . He had to say something about this piece of fabric of excellent quality and texture. 'Excuse me" ,Kwame said as the man with his golden watch, turned to look away, without having to acknowledge this 'being' and listen to what he has to say.There is obviously no conversation that can happen between them, as their eyes would never want to meet or lives cross pathways. He had to say it, so did he! Kwame asked him courteously to move his cape that had overflowed into his seat and simply dozed away.

Everything in store

2011-09-16T06:42:00.000-07:00

It says 'Made in China, Taiwan , India or Bangladesh', and you believe it. It says 'Made with the finest silk, organic produce, not tested on animals, contains no fruits and nuts, without artificial colors or 100%vegetarian', and you have never questioned it. You can google for them, order them online , call them for a free home delivery or just geographically position them. Some have been there for centuries and gained the status of antiques, vintage and rare while a few have a very low shelf life and often turn stale. There is one for every one in every shape and size , choose all the colors you want, weather you are black or white. Its is worth a penny, a pound or simply labelled 'priceless' and there is not a single thing that is not up for sale. From people to places and pots and pans there is a market for everything. The fools that we are, claim to own this earth , the universe and all the other things.

Let me start from where life began, well... things, as I perceive. You'll have to buy some contraception for life to not begin. Its a 'chicken and egg situation' as you can already see. Let us keep it simple and say that the sperm meets the egg and new life begins. The little thing growing inside, does not know that there are a million things manufactured and sold in its name. From medicines to doctors and books 'What should be your baby's name' . It grows inside this womb that is void of super markets, malls and television, what a bore pre-natal growth is :( .. This little thing grows feeding on its mothers' shopping spree and it runs out of space and craves for more to see. The world awaits with diapers , pacifiers and a gift voucher at 'Mom & me'. It cries out loud as it enters the world, to explore and wanting to grab everything it does not need. The bank waits till the child learns to say 'bank' ready to pounce on it, meanwhile with 'life insurance' they haunt its dearest vie. Then you know the rest, all we have done is bought things. The world we live in, has taught us all , only to earn more money. Then you live to buy and sell and sell and buy a bit more . Then you die and make sure to have saved enough, just before you go. They need money to find a plot of land to bury you that you could never afford. You might want to give your organs away now that they are out-of-date. They'll burn you or probably spend a lot to preserve your body in formaldehyde. The pension, if you have some will keep the living alive.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and girls, Rich and poor and Alive and dead. Congratulations!!! for all of us have arrived at a time and space where 'Living has become synonymous with buying and life an euphemism for money'. Everything is up for grabs in stores and life is up for sale!

Just Awake

2011-09-10T19:21:00.000-07:00

I am up all night! Lost, insecure, confused, emotional just like a tide in the sea reacting to the full moon with simply no choice. Emotions surge followed by a downfall of tears. There is no reason to be happy or there is no reason to be sad. The body and mind are in search of an inner peace that is nowhere to be found. The nights are quiet, but the darkness screams in horror ! It cannot hide behind light anymore. The day has been its best refuge and in the days of the moon it lurks without a camouflage . How can I dissuade myself to be logical when eccentricity has become life? I define my madness and it is crazier than lunacy . To act normal is such a full time job. When there is no music in the sweetest of poetry and no rhythm in the percussion of breath, where does one find dreams when there is absolutely no sleep felt in lullabies ? What is security but the warmth of your lovers arms, where you drift into your islands of loneliness and return to the shores of solitude.
I had to express these random thoughts and share .. To know that there is someone out there ,feeling the same way I do . With no clue of what life does bring and one should do. I have to learn to digest my past beyond ignoring its existence. To accept anothers' without too many judgements. My yesteryears have confined me to a life-time imprisonment of regret and the present has the key to bail me out of this mess. I am my own enemy and why would I want to defeat 'me'?
Now that I have expressed this , I ll put myself back to a deep slumber . There is more to dream and how would I if cannot sleep I? ll build a future with my thoughts, you shall see and before they house me they will all be washed away by the sea. Time, it says is late , almost early morning to sleep but who gives a damn as the sun never sets , its just what we want to see .

Revisiting England

2011-09-05T09:03:00.000-07:00

I take the bicycle and cycle across the canal . I love the afternoons here . There are fewer people and more quietude. With streaming thoughts , the flowing stream and the focus on the narrow cycle lane I travel with the breeze. There is something about this country that I love. Despite the grey skies and freezing temperatures, it gives a sense of solitude and peace of mind. Its a strawberry and blueberry summer which is about to end and autumn will soon fall ... The trees will all adorn themselves with a couture of colors and it will be a spectacle to see them all dressed up before they go nude in the winters' cold.
Love the galleries. Tate Britain is inspires the artist in me . The classics of the 17th and 18th century always have an enchanting effect on the senses. So inspiring to travel the lanes of History. More like time travel. To see that through love and pain , wars and gains these artists created work and their life reflects in every stroke and every color.
The portrait Gallery simply baffled me. Assured me of the beauty and talent of our times . Made me realize about the perfection that man-kind strives to achieve with every step. The mistakes and miracles continue to baffle us and we are all part of this entire magical phenomena.
Loving every moment of England. Loving the fact that I am completely lost . Realizing the thirst for knowledge and hunger for experience deep within. Letting the body and mind explore and experience every moment .

Home! A place in your head :)

2011-08-23T12:17:00.000-07:00

What is home ? A place where memories live . A fire place on a winter night. A cup of chai on a rainy day Familiar walls and doors ajar. Windows that creak or floors that remember your feet. Silhouettes of barren trees in winter , the monsoon showers , the sun burns , cracked heels
A pair of arms that welcome you home or the embraces that are composed in wombs.. Familiar faces are dawns and dusk. Smiles and frowns are the route maps to the soul. Conversations are food for thought.

All my life I have been a wanderer, a free spirit I would call myself traveling through places and hearts .. I always dreamt of a home, a place that I could always go back to . A place where I would feel comfortable, safe and secure . I refused to stay in a place and was always accused of being of too scared to stay put in a situation . But what is home ? What is this place that we dream of ? A Utopian place where painting perfection is only in your perception and in truth its all just a bunch of colors smothered over a nameless canvas . The beauty of reality lies in the acceptance .. That the soil beneath your shoes is where food comes from. What you flush down the tolet shall shower as rains on your face . The naked skin will soon hide anothers' nudity . A lump of clay, a bag of trash, a ball of meat and just air is all what we are made of . As a friend once said, once you are dead , they do not address you by the name anymore . You are just the body that you bury and you carry the memories back home.

Space or distance

2011-07-23T04:15:00.000-07:00

The universe has decided how close you can get to the sun and what is good for you?
There have been frontiers and boundaries telling what is good for us.
You cannot get too close to the sun or you simply cannot stay in water. Have you ever tried balancing on a needle and a tried to fly on a feather. well.. I am blabbering for all I know and I do not give a damn. All i see is boundaries and bondage and its just too much efforts to question.

different walks

2011-06-25T02:00:00.000-07:00

As children we always wanted to grow up and do all the cool things adults do. I do not remember feeling hopeless or bound by the world.. In fact I do not remember much before I went to school. I do not even remember myself.. I find that fascinating . Is memory in human beings is taught, learnt or innate? Do you remember the first time you fell ill or the clothes you wore, the food that you ate, the toys that you had, the music etc etc..
the other day I was watching a couple of birds fly near a lake in Bangalore. I was wondering if all the birds perched on the trees were watching all the humans. So If they do not have a job, mobile phones and televisions and many worldly duties and responsibilities what do they do when they have free time. Free time- when they are not eating, procreating, drinking, hunting or sleeping ( the basic survival tasks)
I have not met anyone who has made growing old sound like a lot of fun. You look at someone and say.. cool , I want grey hair and those beautiful wrinkles. Everyone wants to be stuck in their youth. Strong , dreamy and beautiful youth. It was my birthday a couple of days ago..
Nothing profound to say.. just rejected proposals- no pay- loads of work are here to stay..
A dream that everything is going to be okay .. It has never been and will probably get worse.. But things are good as they are :)

But how?

2011-06-17T22:03:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged for a while. I have been composing more letters, filling more applications, drafting more proposals and writing more emails than ever before . The joy of paper work . Imagine being a lawyer , your romance is constantly with legal jargon on bond sheets , in black and white clothes in stinky courtrooms or offices filled with papers, files and books.
I constantly drift from one thought to another, simply because they are all connected and unfortunately we are only taught to think in compartments. I wish, having a garden was compulsory for every IT geek, or every student was also asked to survive in a forest or a village for a month before writing their board exams in math and science. Wish we were taught to cook and be kind to animals . To dance in the rain without ties around our necks. Wish we were taught the joy of teaching, where every student went to a child and taught him how to read. Wish we were taught how the physically and mentally challenged felt and made our school accessible to everyone.
Wish we had been to a mosque , a gurudwara , a church and more and learnt to appreciate the beauty in all these faiths. Wish we were taught to recycle plastic and paper and glass and cloth . Wish we were taught the joy of walking or cycling. Wish we were taught how to conserve our lakes ,rivers and wells. Wish we were taught how to nurse the wound of a human being , a dog or a dying squirrel. Wish we were taught to leave the wild animals alone and appreciate their beauty respecting their space. Wish I had bird watching as a subject, I would have loved to stare out of the window at cuckoos ,mynas and more. Wish a teacher had told me how to observe bugs ants, grasshoppers , caterpillars and learn the art of living from them. Maybe sculpting, carpentry, weaving in schools would have made me a different person . Why is Bill Gates richer for being good at what he does and why is an artisan who takes six months to embroider a piece of cloth living in rags for being the best in the world? Sometimes the simplest things are taken for granted like cloth, shelter and food. Like nature, wild and woods.
Education is such a silly thing! telling us how to grow . The joy of experiencing is lost in this arduous task of learning. The perception of the world as a living being and as a social being seem world apart. The more we put ourselves in a bubble the more isolated we become. I wish we could change this, I wish I could change.. But how? But how? But how?

Photo courtesy Lalitha Venkat

Here is a beautiful picture shared by one of my dear friends Lalitha. You have to spot the frog in this picture . To look at the most beautiful things prevalent around us , we have to learn to take time to observe, experience and appreciate its beauty.

Wrong timing!

2011-05-14T10:53:00.000-07:00

Life and its talent for wrong timing.
Just when you have started to enjoy long rides , the fuel price is hiked or even better your car breaks down.
You will simply not find a place to eat when you have not eaten for 4 hours.
It rains when you have not taken an umbrella. When you have to say 'I love you' your phones' battery runs out or you are simply out of credit. The reception is really bad when you are on a phone interview. Just when intimacy makes sense you are suddenly thrown into a long distance relationship. You go to school when you should be playing. You work like crazy when you should be living. You are too old by the time you should have traveled the entire world. The person who you loves another . Another person loves you like crazy . Those who love, do not want to commit . Those who commit will never let you leave or live. Its too cold when you want to wake up in the morning . You fall ill just before a vacation. Your bike stolen when the insurance just expires. You want to mail something important when you cannot remember your password. you are too tall for the ' who is the shortest contest' and too thin to be a healthy kid. You have diabetes when you love sweets. You want to run with a broken leg.
I want to blabber as I cannot make no sense . It is time to sleep but I am still awake
You fall when you have to be in control and time flies when you need to get a million things done .
I write these random things cos I want to write but my body refuses to emit thoughts. I want to write but my mind does not feel like it .

'MOM' me!

2011-04-29T08:52:00.000-07:00

I work with around 20 children almost everyday during workshops. I do not have favorites. They are all my favourites. Every kid is an universe and they welcome you into their world without fears and prejudices. You shower love, they embrace you with open arms :).. Manan- loves to look out of the window, can stare at bugs and birds all day. Vishnu - is five and wants to be grammatically correct all the time . Ardhya - strongly feels that she is smarter and can handle a heavy role in a play . she is not at all satisfied with her two lines . Nanditha - very quiet but colored a monkey mask green, blue and pink while everyone stuck to the color brown. Manav- believed with all his heart that if he flapped his arms really fast he would be able to fly. He simply could not understand the concept of gravity . Raheal , every time she read about violence in a story, she would cry . She changed the 'jack and the bean stalk story' in such a way that jack did not steal from the giant and made friends with him as he lived all by himself on the clouds with no one to play to play with. Jasmine , she loves jasmine. Adnan- thinks that rockets are propelled by gigantic springs. Prahalad , simply could not figure out why the farmers had to grow food when they could just could go the market and buy it. Zoya , did not want to do ballet because a boy was teaching her to be a princess. Charvi, a fantastic story teller. Loves to run in the park and wants everyone to run with her.
The little child in the picture is Mudra, my Kanda. My dance teacher's daughter. I have known her since she was in her mom's womb. what music she liked and how she loved to move every time she kicked in her cosy space. The day she was born was such a magical day. I simply could not believe that life came into being from nothingness in such form , shape and size. She fit in my palms like a Pudina plant ..:) Her fingers and her entire palm was the size of my little finger and her eyes .. she seldom opened them and when she learned how to smile, laughter flowed into the universe. I would hear her breath and put her to sleep with a hummmmm a lullaby improvised on the spot, to fit her taste and mood. She responded to stories before she could say a word. She listened, she would say things in silence, her body would express her needs, moods and emotions. When she fell ill or had to get a shot , I could not understand how this tiny bundle of innocence could bear all the pain. We loved to dance together and I had managed to injure her nose during a dance class. She never blamed me for causing so much pain . She was so forgiving . All she needed was a hug and my monkeyness to keep her smiling. I have not met her for almost a year now. I miss her and it is lovely to see her grow form a distance. Her teachers are now her experiences.
I miss her! She was the one who invoked the mother in me.
There is a mother in all of us . Nature is omnipresent as motherhood. I have many times wanted to adopt a child.When I interact with children , I have a strong urge to take them home, make them my own . But! is it about possessiveness and ownership? Does a mother own a child as it is an extension of her own body? I was once told by an educator that I will not know how a mother feels because I have not given birth to a child. That was the most hurtful thing that anyone has ever told me in my life. Almost all my friends are married and have children and I love them all. To all of you mothers out there , how would it feel when you get attached to a child as your own and at the end of the day he/she goes back to someone else ( I fail to express it in words).At the end of the day, mother knows best! There is a very strong urge to own a kid and I tell myself that it is the most selfish thing to wish for. I love children and I love teaching them . Through teaching, I have also come to realize that there is more than one way of being a mother and loving children. This way, I am not stuck with one kid.. I get to meet a new angel almost every day. A new universe everyday. To love them all without owning them . They will love me back and they will go home and forget about me . No possessiveness . Just that moment that defines a mother and a child.. and then like everything else in this world ...it fades away into the oblivion . Memories remain... and they turn into precious possessions with time :) and they are all mine !
I have to share this poem that the children wrote during a summer camp . The workshop named Granny's courtyard focused on farming and all 5 year old angels composed this poem.

Silkworm gives you silk,
Cows give you milk..
Horses take you around ,
Water comes from ground...
Snakes scare away mice,
Fields give you rice...
Plough your fields with bull,
Sheep gives you wool...
Hens give you eggs,
Earthworms have no legs...
Bees give you honey,
Pigs are so funny...
Ha ha ha ha hah

Looks like my ultimate destiny is to become a teacher and share their world with mine :)

Why blog???

2011-04-19T07:49:00.000-07:00

You might wonder why I blog? It is almost like masturbating right? You fuck with your emotions visualizing a reciprocator. All these thoughts and experiences are already registered and encoded in my memory bank , they why make this futile effort to word it on a digital landscape. Is there a scarcity of people who respond to my thoughts in the physical world? Honestly , I do not know why I blog . A friend of mine who has inhaled shakespeare ,sniffs my blog once in a while regardless of all the grammatical errors and I asked him why. He said it is fun to know what is going on in my head. These are extremely trivial and mundane things that are doodles in my head that probably are not meant to be published in a daily chronicle.
A nightmare.. I woke up in the morning screaming- after a bad dream. I remember all the details of my dreams when I wake up. My dream- I saw my friend burning herself to death with a long piece of fabric that she was dancing with. She did not scream for help but I saw her burn in pain while I decided to visit an adjacent temple to fulfill my husbands' wishes. Have you ever watched the human skin melt like a candle in the dark. She burnt herself to keep me alive and I hated myself for not approaching her to protect her from this disastrous incident. All the characters, the place in which it happened were from my life , my past and my present . I went running to see her corpse while all my friends stop to console me . They tell me she is gone for good. For my good. I walk in to my old house to see her burnt body wrapped up in a blanket while her legs are exposed. She is wearing my sisters' trousers but I had to go ... Go and get some work done. Fulfill my duties of being some one else . To circumambulate a stone they called god.
Dreams are meant to be interpreted ? I asked my questions and drew my own conclusions based on this bizarre incident . Is it relevant for me to share this? with who? and why? I still share because , unlike water I can never keep my emotions compressed in an unexposed soul. Like fire , I erupt.. giving warmth, spreading love, burning lives and destroying as well.. There is ample more in the core , this blog is just a channel for me to erupt , spit, spew, eject, discharge and excrete ...Apologies if it comes in your way. Chose another path or simply choose not to read. You enter at your own risk because not everything is pleasant what I reveal :)

I know..

2011-04-17T23:58:00.000-07:00

Most of my conversations start with this phrase. An egoistic 'I' followed by a strong emotional verb. I remember my father telling me not to know a lot in life, because that will lead to less learning. He always told me that women should not be educated too much and even if they are they should not gloat their intelligence because the world is not ready for it . I found it extremely offensive and was inspired to grasp, absorb and inhale every ounce of experience that life threw at me. He had once told me that it would be extremely difficult to find a husband for me if I achieved too much .. that a woman always looks for a companion who is stronger, more intelligent, more experienced and wiser. They were all said in jest as he has always been supportive and proud of all my choices in life. Not entirely happy or accepting but he has let me make my own mistakes and learn from them and I love him for that :)
Recently, a dear friend of mine told me that it is very difficult to share any of his experiences with me because I claim to know all the details already through past experiences. Personally, I felt that his experiences are new and was eager to listen to his thoughts but unfortunately I had projected myself in a manner that did not invite him to share. I would have probably ignored if it was some random person saying this but it was my dearest friend expressing his honest view.Angry at myself , have been contemplating on this behavior of mine.
I have always had amazing teachers in life. Selfless , giving and eccentricity personified. My Bharatnatyam teacher, music teachers, my father and my friends. They were teachers eager to give away all their years of experiences wrapped up in a magic match box to me . Every moment of discovery was announced to me , an invention experimented on me and success shared with me. Simple things- like my teacher never wasted paper, she recycled all old invitations and cards to doodle her daily tasks and thoughts(I do that too), she would tell me what was the trick to do my elaborate hair-do within a few minutes and also explain to me nuances of shringaara and abhinaya drawing experiences from her life. My music teacher would teach me all the nuances he/she would have taken years to master though I would take years to learn them. They would talk about travel about places they had seen, people they met, crazy anecdotes, food, languages, music, painitings , monuments, trees, snow in winters, children, jokes, goof-ups and more and more and more.. I loved it ...every moment of it and when I went to these places I could relive their past .. I saw what they saw, listened to life through their ears and shared my new experiences with them with all the changes time brings and loads of masala added to it .
All these selfless teachers have imbibed in me a sense of sharing without fears of copyrights, patents, possessiveness , ownership or ego.. and there is an unquenchable thirst in me for knowledge and every person and his experience is a great teacher. I am bit too loud and sometimes might come across as being intimidating , proud, self indulgent etc. I thought it would mellow down with time and age but its been like this since I can remember. So my dearest friends , I want to listen .. 'I know' simply means I want to share. I will make an attempt to stay quiet and listen more. My father was right , If I say I know .. I will never give myself space to listen and know more... here it is people ... ' I do not know' because every experience of yours is new to me , Please tell me.. I am all ears :)

'Bus' kar!

2011-04-14T09:07:00.000-07:00

Traveling in BMTC buses... I have been meaning to write about it for soo long.
I am extremely proud to announce that it has been almost a year since I have been using public transport to commute everywhere in the city. It started initially when my car broke down occasionally and then one day the poor vehicle decided to call it quits. My car is now willing to be on the road but I seem to be extremely delighted with the simplicity of our dear buses.
Public transport in Bangalore is extremely efficient . The metro construction work is the only thing that creates traffic jams in the city on a regular basis. Considerable number of people travel by buses , thanks to the convenience and comfort that the AC volvo buses provide to all the city dwellers.
I used to hate the way bus-drivers drove on the streets while driving a car. But now I totally sympathize with them. Imagine driving a vehicle with the onus of many lives just for a job and a mere salary. Every time they damage the bus that costs around 70 lakhs, it is cut out of their salary. Every time they meet with an accident , they lose their jobs. Somehow I am unable to express the empathy in words. I would go mad if I had to drive a bus in heavy traffic the entire day ..
The other day, I was on a bus in a heavy traffic jam at an odd hour. there was an accident, It was the pedestrians' fault who tried to cross the road without the zebra-crossing signal. It was a spot death. Can you imagine yourself in the bus driver's shoes? They wear simple footwear , they cannot afford shoes many times. To have killed a person unintentionally, to lose a job and trauma for the rest of his life.
I learn a lot about their profession while commuting. Like they need to go through a five day special training workshop if they have to drive volvos. They get medical insurance, life insurance, pensions, travel expenses and a good 15 to 20 k salary. The air port service drivers get paid more while the normal blue bus drivers get paid less. Many are villagers who have moved to the city in search of a better life. I hear them speak in accents and dialects of kannada from Dharwad, mangalore, belgaum, uttara kanada and more. They play Radio and most of them play kannada songs . They wear white uniforms and they get a pair of white clothes ! There are people/managers who drive the drivers crazy!
Hmmmmmm.. There is more to say .. probably not in words... It sounds more like mundane information than a personal experience . I love traveling in buses because somewhere these drivers take upon themselves the collective tension of all the passengers. You can sit back, nap, read a book, listen to music, talk to a friend, phone, work or simply look out of the window and admire the city.

I the robot?

2011-04-12T08:23:00.000-07:00

I am entitled to have horrible days .. absolutely disgustingly horrible days. To sulk, whine, complain , nag are my birth rights. The first thing I did as I enter this world was cry . I cried because I was pushed into this world against my will and choice and I was forced the first responsibility of breathing. I should have revolted like many children and stopped inhaling air from a polluted atmosphere. Back then it was less polluted so may be I considered living for a change. I cried for attention, food, water, sleep, touch, affection and almost everything that I wanted. Maturity, patience and tolerance are simply not my innate qualities. The presence of these factors is directly proportionate to my acceptance of society.

Have you found yourself trying to be mature 24/7 in a relationship? How long do you last before the inner child kicks in and you say something or do something stupid to create a havoc in serene waters of love and intimacy. 'Understanding' who came up with this word??? What is this thing with compatibility? oh! Do not get me started about attraction now!

I need a hug .. truly badly need a hug right now.. and I can cry , whine or crib but it does not make sense because i am not two years old anymore. Do you see the logic in this? Have been visiting the IT city in Bangalore for a summer workshop for the past two days. So many software engineers in the city . So many and all these bee hive buildings to imprison them with work and more bee hive apartments to imprison them to family.
I was glad I did not belong to this cocoon. I probably belong to another box where I am more bankrupt than the least paid employee here but aimlessness nevertheless. They are all working so hard but why? all their focus attention and time is consumed by this digital web. But why?
I do not say art is any better or less. But there is a sense being attached to your own emotions all the time. It is impossible to create art like a machine unless you are copier machine making copies of the mona lisa. I am lost ! I truly am! to grow up I understand is about maturity , acceptance and embracing the world. Does it include de-sensitizing yourself? Locking your emotions? achieving mechanical perfection? I rather be an immature , stubborn imbecile then!

liVe life :@

2011-04-12T06:50:00.000-07:00

Has it ever happened to you that you have had a long stressful day with everything going wrong since the moment you woke up and it dominoes into your travel, work, relationships, family, traffic , bankruptcy and you tell yourself that nothing can go wrong anymore and then... It does??? After a saga of a day I come back home to see the entire house locked, gate, doors and everything that can be securely locked. No one at home and then obviously my mobile phone is not working. I manage to get the keys from a neighbor who is shocked as well but has no information about the situation. Fear, anxiety and sheer hopelessness..
I screamed soooo loudly.. it is a noisy city ... No one hears your cry .. I sat there crying as I did could not remember my fathers' phone number... i did not know what to do ?
I still do not know what to do .. i am in the house with no way of contacting my family and no one to talk to ... so I blog this state of my life .. live for whatever it means .

Solo- so low?

2011-04-06T19:36:00.000-07:00

I decided to travel alone to get some perspective. For a couple of years I have been a victim of obsession, where I am either consumed by someone's thoughts or have constantly been haunted by thoughts , memories and presence of another. This journey was about breaking this pattern to be able to look at life and art in a new life. I have hardly spoken anything the entire day , unless it is a necessity to speak . I am sure most people who know me would be ecstatic to hear that . Just realized something about myself that only when I am truly restless on the surface do I find calm within. The past few days have been that of silence and the smallest unsettled situations have made me snap. It has almost been impossible to cut off from the world. Emotions manage to seep in and take its dominant place where ever you go . You can leave a place but somewhere you have truly left only when the place has left you .

I have not slept for four days straight. just work and concentration. Subjecting myself to focus on one situation making it my ultimate choice. I have children and flower-peckers for company. Has this solitary confinement helped ? My body is not the same anymore , it clearly does not like experiments such as these and rebels like never before. Recovery from this torturous venture will take a while . Meanwhile I want to sleep without excruciating pain haunting my body ...

A ray of light

2011-03-05T19:33:00.000-08:00

Every time I feel like I am in a black hole.
Being drawn into the abyss beyond my might.
I hold on to every ray of light that comes my way ,
There must be a star of hope , somewhere right???

Beyond queer

2011-03-02T04:53:00.000-08:00

Todays' Bangalore times had an image of a beautiful model on its front page (so what is so new about it?) Tall, slender, graceful, hazy eyes , pouty lips and blonde hair. The latest craze in the fashion arena , a fashionable rave. Wearing a steamy dress that would simply makes heads turn and eyes do cartwheels right away... Only that the model was not a 'she' but a beautiful ' He' .. A femimen , a word used to describe this beauty . Is the world ready to accept this? Not a black or white but grey ? Can we transcend beyond gender and redefine beauty in what we see?

Abhishek Chaudary came up on stage to recite his poetry. He climbed the stairs with a lady-like poise. He took small steps and adjusted the fabric that fell on his shoulder .'You fell in love with a she-male' he quoted in a hurried voice. Clad in a saree he gave us a message that was louder than all his lines. The queer film festival -2011, held in Bangalore accepted and embraced the queer in everybody
.

Films from across the world, short films, feature films and documentaries. ' A prayer for Bobby', ' Plan B', ' El Nino Pez' , 'XXY' and many more. Films on LGBT( Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender). It spoke of relationships between two people. I took my 19 year old sister to one of the films and she said that the story could have been between any two individuals . She appreciated the movies for its story and the direction while it delved into the intimate relationship between two women . It was not special, not queer , just normal and she could look beyond the taboo that society had associated with homosexuality. The crowd that came to watch the festival represented a unique section of the society and it was lovely to watch these movies together.

The gay rights in India were recently decriminalized. Section 377 of the IPC refers to Unnatural offences: Whoever voluntarily has carnal intercourse against the order of nature with any man, woman or animal, shall be punished with imprisonment for life, or with imprisonment of either description for term which may extend to ten years, and shall also be liable to fine.If not amended, Section 377 violated Article 21 of the Constitution, which states that every citizen has equal opportunity of life and is equal before law.Section 377 was amended and any sex between consenting adults was legalised. However, this does not apply to those under 18 years.Many religious leaders were not happy with the decision and many in the country have still not come to terms with it. The world has to change to give the individual's right to live and love.

I have many friends who are LGBT. I am a bisexual myself and I strongly feel most of us are. I am not queer , I am normal. We are all a beautiful blend of masculine and feminine qualities. Can the woman in me not fall in love with the woman in another man? Can the man in me not love the man in another woman? what does that make all of us then? A friend once told me that love is love.. It can be between any two entities . Beyond gender and sexuality, we all have the ability to love and be loved . I guess that is what matters more !
I have often wonder how a deeply religious Indian will accept homosexuality??? Maybe they ll have to weave in a story in the Purana or reinterpret the tradition to fit their present.. What about shiva and vishnu romancing ??? Was mohini a transgender? Was Arjuna a cross-dresser?? any takers???Shikandi- what are you?? Is this Blasphemy ???

A hopeless atheist that is me.

2011-02-24T10:14:00.000-08:00

My journey from a firm believer of Rama, Krishna, Shiva , Brahma , Vishnu and all the 100 billion devas and devis that exist within the Hindu (culture) (religion)???? to a hopeless atheist..
Let me go back in time .. Well .. You can relive your past through memories.. Wow.. Do all animals remember their past .. Never mind.. Focus!!! Memory is your curse.. your boon... make use of it !

Wait... let me go back to my womb.. I was born out of the union of one of those random eggs with one in a million random sperm. do you call it divine intervention or sheer chance/luck/fate ??? I think its an accident. Being at the right/wrong time at the right place?
Any way .. I was born , I am so glad I do not remember the process of my birth , it would have been like entry into hell . One could say that the womb is heaven and hell is life. What say?
Anyway.. I had no clue of the existence of divinity till my first memory . What is my first memory ?History is so boring... let me cut it short.
Being a Bharatnatyam dancer, I had to believe in all the deities to be able to dance a piece. The guru was an embodiment of knowledge , divinity and more . Is respect love , is love a belief ?
Hmmmmm... when did the transition happen and why?
I should give the credit to contemporary dance. To look at dance, music and life objectively. I saw teachers as human beings with faults , emotions and eccentricity. Knowledge was everywhere and in everything to be sought . Art and life sans divinity . The moment - thats all that matters. ( At least I try)
I had a friend who believed in jesus and drew transparent crosses on my forehead to help me recover from a serious head injury. My mother feels that I get bad dreams because of an evil eye cast upon me . She has her small rituals to ward off the evil eye that totally entertains me. In India , its not just a religion that is part of an identity , your caste, your sub-caste, the deity you worship, the temple that you visit and the geographical location of that temple , the language etc etc becomes part of the identity.

The most weird phase of my life was when I worked with a researcher who helped me draw parallels between science and spirituality for a dance piece. His knowledge about the theory of relativity just flushed every ounce of religiosity in my system . He was away from home for more than two years and when he comes back for a visit , a very important task for him was visiting the temple of Tirupathi .

I respect people's beliefs and do not question of the power of faith..but can anyone force their belief upon me ? I have my own beliefs that there is no life after death.. I want my organs to be given away for a person more in need and let the rest be scattered into the river, sea, the sky and the ground beneath.. I ll be the dust for a plant, the food for a bird and filth in the sea... I do not know what i believe... especially when nothing is real :/

Enjoy , this is truly hilarious!

Barking mad!

2011-02-22T01:48:00.000-08:00

I have always felt like a puppy dog barking in front of a lamp post waiting for it to leave. The lamp post is the stubborn society in which I live in and the puppy represents the sad state of an individual in this madhouse. I am an integral part of this mayhem contributing to its complications and ironically I want to run away from it.

Nopes! I do not listen to my parents, my friends , my relatives, my teachers , the police, the laws, the rules, the shopkeepers, the traffic signals, the doctors, the advertisements, the films, the saints, the scriptures, the sages phew..

HA H A who am I kidding... I listen to all of them .. everyone of them and every conditioned cell of my brain listens to what has been taught since the monkeys decided to evolve or may be since the amoeba decided to crawl ≈≈≈≈Ω

I wanted to be an astronaut or was it an astrologer? then a doctor, no I was too scared of blood, a school teacher and then my kannada teacher hit me on the knuckles and I decided never to teach, I wanted to be a singer I never got a note in place, I had a loud voice and would argue till people got tired of life ... soooooo I wanted to be a lawyer...All the films, yes all the films glamorize the profession of a lawyer. Should I blame it on John Grisham? It is a different thing that I am a professional dancer now.. I have been for almost ten years and loving it... I was actually enticed by the dance on television, the costumes and all that jazz to be honest.

The world is full of misleading things. They are packaged with glitter and fame waiting to hypnotize you into becoming a bakra of one kind or another.

All my friends are married... well almost. I did not go to my college 5 year reunion simply because I could not force myself to have conversations about kids, husbands or being lawyers.

I do not go to weddings, receptions, naming ceremonies, death ceremonies, anniversaries .. because all these events simply seem to have been schemed by the society to trap unmarried people into marriage.

Nothing... Absolutely nothing in this society makes sense... How much can I resist? Can i run away from it? Where do I go to? It is in my genes... my blood and my animal self... I am social being ... tell me why ? why? why?

A letter to my city

2011-02-19T01:25:00.000-08:00

Dear city of baked beans,

I have been thinking about you a lot off late. You seem to have this magic that holds all my memories . In nostalgia and the eyes of the children that will be born I see your image and I see you grow.I have been to the coldest places and and the hottest towns and somewhere you seem to be the coolest and warmest of them all.

Your slender arms of margosa and sampige roads embrace my thoughts and invite me home. Those tamarind and peepul trees are where my mind rested and emotions were born. In the temples of Basavangudi is still worshipped the prejudice that breeds.Cubbon parks and lal baghs have applied for a frozen time , their shrinking voice are no more pleads. All your lakes are frozen, people swim in traffic waiting to drown. The roads are always broadened to make more way for millions who want to frolic and frown.

Sorry! I just stood there while they chopped all the trees and said nothing to make them sway.

With the metro it has been decided that you need a face lift, a botox to make your plastic smile.

You are dressed with shopping malls and going on a gadget spree , do you realize you were once just nothing but simplicity.Like a bride you have been owned by many . The capitalists want to market you for your beauty and brains. You belong to all the mothers-in law of fashion and the husbands of government waiting to sell.

'Kannada baralla' is all I hear and the auto fares have become a fear. The red oxide floors are now reflecting the coldness of the growing IT. The windows are french , english , latin and more. Why do you have so many international schools ? the beggars still seem to beg or borrow. You have your Mallyas and murthys while I crave for your mallige idli.

My city of baked beans , I speak my mind as my life changes with yours. I am not sure that I will bring about any change. I thought you might need a listening ear or just a letter of love. Here I am lying in your arms listening to the song of traffic and breathing the air you choke with. You are my beautiful.. you will always be .

I love you always , you are my city , you are the world in me :)

love you

leaving on a jet plane :(

2011-02-12T01:39:00.000-08:00

Life is full of surprises. Is it? How often do we hear or see things that we have never before?Is it because the definitions of life keeps changing constantly. As a child I was very happy spending more time with family and countless hours of play . The new toys and friends made all the difference. When did we start wanting more things? when and why?

(All my bags are packed , I am ready to go ... I am standing here outside your door...)

Defining distance in a virtual world. Everything is a phone call away and all conversations are translated into digitally coded messages .You can live through another persons' experience- a simple camera phone and everything can be recorded shared and stored... then, why is it so difficult to say good bye? Unimaginable it is to live without the taste and the touch, the smell and the smile of a loved one. The void that the absence of a loved one creates cannot be filled by digital images and sounds. One cannot fill a stomach with ads of food and posters on the wall.

(I hate to wake you up to say good bye :( ...)

The absence shall make the presence more strong . Like food is delicious when you are about to starve. The bed is cozier when you want to sleep. The joke is funnier when you want to laugh . The films are sadder when you want to cry.

(The dawn is breaking.. its early morn... the taxi's waiting - he is blowing his horn...

I hate to wake you up to say - good bye )

The roads are longer when you can run no more. The river gets deeper when you can swim no more. The smoke chokes when you can breathe no more. The cold freezes you when can bear no more.

(So kiss me and pray for me .. say that you will wait for me ...

Tell me that you 'll never let me go ...)

Want to disappear into thin air and follow you like a fragrance .. want to melt in your light and shadow you into the darkness.. want be the sound of your footsteps and the song of your breath.There will be no distance cos there will be no me .. I shall be one with you and one with your time...

(Cos I am leaving on a jet plane .. Donno when I ' ll be back again...

Oh babe ... I hate to go ... )

Journey into the obsession of dance with Ruchika

2011-01-01T21:08:00.000-08:00

She gives her alter ego a name 'jigyaasu' and asks existential questions to this imaginary character.Sans inhibitions , she is an oasis of emotions in this land of deserted feelings .A girl who feels that marriage is going to solve all her problems and is very vocal about finding her prince charming. This free spirit stuck in marriage matrimony.com decided to travel with me to the camel fair in Pushkar. As hilarious as it can get , it was a trip I cannot forget..

Ruchika.. a person who would touch your soul in the first hello and then wander with her thoughts into her own universe and leaves you with no choice but to tag along . It was lovely to have a glimpse of her univers.. So .. NO complaints!.

It is not important what places we visit .. all that matters is, who you travel with and what you carry with you and what you bring back.. In my case I would love to travel by myself or with a friend with minimum weight on my back and return with tonnes of memories. But Rooche.... the most unreliable nut case who decides to not book her tickets, whose ideas of back-packing is the entire house in a bag and buying every object in every store as she returns is a nightmare for a person like me.

Yes ! she came with all her jewelry, clothes and all the jing bang including her iron(to press her clothes in a camel fair) and also shopped for everything that was sold in pushkar. Her bag was twice as heavy as her and almost as long as her as well!

One of the most beautiful Kathak dancers I have ever met. Her spirit is transparent in every move. she glides through spaces and weaves this web of magic around her with her dancing. She wants to touch the skies.. she has her wings but she is a bit lazy to flap them.. she needs to be pushed off the cliff every time.. she loves the free falll.. the flight and the adrenaline.

Lets get to the best part .. she danced on the streets of Pushkar.. every single street.. every store .. restaurant and scared almost every camel on her way... the lake , the sky, the sun , the sand .. they all fell in love with her dancing and I had to capture it .. She had forgotten her camera so we shot this on a 8 mega pixel camera.. It was fun.. !

This is our travelogue .. One of the best journeys I have ever been on..

It is special all thanks to this wonderful maniac named Ruchika..

No more explanations.. Watch the video...

In many of the scenes she had no clue I was filming her.. Yup As natural as it gets ..

You ll have to bear with the video quality cos the camera woman was also dancing with her ;) ..

Watch ... enjoy !!

Pushkar with an obsessed Dancer ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4GO4zE25Yg

Happy??? NEw??? YEar???

2010-12-31T05:55:00.000-08:00

Wishing all...

the fishes that will be caught ..

the cars that will be bought

the chicken that will be eaten

the women who will be beaten

the wars that will be fought

the 'crap' children will be taught

the endless fornications

the discreet excretions

the friends who will wed

the more mouths to be fed

the exams for a degree

the competitions for best pedigree

the flight delay

the loans to pay

the meaninglessness of art

the mortifying fart

the oriental white eye

the people who will die

the recession

the obsession

the honest lies

the french fries

the cure for all cancers

the discount sale at spencers

the hare-brained beauty pageants

the films on secret agents

the revolution around the sun

the oscars to be won

the masters' degree in states

the unreasonable belief in fates

the global warming

the prince charming

the love affairs

the stocks and shares

the older happy birthdays

the melancholic mondays

the game of fame

the same old shame...

a happy new year !!!

it means whatever!!!

Its the same old story once more..

Sit back and enjoy .. cos you will soon be no more!

The last day before a new year.

2010-12-30T21:43:00.001-08:00

The Earth has circumambulated the sun and its a reason for us to celebrate. With this tiny speck of dirt going across a ball of fire , we have no choice but to travel with it . Travel in loops, get older by the day and end up exactly where we began which is the middle of no where.

I always believed that I was not any different from a tree or a drop of water or the cockroach under the sink. My life is as important as the ant that gets crushed just when a person steps on it or the the chicken that was killed to fill a stomach.

Why do we humans make a big deal out of everything? especially emotions.

Are they essential for our basic survival ... do humans need to express as much as they need to eat, sleep and procreate ?

I am constantly reminded that every individual is different and the society almost decides the framework for everything. The lack of space or the lack of connection with nature is turning us into aliens in our own surroundings. We are like a virus in this nature all set to destroy .

Am i a lonely planet ? i am all set to go on another loop ... round and round and round ...

Happy new whatever to whoever!

The social network. loved it!

2010-12-04T11:13:00.000-08:00

Every great change in the universe is the result of a moments' inspiration. A phenomenon that has taken the quality of being a social being into a whole new level is definitely social networking sites. Watching the movies ' The social network' made me look at facebook and the other networking sites in a whole new light. I have always cribbed and many times deactivated my account saying that this takes away the personal touch from an interaction. Its true that most of the friends on my friends' list have not met me or heard my voice over the phone in a long time. The art of communication and conversation is taking a completely new avatar.

What a brilliant idea to have created a medium of expression that is easily accessible to people beyond disparities to connect and share their lives and views with each other. It would be wrong to say that all these connections are superficial when a lot of stories were woven with simple mediums of posts and messengers in the past. I would know more about a persons life even before I have heard a voice or before sharing a glance. Its truly commendable that it allows the minds, intellect , interests and passions to connect before the law of attraction or physical appearance comes into picture.

Is it not amazing that it allows every individual who is a [part of this madness to write his own history. The lives, biographies and autobiographies of each individual is written as it happens. Everyone is a historian. Gone are those times when you had to be a king to make you life immortal through construction of pyramids, towers, palaces and temples. We all inscribe our histories on a permanent wall of cyber space leaving a piece of our mind and heart to be shared with the rest of the world.

I have always wondered what would happen if our civilization just vanished.. Like an incredible tsunami or a meteorite collision or simply the third world war. What would the next succeeding life forms trace our past. What would the archaeologists of the future life form actually look for when everything is buried right in the space that is not tangible.

On one level the connection is being made and on an other level we are simply moving away from the physical world. We are playing with the mind more than our body. Not many would know how to grow their own food and the magic of a touch. If people can eat, drink ,sleep and make love in the virtual world and believe it as their reality .... hmmm do we need this planet..

By we .. i just mean the humans... not the animal and plant kingdom.. We should opt for a self destruction plan for our own race instead of leading the planet to an armageddon.

Blind leading the blind

2010-11-22T03:18:00.001-08:00

What an ironic phrase this could be for those who cannot see the world through their eyes.

A blind couple sat behind me on a bus .. who would be blind enough to marry a blind girl?

.. a blind man indeed. He sat by the window while she sat next to him. A proximity that would otherwise raise eyebrows in the eyes of the world. She asked random questions like what is the color of the lentil she was eating and asked if it tasted any better if the colors changed. The man partially blind exclaimed in pride that he knows what the color looks like cos he remembers green when he could see the trees. She wanted to clarify if they were on the right bus , he was confident about the route it took. The could smell a bakery on the way and wondered what was being cooked . They knew where the bus took a turn by the way that it shook.

The questions they asked were something that I would not . Why would they want to know the time its always dark , what time of the day would it be but the night for the blind. She sang a tune with every note in its place. He counted money holding the notes very close to his face. They identified a man with the sound of his voice . They took longer to count the number of steps out of the bus . The driver had no patience to see that they were blind , he almost started the bus while they were in mid air. they had to scream to be heard and the driver stopped to take a look at them. They got down at their destination. The world is one place but they had to get back home. I think they did, I really hope so ... Well.. I have never been told that the blind can actually lead the blind :)

Playtime with Rizwan

2010-11-03T21:44:00.000-07:00

Rizwan.. Rizwan.. Rizwan...
The name of a play that had become an integral part of 20 individual's life for more than 3 months.Working with Indian Ensemble. Working in Abhishek Majumdar's play Rizwan. A play , a process that became an extention of my life. I saw Rizwan reflect itself everywhere. In newspapers, personal lives, homes, television, travel, plays , rehearsals and everything during this phase. This was the first time I had ever acted in a professional play(not college skits and dramas in schools ) where I got to work with the best of actors in Bangalore, truly talented and lovely performers.
He managed to get all the actors dedicated to the play without losing his temper even once. We worked for more than three months with training in movement, voice, breath , improvization , clowning, miming, music, text and more and more and more..An intense training period where no one complained and no one was compelled to stay in the piece either. We were all given the choice to leave the piece the day it stopped making sense. Everyone who decided to work in the play had made a conscious choice and this led to a relationship with the play that was more personal and deeply emotional.
Rizwan , the story of a young boy who was killed in Kashmir like million nameless others. There have been many works that portray the political situation in Kashmir , this play however was unique as it dealt with the emotional and human aspects that were universal in nature. It wove the concept of death and its relationship to the living like a seamless poem.

There was a point where I found it overwhelming to be part of this play at a very vulnerable stage of my life. The reason I chose to be part of it was due to the poems that formed the soul of the play. Agha Shahid Ali's poetry became an inspiration for me as these poems were written by the poet when his home/land, family and memories associated with it were being raped before his life. A play written beautifuly by Abhishek inspired by Shahid Ali's work became the song of every actor and mine . I was probably the least trained and experienced in theatre in the entire group, but there was a universal connection to the play and a sense of belongingness that developed naturally in everyone.
Abhishek, a lovely director, beautiful writer ,a n emotional person with a wonderful sense of humor was a great friend to all of us than being a controlling maniac.He brought out the best in all of us and we had no choice to love every moment of Rizwan. Indian Ensemble has been one of the most professional theatre companies that I have ever worked with, where the training, process, punctuality and passion for the art form was simply par excellence. This experience was where theatre came alive and art became a slice of life in its truest sense.

Writer Blokes

2010-09-05T19:46:00.000-07:00

A good book is an aspiring writers' mirage.

I am engulfed by this thirst for a good conversation. to listen to someone's thoughts .

A strange urge to write but the impotency that I feel in front of a naked page is overwhelming.

Like the waves along the shore they invite me and almost tease my intelligence.

I cannot swim to save my life and I wonder if I can really cross the ocean of words.

A strong urge to edit sentences are being formed like the mind building an architectural home with just a blue plan.

Sometimes, I wonder if it is the indecisiveness or the littered perfection I encounter every walk of my life that prohibits me from taking that plunge.

You can ask existential questions only to the sky and sea because they listen and respond in the most unique way.

I do not need an answer , I just need a response or even just an echo saying that I am not alone.

My indulgence with words has increased considerably these days due to lack of stimulating conversations coupled with an insatiable desire to share my deepest thoughts .

Do writers create this imaginary world filled with intriguing dialogues between interesting characters to make up for this void?

An idyllic state with most contemplative thoughts shared with themselves as the audience or readers.

Do they manage to camouflage true emotions through metaphors or do they apply a florescent paint on their transparent emotions.

Eccentricity of the worst kind, where the world aspires to peep into the labyrinth of the mind but is slapped with the calm deluding exterior .

To write in silence is to have your thoughts screaming in your head.

Multiple thoughts disorder

2010-09-04T11:34:00.000-07:00

The multiple hands depicted on images and idols of gods and goddesses were simply the symbolic representation of their multi tasking abilities. The epitome of femininity with weapons, children, elephants, food , money , books, musical instruments, spiritual texts, sugarcane, lotuses and you name it they had it. A modern Devi would have a baby, a mobile, lap-top, make up kit, diapers, car and everything that she is expected to balance in her life. They set a really high bench mark through their religious idols for an ordinary person to live up to .

I took a long walk today . I had two and half hours to spare between two rehearsals. Too little time to get back home but too much time to kill. It was like traveling through different time zones and through different worlds.

Went to a mall as much as I hate it . Realized that India is richer than before. People have more money to buy and more things to see these days. A gadget for everything and the latest technology that hits the market every minute. So one constantly buys new things to feel less out dated. Everyone has more clothes to buy, more spas to go to, more gyms to work out in, more make up products and hair salons, more pubs and more parties to attend to and more and more people fill page 3 just like the obituaries - nameless and too many in number.

Felt out of place , felt like an helpless individual in an overwhelming society.

Went to a temple after the mall. It has nothing to do with religion . Just that it that was the only area in the entire locality that had a green space and lesser people. A mall and temple , what juxtaposing elements. faith , belief, hope or modernization/ economic growth .

It helped me realize that we are still stuck in the past with concepts of god and the supernatural. So if we are stuck in the past and do not know what the future is , the present is a bit screwed. Its like you fall and never hit the ground... where do you go?

Hierarchy is a funny thing. Its a land of salaam babus and spitters. Its mind boggling to see that we are completely compartmentalizing every individual into different caste, gender, race, religion, class or ideologies. Every individual, every element is an universe in itself . How are we do put ourselves in tiny little match boxes and call it our identity.

2010-08-19T10:22:00.000-07:00

namma oooru bengaloooru - anandada thavarooru

bangalooru -our hamlet- an abode to happiness..

I hate Bangalore... I am absolutely disgusted with the way the city is growing...

I feel like a stranger in my own city. The changes happening in this city in the name of progress is inconceivable. Amidst all this chaos, the city is being sweet to us with weather so beautiful. like a rose being crushed to death emits fragrance .

I have been traveling by buses for almost two months now. It has been an interesting phase of my life to depend on public transport in my home town. The public transport is pretty impressive .

The city is unidentifiable.

I do not want to live in a city dominated by IT anymore. Cosmopolitan city or a peaceful home.

Its time for me to find a new city , a new home...

A dream performance @ Adi Shakthi

2010-08-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

Traveling to Pondicherry ,lovely getaway on a weekend is easy and fun. Just book your tickets in advance. There is a train named "Gareeb rath '( a poor mans' chariot) that leaves on friday night and reaches Pondi on saturday morning. As the name suggests the tickets are really cheap and its an AC train. Carry something warm while you travel and water as well. No warm blankets, water and food available for a poor man on this train ...

We reached early in the morning trying to strike a deal with the autowalas in broken Tamil. Shree had a jolly time watching me make a complete fool of myself while I had a conversation with 8 to 10 ten auto drivers surrounding me

+EvaLO? Adi shakthi poga veNum?

-Madam 3 hundred rupees.

+illappa - romba expensive - taxile 200 rupees aagum( he he ) -

- illay madam -last price two hundred -

+Illaya naa taxile poray ..

-Taxi stand romba far irrukum madam - 50 rupees to taxi stand ( its right across the station)

I have not learnt Tamil at all, But I have convinced myself that I can actually speak tamil because many Bharatnatyam pieces that I had to learn are composed in Tamil.. So every time I have to construct a sentence in Tamil I am doing a dance sequence in my head and trying to remember words ... eg- thooki is to lift from Idadu paadam thooki aadum :).. So If i have to converse in tamil about mundane things it should involve actions only gods and godessess would probably do in their life. Unfortunately for me , No shiva had to catch an auto rickshaw. Shree thought it was total entertainment :)

So we reach Adi shakthi - a lush green space very close to auroville . No traffic - no noise- only the music of birds , insects and the breeze to welcome you . We are taken to the guest house built with organic materials and architectural intelligence. We are asked to keep the windows closed to avoid encounters with insects , snakes and mosquitoes and requested not to wear foot wear or store any food items in rooms to avoid damage to the mud walls and floor.

The weather was perfect, cloudy and not very humid . We were to start the rigging after lunch and we had all the performers of Adi Shakthi at the theatre. Vinay, Nimmy, Suresh and Anoop with their army of pet dogs . We got the plan out and set to work . We listened to music, conversed , laughed and also worked simultaneously. It was lovely to see dedicated artistes execute their task with such passion and precision . The theatre is a beautiful organic structure well equipped for a performance. The space is clean and designed to move the performance area and audience space to create different levels and dimensions of performance. A luxury is to have a swimming pool just outside the theatre . It was lovely to warm up in the pool and stretch before the performance. truly invigorating .

The day before the performance- the day we rigged the lights ,it poured cats and dogs(literally as well) . The day of the performance we prayed to have a bright sunny day to ensure that the audience would attend the show without too much of a jungle trek in the rain . Thank heavens , it did not rain !

The people from auroville and the town of pondicherry came in with amazing energy and it was a privilege to perform for the artistes and art lovers. Shreekanth executed the lights brilliantly well and we both were so inspired by the space and the people at Adi shakthi that we wanted to offer the best performance without any compromise on quality or energy.

It was truly supportive of Veena PAni Chawla and the resident artistes of Adi shakthi to have invited and let us present our work . It shall be one of the most special performances of my life.

my messages

2010-08-04T08:46:00.000-07:00

My messages are not like a cloth on a corpse-

They are like the breeze that carry the fragrance and stench along and have nothing to say..

bringing dust into your eyes and music to the ears- like pain and pleasure - nothing to convey.

My message is not a hoisted flag , not an autobiography crafted to sell ..

Its not a picture that speaks a thousand words not the silence that leaves it to anonymous discretion .

My message is not ' I love you' i wish it was just that

Its more like ' will you love me forever?' ' i am very insecure'

' I want to leave' ' do not leave me '...

Once upon a time there was a story that never began because it was very scared of the end

Travelogue

2010-07-19T09:31:00.000-07:00

A travelogue as part of my journey. Parshu, one of my dearest friend is one of those people who always has time on his hands.He is a very busy artist but he manages to squeeze in time for me is what I mean ;). We just meet up for CTR dosa with less than five minutes of notice.Send a message - lo manga dosa?? and wallah . We just need to be jobless and in around the place to meet up for yummy dosa or coffee or pizza.

So we decided to go on this bike trip.

It was confirmed( almost) the previous night to set out early in the morning before the traffic kicks in. Dawns are not me ! I made an effort to wake up and call him and he does not receive the call... and sends a message saying we are to leave at 8. Did I get the info wrong???

No!!! he calls to say lets leave at 9 and then at 10 ..while I was dressed in adventure gear with shoes, hats, jackets and waiting for him to wake up at 7am..

So we met , for dosa again and we left Bangalore before 11 . He could not get his brothers' efficient bike so we mounted on his old bike(sundari) with broken headlights and decided to reach Bangalore before dark.(We were kidding ourselves). Traffic traffic traffic.. so we managed to get off tumkur road and turned left past nelamanagala only at around 12.

aahhh another detail missing.. before 10 am he asked me to get my video camera.. we were to film his dance. My camera was not charged , his camera was not available so I had to take the wire with me and charge at all the small hotels and dhabas on the way . Crazy eh ???

where were we heading? I have no clue . He says KambadhaLLi .. and he has never taken this route before. He has always visited the place from Shravanbelgola. so we asked for directions. The bike does not move very fast , so we went as fast as we would go on Bangalore roads on a high way as well. He was singing, so I had no reason to crib. He was cracking pjs - so I had no reasons to complain . Did it start to rain? Thank heavens no! The bike did not have good breaks to handle slippery roads..We just laughed away while he spoke about a trillion things I could not hear through my helmet. I think I kept screaming ,' what did you say parshu?' and 'I cannot hear you' throughout the journey.

Finally we managed to reach kambadhaLLi. We stopped for lunch in a small Dhaba on the way and the skies showerd while we charged the camera and ourselves with lunch. We would reach Kambadhalli ... Bhai yeh Kambad halli kya hain? Its a small village close to Nagamangala around 30 kms from mandya, home to a very old 2nd century Jain Basidi. An ideal place for a dance shoot. Quiet , serene and beautiful . We made it to this place on our Jataka Bandi(bullock cart) . It was around four when we reached the place and I had less than ten minutes to decide location to film the video and he had less than 15 minutes to get ready with make-up, costume and choreography. We had less than one hour to shoot the whole thing and less than half hour battery time on my camera. We had to embark on our return journey at five thirty because we did not have headlights that worked and Kambadhalli is atleast 30kms off the highway with absolutely no street lights. YAY!! This trip would not please professional film makers, artistes and people who plan things meticulously. This kind of journey is suitable only for eccentric morons who would enjoy every ounce of stupidity that life throws at them :)

It was beautiful... Time stood still. the weather was perfect. Very quiet. We time travelled to a different century in the few minutes we had to spare . We managed to film the video with the available resources. We also had the priest of the Basidi included in the photo shoot and he was very particular to inform Parshu that he should marry only a Jain girl . Subtle but stern. A young man and a woman traveling together are either siblings or married in the eyes of the society . Any other relationship is simply not acceptable. It did not bother us and we simply acknowledge his intentions with a smile and started packing to head back home.

On our way back we decided to take the Mysore road because we would at least be traveling on roads that are well lit even if it got really dark and we convinced ourselves that we would cover 30 kilometers within two hours on our jet plane. Parshu also had some theory about the skies being brighter during summer because the suns rays fall directly over the tropic of cancer etc etc :). Geography is his forte :P

On our way we came across this small village called BAsiralu or was it BAsiraLa . I cannot remember because we went there almost a month ago . There are a lot of historical monuments around mysore and mandya region many of which are not discovered and do not exist on the map of documented history and heritage. They are ruins.. part of the village structures sometimes shelter for cattle but timeless as always.

We came across this old temple... He thought it was a JAin BAsidi as he spotted a Brahma Sthamba at the entrance but approaching it from a closer place filled us with awe. It was a beautiful Hoysala temple.. It was almost six when we managed to take some pictures at this magical place and decided to drive back.

How we got back to Bangalore was quite a funny story but we made it. He drove continuously for many hours in the dark. It was extremely tiring for him and we could take a break only when we reached mysore road. He was sleepy and tired but he drove with extreme caution and we were back home safe.

It was a very special birthday gift.. THANKU parshu

A reminder

2010-06-17T09:14:00.000-07:00

Today, I sat staring at the evening sky...a kids' canvas ..

scribble all you want , choose your colors and no one to scold you...

( jazzy scribbling on the dance floor and calling them her fairies, the floor was her sky as she drew her rainbows )

saw some nameless birds flutter their tiny wings slowly being camouflaged amidst leaves.

remembered a soul who has a very weak heart who has very few days to live.

A nameless koyal on a nameless branch singing a song with no lyrics ...

Called a friend to remind myself that love is a blessing:)

A prayer for a child who would want her father to return home from work.

the crescent moon saw his smiling reflection in my eyes ...

Children playing hide and seek on roof tops , there is no place to hide and nothing to seek.

held my grand mothers' wrinkled hand and lived my fragile future for a while.

tasted mom's food (kai thuthu) relished every morsel ...

wondered at a daughter who had just lost her mother but not the zest to teach .

the clouds are a beautiful homosexual pink :)

spoke about a project that was not interesting for too long , efficient waste of time

Inspired myself and allowed myself to be my lazy self.

Lived and created my own history through a book...

need to play the veena, need to listen to music, need to talk my heart out , need a warm and some good sleep :)

I live because I feel and I feel alive when I express :)

A reminder that I am Alive ...

the sound of I

2010-06-13T00:20:00.000-07:00

I am the sound of...

tapping fingers on a keyboard,

baby's babble in its sleep,

foot steps of high heeled shoes,

a glass bangle twirling on a concrete floor,

mom's anklet filling my home,

a cd player when it ejects the cd,

an alarm clock on snooze

flipping pages

leaking tap that wakes you up

clipping nails

fluttering eye lashes

thunder amidst rain

changing signals at train crossings

hot cuppa chai being poured into a cup

a child learning to blow whistle for the first time

a lisp

a stammer

a stutter

smacking lips

kissing lips

glass panes being cleaned

a dive in a pool

a pin drop

sound of om

the deep voice of sri in my ears

thanpura

sa pa sa

dosa on a frying pan

mustard seeds in hot oil

a breaking dawn

snow fall

lullaby

the strings of a veena

raaga lavangi

disconnected phone call

a hot shower

a ballerinas' jump

the waves of an ocean

stone thrown into a pond

fountains

chocolate wrappers

aalap on the flute

coins and keys in the pocket

sparks in a camp fire

bullock carts on muddy roads

my fathers' ' I told you so '

he he , lol and :D

phone call during a play that is not switched off

whispering dreams

knuckles hit by glass rod by teachers in schools

out-of-tune school assemblies

a recorded voice saying "the number you are trying to call is busy , please try again later"

the screams in my head

footwork in bhartnatyam

mishra chaapu thaala on a singers' palm

short circuit

tube light being lit

locks being unlocked

flipping pages of an old photograph

nasal chants of purohits during homas

the phone that never rang

the message that you never received

unspoken word

silence

...

I am my body's Pimp :)

2010-05-28T17:45:00.000-07:00

I woke up at a strange hour .. I slept at a stranger hour ...

To cut it short, I could not sleep...

I am feeling restless, emotional and a bit disturbed...

I feel this way most of the time and i just keep myself pre occupied with a trillion things to take my mind of this crazy wave of energy ... I am positive that with my level of anxiety and hyper tension I am bound to go insane if I do not find creative means to channelize them.

I am seriously considering getting myself admitted in a mental asylum when it gets to much to cope with . Its okay to be crazy.. we all are! ... Hope I will be equipped with tools to deal with this insanity or at least ways of accepting it and embracing it to avoid self destruction.

No scary dreams... It did not occur to me to call someone to express how it felt..

People are not good listeners during this hour... they prefer silence or sleep ... I respect that and I want people to respect that :) so Do not call me at 3 am !!!

Besides it felt like something I had to experience on my own... and probably write just to understand myself in retrospect.

I ll have to probably to go to ballet class and I do not know if I can dance today because I have been ill the last two days . My mind wants to dance but my body is not ready . As frustrating as it is , I ll have to listen to it.

It makes me wonder if my mind is restless or my body. The body is such a strange phenomenon. Is it just a pile of flesh and bones, just a combination of gases and liquids or a conglomeration of atoms in space? Synonymous with existence , it is impossible to believe that everything that we experience is the result of chemical reactions.

I am my body's pimp ... my mind and heart is out there on the streets , just to make sure my body survives ... Use and throw is written all over it ... Easily disposable, eco-friendly pile of garbage :) cannot live without it !

Everything goes for a toss just because I am ill or am on some kind of medication . I am trying to understand that my mind is just an extension of my body .. just voicing its state of being ...

He... he who?

2010-05-24T07:37:00.000-07:00

An old painting, actually a framed photograph that has been in our house since I can remember has ' He comes like the morning star , full of glory, splendor and love' printed on it. Its the picture of the sky, clouds and probably a sunrise .. I really cannot tell...and I have always wondered who this person is ? Who is this guy and why is he so important and what is the purpose of describing him in an abstract photograph...Is he a regular guy in regular clothes or is he the kind who wears blue tights and red chaddis :) . Would you recognize him on the streets , have you travelled with him on the same bus while he is having a nap by the window after a long day at work in a software company named yahoo or google or is he an aspiring actor who is taking a bus to rehearsals. Does he have a car??? He does not look like a person who thinks a car is a necessity in life.He probably has more important things on his mind.

Is he the guy who wants to check you out at a restaurant and is too shy to make the move so he decides to be a complete gentleman in his own world. Is he the guy who looks like a famous character on a regular soap on a regional TV show. HAve you spoken to him ? Have you heard his voice?? Is it deep and does it have a bass effect on your brain?

I wonder if he is the kind of guy who would talk to strangers and listen to their life history even if he or she is just renting choolas to freezing tourists on a mountain or is an auto driver driving you to your destination on a rainy day.

Is he a person who would be able to hitch a ride just by flashing a smile of familiarity. Is he the boy next door, a gujrathi to a gujrathi or a kannadiga to a kannadiga or just a person who you think you have known for a while even on your first rendezvous.

Does he act cranky or does he have wings... wait a minute may be he is a bird watcher .. He can identify most birds like the bee creeper, honey eater or yellow breasted brown cuckoo or get away with fake names as the birds actually do not care what you call them. Does he want to shoot birds??? with a camera ofcourse... or does he aspire to be a war photographer ?? I hope not .. I am sure he did at some point of time ...

Is he a dream ? Can you see him from where you live ? On this planet from your home caged by gravity? Does he have eyes like the sea and do you see your dreams sail in them?

Do you know the contours of his face , of his back and of his fingers that have years of music etched on them ... Is he a friend , has he fallen in love... Is he the morning star? The splendor of his emotions , his smile ....:)

A withering wish

2010-05-11T08:02:00.000-07:00

A friend once told me that we have to let everything in this universe grow and have its natural death. Our wishes, passions, emotions, relationships, money, talent, body, love are all subject to this wonderful phenomenon. We hold on to the idea of immortality like an iron rod in a sinking ship.I must confess that there are crazy reasons that keep me going as well.. Dance being the strongest of all... It has been my most faithful companion and I have had to completely surrender my ego to embrace it. The most unconditional form of love that I have experienced so far and it shall exist and walk with me till I am no more.

I do not know if I would continue to be a performer(on stage) for too long. I acknowledge the world much lesser these days. The worlds' acceptance and acknowledgement that meant the world to me when i started dancing has diminished to great extent. An excitement that intrigued me as a child seems to be withering away just like my innocence. Feels like I just started learning my steps in dance class a few days ago and it is almost 15 years since then. Most of what is acquired in dance in empirical or simply spoon fed into you through various channels of the system.

Amidst all this a question of survival, the question of identity as a woman, financial independence, maternal instincts, search for knowledge, travel, new rendezvous, the fear of terrorist attacks, accidents on roads, insurance, dreams , applications, grants, marriage, heart breaks, paying bills , hunger , dreams , death and more have boarded the same bus to nowhere.

Destination unknown but there is a last stop for everyone onboard :)..

I dance as my body withers away, and my heart erodes with emotions , my mind rots with unwanted information... dance will live beyond these mortal thoughts... it shall outlive me and my universe :)

Just wanna be anything but me!

2010-05-11T07:54:00.000-07:00

Its one of those days when I want to be a tree, catch some light and play with the breeze..

not wake up for work but welcome the day ..

Its one of those days when I want be a dog, take a walk in the park and have a play date..

not be someone's pet but go wild for a while...

Its one of those days when I want to be the sea ,let the breeze take me and bring me back home...

not to flow but just stay in place...

Its one of those days when i want to be a cup of tea, on a cold rainy day , listening to conversations...

while I have nothing to say...

its one of those days when I want to be someone , something or somewhere else...

Not me just free!

Movement workshops for Artistes

2010-03-31T23:18:00.000-07:00

Why movement?
You are a photographer, a theatre artist, a psychologist, an educationist, a dancer,painter,film maker, musician or an IT geek... This workshop is for those who want to explore movement and explore its implication on different aspects of life. A workshop designed for individuals who want to understand the body and movement as a tool of individual expression. Designed to cater to the needs of both professional and amateur artists it incorporates various contemporary dance techniques along with challenging creative tasks.
An interactive class where you can analyze your strengths and weaknesses and question every aspect of movement.
There will be opportunities to perform for those who are interested in performance.
Classes held @ Kalari Academy every Sunday from 1pm to 3pm
Fees Rs 500/ month only ...
Call- 8050821839(mobile) for more details

The first month of workshop concludes with a performance at the Oxford Book Store, Leela palace on the 11th of April @ 7pm.

Please grace the occasion with your presence and get you friends along :)

A phase- the way it feels!

2010-03-26T09:32:00.000-07:00

The silence is swallowing my soul... I am trying to make a lot of noise to keep this wild being at bay. Like I scare the fear of darkness with the illusion of light.

Will the barrier of my smile hold the flood of tears back?

A broken body standing the test of time...

The joys of going solo!

2010-03-11T22:36:00.000-08:00

Here are a list of things that are part of living alone!

Freedom becomes synonymous with responsibility.
You develop love towards solitude and hatred towards loneliness.
Cornflakes , Bananas & curd rice become a huge part of your diet.
You hate coming back to an empty house , so you spend more time going out.
If your work space and living space are the same, then your professional & personal space get mixed up.
You like half your time cleaning up the space and the other half dirtying it.
You want to invite friends and its fun when they just drop in and chill out at your place.
You can talk over the phone all night without your mom spying on you .
You dread the first week of the month, cos its time to pay the rent.
You go back home after long hours of rehearsals, traffic and pollution , you are tired and you have to inspire yourself to cook.
You get used to empty space - appreciate negative space.
You can play music as loud as you want or just have a jamming session at 2 am in the morning or just start dancing at 3am .
you can watch the sun set and moon rise.
you can look like a clown all day, eat, sleep when ever you want...
power cuts , you get to feel a bit scared.
Wash your car and make a choreography out of it.
Sing in empty rooms that echo.
Dance in the kitchen.
Have candle lit evenings.
read a book on terrace.
enjoy laundry
work your ass off to have a steady income.
if you starve, you starve alone.
Not fun cooking for yourself..
missing mom's food.
you talk to yourself quite a lot
Too much thinking
laziness sets in
self inspiration consumes a lot of energy
Silence gets too loud
you cry alone.
music is good company.
good movies too
you wonder why you want to live alone..
you crave for company
you want to share
you find different creative arenas to express your self.
patience, restlessness , laziness, eccentricity add on ...
you wonder why ..
you question life
you find no answers
you question again
you still do not find answers..
its fun, its not , its boring , its not
its home...
you cannot afford to misplace your keys
you cannot afford to fall ill or have a flat tyre
its home...
yup.. you wake up alone .. scared of ghosts or bad dreams.. you call a friend to put u back to sleep....

Teaching Kids

2010-03-04T10:27:00.000-08:00

I remember reading a book a long time ago, that said that children have solutions for all worlds' problems. They actually had drawings done by kids that demonstrated highly advanced solutions( simple) for the greatest problems of the world.

Working with 3 to 6 year old kids is such a stimulating experience.

While playing a simple game where children had to come up with innovative ideas of creating a cap. there were caps of every size and color. A small girl wanted a water bottle on her cap so she could sip water and quench her thirst. An invisible cap or a rainbow cap, a cloud cap that always rained on you . a thinking cap, a sleep cap, a dream cap , a laughter cap ,A plant cap for everyone to protect nature, an ice cap that kept your head cool in summer, a helicopter cap that could take you places , a sun cap, a light cap , a nest cap for the birds to rest and the best of all a MAMA cap that would hug & kiss you and love you all the time.

To ignite a child's' imagination is challenging your own creative ability. You cannot force information into their growing minds or force movement into their developing bodies. When learning becomes fun the possibilities of self discovery is end less.You need to constantly develop tools that challenge their abilities.One of my friends had this as her status message" She thinks the best teachers are those u tell u things u already know :) .

:) .. Just love dancing with these little angels.. They are my sweetest, cutest , most adorable and knowledgeable teachers ever!

Holi

2010-03-03T08:47:00.000-08:00

Holi was fun.. with friends ..

colors and fake Bhaang! :)

Sunday @ Cubbon park

2010-02-21T09:40:00.001-08:00

I went to cubbon park today to listen to a lovely concert by Pallavi Arun as part of Prakruthi series of performances. I remember my childhood days and this was almost a ritual in our family. Almost every sunday at Cubbon park, playing with swings, slides and see saws . I went there after many years and was so happy to see my past being relived by other families. None of my friends had time. It is a sunday and some are busy working, others are busy finding jobs in the US, many are busy performing at prominent festivals across India and no one was free to take a walk in the park with me .

So I went alone. I read a book , had cotton candy and corn and sat in the shade watching the trees and birds. I saw little children play in the lawn dressed like Kannada film super stars running around trees :). Nature is preparing for the arrival of Spring . All the old leaves have fallen and the branches stand like ballerinas waiting for the young leaves to sprout.

There is yellow blossom across the city along with purple flowers. Everyone is complaining about the prickly heat .. the trees make the traffic bearable, the yellow blossom add a smile.

Love this city. Went for a walk around central library at dusk. the crimson sky as a backdrop brought the structure of the library to life and the garden around it swayed in hazy light.

I was in one of the worlds' most beautiful cities.A picturesque, breezy and lovely city with dramatic hues of nature thrown in. I watched people of many colors, shapes and sizes walk the path. They had all come for a walk, their rituals, their smiles and their lives. Watched and inhaled this moment .

The concert was simply lovely . Many poems of kannada poets were brought to life with a melodious rendition. A perfect evening...! :)

Walking a lone path!

2010-02-10T10:00:00.000-08:00

WAlking down memory lane ...

The past is such a faithful companion... He simply fails to leave.

He says he is going to be with you, through thick and thin.

He is omnipresent like a smile on a face, like a scar on your wrist or like a tumor in the brain.

But the truth is you are all alone.. All alone on this path to nowhere.

The past..like extra baggage when you want to fly .Set of underwears you cannot leave behind :).

This journey has been interesting . I have always wondered if the future would have cyber archeologists when our civilization wipes out. I am not sure. Simply because we have not been able to unlock the all the mysteries of ancient civilizations yet, even with high levels of technology. Probably we have not considered Armageddon.

What is with Humans and their obsession with the Past.

We love History.. documentation and holding on to the past.

Was part of this workshop recently and it explored memory.

How much of our past do we actually remember.

When asked to relive my past as a 3 month old baby and recall the old house that I spent my childhood in... It was more of a visual memory seamlessly blended with my imagination.

I do not have body memory of my past . There are very few instances where we live the moment. where we are completely aware of all our senses...

I read some where that all our senses record events like a camera...

All that we have touched, smelt , tasted, seen , experienced, heard is all recorded.. everything is stored in the sub conscious. Many things are genetically coded. So many other things we convince ourselves that we have learnt from external sources.

There is nothing new. Everything is new. You know everything. Everything is nothing.

Taking this plunge. Walking this path alone.

Fear is a good thing! Failure is not too bad a thing..

Anything that does not kill you, shall make you stronger!

A dancers' drawings

2010-02-04T08:55:00.000-08:00

Movement has been my key to unlock the universe , to comprehend every organized and chaotic aspect of the world. It is a wonderful tool to access the Visual,Spatial,Musical ,Verbal,Mathematical, Interpersonal & Kinesthetic Intelligence. Unlike Painting ,sculpture, poetry where the art form and the artist are two separate entities, dance is a medium where the dance and the dancer share the same body. As a dancer, I have been able to perceive the effects of various physical phenomena like force, energy, gravity, mass and also introspective emotion on the body as movement. As a choreographer the body acquires a different status and the emphasis shifts to visual and emotional composition.

My new choreographic experiment is to create movement through drawings as I experience and visualize them.In my first series of dancers' drawings, I have tried to explore the element of proportion, harmony, suspension while capturing movement as stillness. To allow the audience to experience a sense of visual weight, asymmetrical balance, rhythmical pattern , choreographed in still images. These images were created inspired by movement improvisations with choreographic parameters.

A Dancers' Drawings- A movement choreography through a different medium.

Exhibition at the Kalari Academy of performing arts from 10th Feb 2010.

An ode to love!

2010-01-25T08:57:00.001-08:00

when lightnings scream

and thunders bellow ...

the sky cries

to meet her love...

she is but a floating fabric of veiled emotions...

he is just a thirsty soul , masked by parched life .

her clouded thoughts seem to blind her heart .

while she invisibly absorbs love that run through his veins..

Heart being buried in love ...

with a deep desire to share..

for once her heart wants to stay ..

to find a home in his eyes..

to be the music in his laughter ...

and be the space in his silence...

Illusions seem to disappoint her ;liaisons is what they are ...

dreams are not lasting companions, deceiving lovers they can be...

reality is a cruel mother that gives birth to vain ...

she craves for chains when the sky is calling her name ...

Playing the flute!

2010-01-05T08:08:00.000-08:00

I held a flute and played a few notes after a long time!

It was part of the improv that we did for this play that is part of the nsd festival...

I have to work with the character of Krishna.. the work is inspired by the Gita Govinda.

Its amazing how this instrument was a reminiscence ...

" A piece of bamboo that can produce music"...

A flute!

In/Out/In at NSD Theatre Festival 2010

2010-01-03T10:31:00.000-08:00

In/Out/In is a new performance created with the collaboration of Indian and German artists to look at boundaries of textual and performative spaces for the feminine in the Indian context. The performance is loosely based on Jayadeva’s Gitagovinda and the central concern is how to go beyond the colonialist, nationalist or patriarchal discourses that accept the marginalization of women as necessary. It focuses on Radha entrapped in a “traditional” space, and tries to explore her various levels of ambitions and interruptions - the “rural” lover and Krishna, the “Pardesi” love object. Moreover, Radha is “rooted” while Krishna is in transit. He is symbolically more representative of “ India” while Radha remains representative of the eternal “Bharat” feminizing the majority of the Indian population. As the performance looks at the temporary possession of Krishna by Radha it also measures the relationship in terms of the woman as outsider and Krishna as insider. Hence, the much-elaborated image of Radha as a multiple victim is subverted and re-read with an acknowledgement of the written text’s phallocentrism and subversion in the performative.

Bahumukh, 2.30 & 6 pm, Wed, 20 Jan
Multilingual, 60 minutes
Dramaturge: Santanu Bose
Director: Aditee Biswas

Performers

Shilpika Bordoloi
Veena Basavarajaiah
Sandra Chatterjee
Felix Bürkle

Lights: Goutam Majumdar
Costumes:Shree Biswas
Sound Design and Music: Sankar Venkateswaran
Dhrupad Vocals: Barna Maitra
Stills: S. Thyagarajan

TILT @ NSD Theatre Festival

2010-01-03T10:29:00.000-08:00

Tilt has been conceived as an ensemble work performed by four dancers and three musicians. While using the dance form of Bharatanatyam as a base, it attempts to discover a fresh dynamic and create a new perspective in the way it is performed and viewed. The piece derives its broad structure from the Tillana, the final piece in a Bharatanatyam repertoire, and is performed in a circle. The audience members sit up close, and depending on their position, develop a fundamentally personal relationship with the dance as it unfolds. The proximity between the audience and the dance is an important element of the work and aims at replacing the predominantly visual experience of dance with a more palpable engagement based on its kinetic quality.

Bahumukh, 2.30 & 6 pm, Fri, 8 Jan

Non-verbal, 45 minutes
Choreography: Anusha Lall

Dancers: Mehneer Sudan, Mandeep Raikhy, Veena Basavarajaiah, Anusha Lall
Musicians: Samrat Bhardwaj, Suchet Malhotra, P. Vetri Boopathy
Interactive Media Design: Matsuo Kunihiko
Light Designer: Gautam Pande
Production: Varun Sharma

The year that was..

2009-12-31T07:42:00.000-08:00

There is no time.... yet the imaginary calendar that we bind ourselves to is telling us that the year has come to an end... wow!!!! The lessons that the past 365 days and nights taught me.

I do not know if they have made any difference to my life but they are precious experiences...

Here goes nothing ...

Worked on very interesting projects including Kanda, Escalator Clause, Kalpa, Maya , Sita and Musical Combat .
Learnt that a few people are just oppurtunists and not necessarily friends and distanced myself from these breed of individuals .
Realized the drawbacks of obsession.
Managed to recover from a very bad heart break.
Learnt that time heals all wounds.
Got to meet some amazing people who have lived art .
Lived in Delhi for more than five months and experienced dilli and fell in love with the city.
Realized that my free spirit was dampened and had to find it again.
travelled to Switzerland and walked the ramp .
Worked on a dance film Kalpa.
My best friend had a baby and I have'nt managed to spend time with the angel and the mother.
I was not around when my best friend broke her leg.
Met Mandeep, Anusha and Mehneer at GATI forum.. Amazing souls .. love them!
One of the best pieces that I danced was emotionally the most painful one to create.
Have kept away from possessive individuals and also learning not to be possessive.
The definition of love was changed .. now .. there is no definition!
Felt the need to smoke... a little bit self destructive .. What the hell!
Met some amazing children Nitzana, charvi, maya, vishaq, pranava , arjun, tutus , anantha, and now I want to spend more time with Dhriti.
My computer crashed and i managed to lost all my data, music, photographs and other important info.. A huge part of my past erased.. felt ecstatic about it.
Fell in love with the Veena .. the teacher was really good but have not been able to go to classes since delhi.
Met Shweta ..a sweet soul in Delhi... Found an amazing friend in her and connected with her beautifully.
went to the Himalayas for a trek.
Saw a full moon night in BAdrinath.
Found a companion in an old friend.
Went on a road trip and discovered some amazing places around Mysore.. a few water falls and also went to Biligirirangana hills...Beautiful ride!
Spent a lot of time in Kerala and started learning the Kalari foot massage from Ranjan Sir. Shall continue intense training when I get back to Bangalore.
Walked to the valley of flowers again.
Hemkund did not happen ... the weather was very rough!
Caught Swine flu and was critically ill for two weeks. The Lall Family nursed me back to health... They saved my life .. I cannot thank them enough!
Went to Chandralekha's place and also Adishakthi in Pondichery .. Short and sweet trip with lovely friends.
Working on my cubist sketches.. and enjoying them immensly.
Enjoying my solitude.
Lost a friend due to issues concerning money matters.
Realizing that my sister is growing super fast. She is getting prettier , smarter and experiencing beautiful things in life . Very happy for her growth.
Pappa died!!! Madam lost her father....I saw Mudra lost .... Death silences everything!
Trying to love again without the fear of getting hurt .
Loving life
Living life!

Purana qila through my poor mobile!

2009-12-25T04:48:00.000-08:00

just capturing the sky with my tiny mobile camera!

2009-12-24T08:26:00.000-08:00

Waiting for my night!

2009-12-23T09:03:00.000-08:00

The heart feels like a ray of sun light that has been rejected by the moon.

It wanders the dark night and finds a place in the serenity of one's eyes.

The snow lit mountains of Badrinath talk to the twinkling stars.

The river has something to say but the rocks seem to silence her song.

The solitude finds refuge in a corner as it managed to walked out of its den tonight.

Will I be able to talk to her? My heartless rude cruel dark night .

I ll count my dreams in her arms . Death calls me from the banks of Banaras.

The river they say gives life to the bygones of yesterday .

What do they have to say?. The pile of dry wood that burn the mortality of men..

Please vanquish this light , i want to embrace the darkness..

My loyal night waits for me !!!

Life as it sucks!

2009-12-22T09:22:00.001-08:00

Its been a while...

Its been a while that I have been alive.

It is simply beyond comprehension to beat the boredom of life.

You travel, you meet new people, you gain more experience, more books, explore more , create more, listening to interesting tales, interesting music and travel more, have more adventure and ya da ya da yada...

What next ???

What more???

I had a spirit .. an amazing spirit.. A heart that loved and lived every moment .

Heart Breaks are wonderful Bulldozers of life! they just manage to uproot the zest for life...

I have been quarantined in a place far from home for almost ten days now.. I have hardly spoken to anyone nor have I had any kind of human contact.. Sleep has been my saviour. When your body is battered you have no idea what you are battling in life for . It seems like I have lost my communicative skills and also the thirst for communication.

I have to finish a few assignments and also write a few proposals . Find interesting work and travel where my work takes me. Homeless and directionless... Just a traveller.

It has been interesting to fall ill for more than two weeks . Loads of medicine till the inner layer of my stomach has given up hopes of survival, bland food and to have not seen the outside world for more than two weeks... I have no been this bored since I was in my mother's womb.

How many books do you read? How many movies? How many people do you call? How much time do you spend on the internet ? How many sketches and paintings?

My body has lost all its strength .. all the stamina ...

I need to get back to dancing but not yet .. I need to still stay locked in for the safety of others...

I need to till I have finished the entire course of medicine.

I saw the moon through my window tonight! It looks beautiful...

I have been bored for a while...

I hope life has a bit more meaning!

Hope!

A preview!

2009-12-20T23:26:00.000-08:00

A preview

http://www.timeoutbengaluru.net/dance/dance_review_details.asp?code=89

Quarantined series!

2009-12-19T05:49:00.000-08:00

Practise seeing beauty LOVE/DEATH/DEVIL

2009-12-11T09:13:00.000-08:00

This is the title of Ben J. Riepe's new work. Just managed to watch the piece after a drive through crazy traffic and long rehearsals. Made it on time!!!

Is it an instillation? A painting? A movie? A chorographic work? A photograph?

The piece was a treat . It manages to trigger certain emotions or pull those strings that seem to resonate the precise note from our memories. It was a visual treat , filled with images that would simply stirr your soul. A Dali's painting started to breathe or did it transport me to a different time zone. The synopsis said that the choreographer was on a quest for critical and future- oriented art that transcends the viewer's and his own artistic expectation with means that are beyond psycologisation( I have never heard this word before) , narration and the conventions of contemporary dance.

The choreographer had designed the piece with such accuracy that I felt like a molecule of sodium chloride in an experiment of electrolysis .The precision with which the piece was designed was simply commendable ,where the focus on detail was stressed on the smallest detail like the skin on the dancers' cheek to a much more elaborate understanding of the human mind. It broke all frontiers of a proscenium theatre production and explored and played with human perception .

It was a highly intellectual piece? Was it an emotional piece? A technical piece ?

It was all of these and Ein said " Its a piece that moves you!"

Murphy's law and more !

2009-12-08T08:49:00.000-08:00

If anything can go wrong , it will!( esp with me)
Nothing as easy as it looks!( music for sure!)
If there is a possibility of many things going wrong , the one that causes the most damage will be the one to go wrong.
Left to themselves- things tend to go from bad to worse.
Whenever you set out to do something - something else must be done first.
nature always sides with the hidden flaw.
Mother Nature is a bitch.
Smile- tomorrow will be worse
Matter will be damaged in direct proportion to its value
Do not lose heart....
There is always an easier way to do it.
When things are going well , something will go wrong.
When things cannot get any worse, they will.
No matter what goes wrong , it will probably look right!
If an experiment works, something has gone wrong.
If you found something important and you want to show it .. you ll never find it again!

Over the last week...

2009-12-08T03:01:00.000-08:00

Random thoughts.. random musings!

spoke to the sea.. walked on sand..

watched the sun rise and the moon rise too..

travelled up north..

travelled down south...

watched a surreal performance ..- Love -Death and Devil... the visuals still haunt my mind.. like Dali's work in empty space.

watched 'Waiting for godot' come alive on stage.. loved Nazeeruddin shah.. what an actor???

what an actor? what a play? love Samuel Beckett!

had the most terrible performance of my life...

maya failed .. maya drove me nuts.. maya drove me insane..

enough is enough .. i had to leave.. professionalism just does not pay!

the ocean knows everything .. It has no reasons for its existence...

Lived the life of a legend as I danced in her space.. Chandra- You are amazing !

You will never leave us, with your work you shall always stay.

cannot wait to live more moments...

Homeless right now...with no where to stay ..

looking for a home in a nameless place..

In love.. in love .. inlove with life!

Sammilan 2009

2009-11-20T08:23:00.000-08:00

Sammilan 2009

28th November , 7pm

@ NMKRV auditorium ,

Kalari Academy of Performing Arts presents Sammilan 09 with a zealous mission to showcase India's rich cultural heritage, focusing on the proud lineage in the field of martial arts. Sammilan 09 will be the apt platform to showcase the seamless blend of contemporary dance with the ancient martial art, Kalaripayattu, presented by talented young artists from India and abroad. Sammilan 09 will have a special performance by Miss Maja Drobac, a world renowned Dancer and choreographer from Croatia.

Sammilan 09 does not limit itself to one evening of performance. Through Sammilan 09, KAPA will raise funds to teach Kalaripayattu to challenged children residing in Peace Child orphanage home, Bangalore. The primary objective of this programme is to address physical and mental health (i.e. the psycho-physiological) requirements of the individual/child through a basic training regimen rooted in Kalaripayattu.

The rigorous physical exercises coupled with the mental focus that kalaripayattu demands, is bound to instil a sense of discipline, confidence and self esteem in these children. Their energies will be streamlined towards a productive future.

Please join hands with KAPA for the noble cause. Together we shall help blossom the dreams of the young children and helping them focus, by bringing Kalaripayattu to their door steps.

Passes available at:

Gangarams Book Bureau, MG Road

Kalari Academy of Performing Arts, Brigade Road

Buy online tickets at www.indianstage.com

For tele booking call 9880036611

Souls do not accept credit cards!

2009-11-20T07:33:00.001-08:00

She sought concrete stars and neon nights.

While she screamed her silent songs ,

the rocks turned deaf and the trees walked away.

"A penny for a thought", she said, but the forests were really poor.

the earth had no designer wear , the soil was always nude,

the breeze was no mozart as it composed its own tunes.

Love she heard was on sale and stuffed a few of those,

She sold her wings to the sky and bought a free flight,

They do not accept credit cards for souls!

Workshop by Maja Drobac!

2009-10-26T21:36:00.000-07:00

Coconut skies and starry sand!

2009-10-20T09:37:00.000-07:00

Coconut skies and starry sand.. they say it is Gods’ own country , the Indian tourism proclaims it to be so.A road trip to Kerala... With the highways maintained so well, its just easy to zip through to any destination..The weather has been pleasant . It feels like the rain gods have just cleansed the place before our arrival. The trees are a perfect parrot green with coconut trees adding their personal hue.
I just managed to escape the pollution and noise that the last day of Diwali presents all the city dwellers with. I was inhaling the smoke that seemed to choke every breath. Watching the fire works lit sky , I wondered what everyone was celebrating? Are they all fooling themselves with an idea of happiness. They celebrate the glory of life , welcoming godess lakshmi..our neighbours just flaunt their wealth by bursting fire crackers and wasting a lot of electricity. They almost managed to burn our house down by setting fire to our laundry and pile of news papers through a highly complicated cracker that releases a parachute with flames to descend on different roof tops. Its a display of their power, attitude, irresponsibility, stupidity and more.
It seems like their is a Dark cloud on my head all the time! why does it always rain on me?
I am sure many people feel the same way under stress and frustrating circumstances.
I wish sometimes that people would notice the sky amidst all this chaos.
In Guruvayoor working on my laptop doing some research for my new piece it was blissfull experience to just watch an aimless goat kid in a green field, or egrets resting on buffalos in lazy swamps, wasps building home under a cosy chair, little children's clothes hanging on a line between giant trees, the sillouhette palm leaves against a moonlight sky ... a childs' smile (arjun in the picture)
Does the efficiency of an individual increase with a rested break? Why do we get entangled in the rat race of cities. Just coming back to bangalore not being able to experience caertain basic things like waking up to fresh air & orange sky, walking bare feet on sand, no traffic noise or morning rush...
Feels like I am writing an article for kerla tourism..
Well thats me.. he he ...I really do not know what to say .. just random thoughts that seem to sway!
In kerala, doing Kalari. Feels perfect . The simplicity of rural life is simply amazing.Feels like I belong here... There are very few places where I feel like this. Home is never far away.. Home is home and stars too... Its about feeling at home.. Gurukal or Jawahar or anyone at Kalari . So simple and so generous. The willingness to share, learn coupled with humility has become a rarity and its beautiful to find it in abundance here. Loving Gruvayoor.. living guruvayoor.

My job is not a joke!

2009-10-06T03:02:00.000-07:00

Is it not amazing that we all take our work too seriously.
As children when we played the 'House game', we knew exactly what our moms did but it was the father who always left for work and came back home from work in the evenings. I knew he did something with a lot of files and signing papers but nothing more than that.
Everytime I tell someone that I am a dancer they are all shocked that I am paid for being a dancer. Apart form artists and people aware of artists its still a mystery how people can making a living out of shaking their hips or just jumping about .(kuniyodu or alladisodu). I used to get terribly offended a few years ago but now I see the humor in it..
Just a few months ago an old lady told me that being a dancer is not finacially secure and inssisted that I start a small buisness with a photocopying machine . She was extremely serious and nothing could change her opinion. It did not matter to her that I had travelled extensively performing extensively and have managed to survive as a dancer for the past nine years. She was deeply concerned about my marriage and said that no man would want to marry a dancer and I start a small income earning venture immediately . She finally gave up the idea of me taking up a profession of Photocopier when I told her that I am a law graduate . she turned a deaf ear when I told her that I have chosen dance and not law...
I have had my own ideas of various professions ... I have never been able to figure out what software engineers do .. Write codes, decode them....and more and more ... If i were a cartoonist .. I would write a cartoonfigure a IT geek who is desperately trying to sketch horns (kodu or code wich means horns in kannada) on various pictures or images on the computer:D

Mr & Mrs Gooseberry!

2009-10-05T22:52:00.000-07:00

Quentin & Suba wed...
Two lovely souls decide to spend the rest of their loves together.
The wedding was held at one of the oldest Churches of England.
Looks like a dream, feels like a dream and I am glad that the dream has come true for teh both o them.
I do not know if I believe in marriage.WHy marriage???
Companionship, friendship, love, security, social sanction, children, family, money, emotional security, inheritence,financial security,sex,fears,?????
Everytime I see an old couple walk hand in hand, there is this breeze of euphoria that travels through my heart. To have live for more than a few decades, to have experienced youth, middle age and old age together. Lifes' ups and downs, moments of ecstacy, pain, pleasure, loss, birth, death, lonliness, fears...
You cannot be an island without being surrounded by something or the other.We are all nomadic by nature.To settle is not part of our natural evolution and the reasons that led to the origin of marriage do not necessarily exist in todays' world but the instituion of marriage still exists.why??? no clue!!!
Yet ! its lovely to see two individuals from two different worlds come together and share and experience life together where they grow as individuals as they walk together. The path is your companion even as you walk along. Its important to have someone to love and to love someone...
Wishing Mr & Mrs Gooseberry(Its a cooked up name that I have given , cos they live in an old cottage in a place that sounds like Gooseberry) a HAppy Married Life!

One can be

2009-10-04T06:54:00.001-07:00

A few things that one can be ...
A grain of sand, a worm in a birds beak,
a writers block, an invisible ink,
leaves in may, an atom of oxygen,
saturns ring, a mummified king,
a marble slab, a diamond ring,
floor thats clean, a toilet thats flushed,
a moonless night, a starless sky,
cupids wings, bodh gaya tree,
a word in greek, a silent phrase,
a bluish pink, a greenish grey,
a can of worms , a cat in a bag,
hair thats let down, a laughing thread,
a glass of reflection, a bag full of seeds ,
a circle thats straight, an electronic emotion,
a third eye, a colgate smile,
giggling books, crooked rainbow,
a poem that sells, a story that crumbles,
a mango seed , a banana peel,
an empty road, an ice cream cone,
a stampless post, a crawling phone,
a naked truth, a polished lie,
talking tornados , weeping storms,
finger on your lips, written kiss,
an evil god, a prayer's curse,
a mothers womb, a childs' little toe,
painful knees , toes on point,
swaying hips, boney legs,

and more and more and more...

more to be added in this list of moronic things!

Futility of Life

2009-10-04T02:29:00.000-07:00

I wake up in the morning trying to recall all the things that I need to do that I had planned for myself last night before I fell asleep. I cannot remember any... I make a mental note to write these down in my schedule ... I forget... I manage to remember and when I wake up the next morning I remember that there are a trillion things that I need to do .. But I cannot remember.. I cannot even remember to look at the schedule... If I do not remember then its not important ...Right???
Life still goes on.. It does not matter ...

All my yesterdays seem to be just as todays and probably all my tomoros would still be the same. I wonder what makes every day monotonously different if the change is dynamically constant.{I am allowed to blabber nonsense}. Every moment you try to percieve life in a new light and in the meanwhile just grow old.. older .. waiting for death to embrace us .Death is like an old companion.. an old wife or a husband that you have taken for granted.. You know he or she will never leave..and you have no choice but to just live with him or her ignoring her presence.

The futility kicks in like a drone before a long concert... It stays on and on and on... untill the music stops for a while.. Its more evident when the music that is being played is not harmonious with the drone.. out of tune rather... the drone seems to be a pleasant thing when it falls in love with the note that is being rendered...A drone is a constant reminder that the drone does not exist.Its the air on which you build your castles...

Someone once told me that Life would be more interesting if you did something new every day .. It could be a new action, experience or just new way of percieving the world. TRY THIS!!! its one of the best modes of injecting yourself with placebo called hope.

Yet i live.... I love.. I have learnt to stop playing games... But I am part of this bigger game nevertheles... Jumping egoes... bouncing testorone... unpredictible estrogen.. harmones... body... chemicles.. energies... vaccum.. elements.. ether... vibrations... perception... and more ...
I live.. I believe.. I do not believe... I have no hope.. no faith... Yet I live.. LOve..
Futile... futile ... futile!!!

2009-09-17T06:45:00.000-07:00

I have been waiting for the right moment to word my experiences in Delhi. IS it the right time?? Not yet !! I guess its never the right time ... We spend most of our lives waiting for the perfect moment and seldom realize that 'now' is it! People wait to travel and explore until they are settled in lives( financially , emotionaly, professionally). Why is it that the things that you want to do the most ,are the things that your reserve till the end. Its like leaving the cherry or the icing of a cake till the nth moment. People wait for the perfect moment to express their love to someone ... In case of a man, the woman he loves always ends up getting married, an other lover , cancer or simply dies( Bollywood style).Many of my friends believe that they can dedicate their lives to art after they have accumalated enough money to have a secure life. The most important things are all reserved for retirement.Maybe there is a logical reason behind people's thinking but I dont understand how ?

So here I go... As crude as they may sound or as unpolished as they might seem.. I am writing about my stay in Delhi.
Delhi- the capital of innumerous dynasties that ruled over India. A city that was bulit, destroyed and rebuilt many times with the River Yamuna giving it a different dimension each time she changed her course over the centuries.(A path along which the yamuna flowed a few years ago is now the ring road)(Mehrauli where qutub minar is situated is almost 10 kms away from where the Yamuna flows today) A city of monuments. What I write is not necessarily perfect in terms of Historical or chronological precision. For example - A man at the Hazrat Nizamuddin was talking to a friend saying that the DArga has the tomb of Poet Amir Khusro , that Nizamuddin the Prophet actually loved his work so much that he had his tomb made and people pay their respects to both these lovely souls.
The most beautiful part of Delhi has been the marriage of Hindu and Muslim culture . One could witness this blend in food, people, language, literature, architecture, language, names, names of places, history, monument, streets, food, cuisine, history, books and more...Farrah a friend from Delhi explained to me about the different sects of Islam ,Shias(Friend) and Sunnis(Clean).She also explained to me about a Darga, a place built in the memory of a prophet , a place of social gathering and prayers. The memories and the sounds of HAzrat Nizamuddin is etched in my heart. I went with a friend of mine and was asked to cover my head . I was not carrying anything appropriate and so had to use my Harem trousers to cover my head.(HAve always wondered why men are expected to remove their upper garments in many Hindu temples) The Darga hosts a beautiful musical performance everyday especially on thursdays. They sufi singers express their hearts out through music.An euphoric feeling very similar to the one that I feel when I listen to the nadaswarams in temples or gospel music in cathedrals.

Shall write more soon!

Dreams Bizarre Dreams!

2009-08-17T09:24:00.000-07:00

I woke up sobbing like a little kid in the morning. My tears just would not stop ! They were a mixed result of pain, fear and anxiety. A dream! I had a dream! A gruesome one! I could come to terms with reality only after I spoke with my friend...My tears would not stop...
A train station -an abandoned train station where little children clad in ragged clothes would line up on train tracks like tin soldiers only for the train to approach them with full speed.They would all be flung on to the other tracks due to the impact, Amputated and injured they would walk like corpses only to beg on the platforms.Not a soul would stop them from repeating this task every time a train approached and those who died on tracks had no food for the day.. They were dead!!!
I stood by the station watching this monstrous scene and a small sweet girl approached me. She wore a beautiful skirt( reshme langa) and blouse.She had the prettiest eyes and her face glowed with a beautiful bindi between her brows.I looked at her and smiled... she smiled back... She was the girl I would adopt... my daughter.. my lovely child...I thought to myself... and then..
She stretched her hand out to beg.. I looked at her with eyes filled with love...She looked at my hand indicating that she wanted something that I was wearing around my wrist .. I removed my bangle and gave it to her... she flung it back sweetly and held my wrist again...and started to bite my hand like a piece of meat... She continued insisting about having my watch.. I would give anything she wished for...but... I was not wearing a watch ...She chased me with smiling eyes and the more she wanted to kill me .. I loved her more and more...
I started to slowly walk away from her and climbed these stairs that went up a tower. They weren't spiral but zig zag in shape and I slowly ascended them only to realize that they narrowed down as I went higher. At last I came to a point where the stairs were so small that only a little girl could walk up these stairs that finally led to a hole in the wall..
I stood there... scared.. why was i scared? I have no clue!
I looked down and there she was my lovely child. I looked at her and saw something that brought tears into my eyes... A sense of familiarity -a sense of fear... who was this girl?? was it me, myself??or my child?? my lovely daughter I sensed in my womb?

There I was ,climbing that last flight of stair and all she wanted was some time... But I was not wearing a watch! I had no way out ..but the hole in the wall... and i stood there watching the scene beneath.. If i fall, I shall be lined up with these little kids on tracks...I had to fall ... to get away from this kid... and I did!
Woke up from my dream,,, i have lumps in my throat just thinking about this... I don't know what it means,,,
My friend told me that dreams are just sequences of images, unexpressed wishes or thoughts that have touched your subconscious. I don't know what it means. Another friend insisted that I meditate , another spoke of a past life deed.
All i feel now... remember now is ... waking up from a dream... all alone .. scared.. crying.. sobbing.. like a kid!

ಕನ್ನಡ

2009-08-13T11:39:00.001-07:00

ಕನ್ನಡ
ಕನ್ನಡ
ಕನ್ನಡ

Someone special to share!

2009-08-13T09:17:00.000-07:00

A monsoon shower, a crimson sunset, a soothing breeze, the taste of mangoes, a glass of fresh lime juice on a hot summer day … Somethings never go out of fashion.
Today , I went to this grocery store and while waiting for the cashier to serve me, I realized that I was naturally swaying for a piece of music that was being played. A waltz… it felt like I was in my personal space with a special someone just dancing away…It feels beautiful to share lifes’ most precious moments with someone special. I still remember , as a kid I used to play in my garden and it was my treasure trove. Anything I found (a piece of broken glass bangle, an artificial pearl, an old coin, colored glass, seeds ) I would run to show it to my mother, my brother or a friend. Everytime I painted a picture, wrote something, colored something, saw something… that amazed my senses I was ready to share my experiences .. I always exaggerate my stories.. It gives great satisfaction to recite my Lifes’ poems with the most dramatic voice.. A drone is not me! I always give an impression that I have something to hide and what I want to share is never simple! He he !
When I was a 7year old kid, I visited my friends house and we lived on the ground floor and we never had a terrace.. Its sounds silly but its true.. I liked the idea of having a terrace , an open space you can still call home! I still remember there was a small pipe that was built to drain out all the rain water from the surface and my ball fell and landed on the ground floor. He he ! Man! Was I excited ! I went to my younger brother and told him that I had been to a magical place where things from the sky would travel to the ground through a magical tunnel. He was amazed and wanted to visit the house immediately . He did and was extremely disappointed that it was just a stupid pipe! No imagination!!!
To travel by trains , to stare at the landscape for hours, to cook with a friend, to dance in the living room, laugh watching friends, long drives, holding hands, a warm embrace, movie plans, the first kiss, mothers food, a moonlit night, a 20km walk on new years eve, a perfect painting, a tear transforming into a smile, the thought of some one missing you, the timelessness of meeting your lover after a trillion light years, unlimited conversations, meeting of minds in candle light, getting drenched in the rain, shivering memories, a duppatta that gives you warmth, sharing a cup of chai, curd rice and mango pickles, a good back massage, a road trip, relativity lessons on a small white board, sleeping on the floor, sharing the same pillow, a mail from an old friend, constant chats, raising phone bills, driver at your service, shopping spree, read a book- share the story , play a tune and live the melody , two body one soul, a walk in the park, stare at the dark, taste food that has been cooked together, making vangibath at 2pm, chorepgraph as you clean the floor, rituals of saving the water on waterless days, play dominoes, or trivial pursuit though you suck at it , or learn the pentatonic scales, play the paino or dance to a musicians’ tunes, or the heart that ponds at the perfect touch , meeting thaatha and listening to his adventures, remembering my grandmas’ lovely fables, kokam kadi or yummy rasam, awfully headaches and healing touch, long waits and time flying by….
Romance and love will never go out of fashion.. They are timeless.. People have been experiencing and expressing it through ages and it shall continue to live beyond time…
All experiences are special as soon as they are shared..
Cheers! To Life !

Interwoven thoughts

2009-08-11T21:58:00.000-07:00

I have been meaning to pen my thoughts for a while…
There has not been a single thought that has flowed long enough to form a stream of pondering. Somewhere all these thoughts exist parallely and though unconnected they have a beautiful way of co-existence. On a deeper level they are part of the same thing and this link is not easily perceivable to our limited senses.

Where do I begin?
Friends-
“My friends exist therefore ‘I am’”
You can tell a man by his friends.
Well , if that's true then I am ‘mentally ill’, ‘Intellectual artist who is frustrated in life’ , a selfish soul and more…
These are a few things that the closest friends of mine had to say about me. Bizarrely they know me a little bit more than the rest of the world.
Dreams-
I get some super cool dreams at night. Sometimes I wonder if they could be made into movie scripts. Here is a dream I had a few days ago . The details are crystal clear and the memory is engraved when my mind when I snap out of it. Sometimes I don't know where I am ? Cos I live my Dream as I dream my reality .
The dream was about this man who lived on earth ( it was a south Indian film star named madhavan- why?? I have no clue- ) He is playing a game in a huge play ground and he is about catch this ball… more like a goal keeper. As the ball approached him he dived to save the game and then TA DA! The earth turned into water and he dived underwater only to catch a basket ball and dunk it in the basket. The crowd roared – he was a super hero. This whole world was just like life on earth, its just that the gravitational pull was different because of the buoyancy. Everyone here could breathe, walk and swim.. In other words – they were as free as birds.Madhavan watched a kalari class in kerala.. The jumps and kicks were uninhibited and it was a spectacle. Why was he in the other world? He was there to save that world from a disaster? What disaster? It was just this huge field with roman pillars everywhere and I saw him veer his sword and fight these water beings and then there was a huge cannon ball that was shot towards where he was .. and he leaped to catch it in the air… and then…..he caught the ball and the crowd cheered . He had saved the goal… He was a hero!!! They won the match….
Strange incidents-
A dancer friend of mine passed away recently. The news spread like wild fire. He was a fabulous dancer and an established choreographer Everyone is trying to figure out the reasons. He committed suicide and I was shocked …and I do not know what to say , what to feel or how to react. I remember his smile, and moments of affection with his girl friend and his obsession with Poker. . I remember giving him a massage - he had a painful knot in his back. I have danced a small bit of his of choreography and I have watched him on stage.Its amazing how all the tiny details of memories surface and keep you intrigued just like a drop of spilt oil in a puddle of water.
The effect of death is more on the people who are alive. Death influences life but for the person who is dead- that's it!!! ( limited to my perception) .I don't know what to say or feel… but I blindly state these information like scribbling on a printed newspaper. Life is like a cross word puzzle is nt it ?? You have the words filled in for you already and you have to ask questions to figure out what these words mean in this griddle. We might not be able to change the answers that are filled in life’s’ rows and columns but what questions we ask and what journeys of discovery we take gives a new meaning to it…

Mera samaan lauta do!

2009-08-05T20:31:00.000-07:00


How I wish I could bury all the memories of the past.
Here is a song that would express this wonderful emotion, beautifully sung by Asha Bhonsle :)
Soul stirring!

Mera kuch saamaan tumhare paas pada hai -
o o o ! saavan ke kuch bheege bheege din rakhe hain
aur mere ik khat main lipti raat padi hai
vo raat bhulaa do, mera vo saamaan lauta do -
mera kuch saamaan tumhaare paas pada hai -

patjhad hai kuch ... hai na ?
o ! patjhas main kuch patton ke girne kee aahat
kaanon main ek baar pahan ke laut aai thee
patajhad kee vo saakh abhi tak kaanp rahi hai
vo saakh gira do, mera vo saamaan lauta do -

ek akeli chhataree main jab aadhe aadhe bheeg rahe the -
aadhe sookhe aadhe geele, sukha to main le aaye thee
geela man shayad bistar ke paas pada ho
vo bhijwa do, mera vo saamaan lauta do

ek so sola chaand ki ratain ek tumhare kaandhe ka til -
geeli mahendi ki khushbu, jhoot mooth ke shikwe kuch
jhooth mooth ke wade sab yaad karaa do
sab bhijwa do, mera vo saamaan lauta do -

ek ijaazat de do bas, jab isako dafanaaungee
main bhi vaheen so jaungee
main bhi vaheen so jaungee

Respect Women!

2009-07-31T02:00:00.000-07:00

Well...

Why do we expect a man to respect a woman?

Its impossible for any man to live the life of a woman or even empathize with her.

In a land where the image of an ideal man is 'Rama' , I wonder what a man's idea of respect is.

Woman - considered to be a second class citizen through times immemorial .

Well.. I would not like to generalize but hey!!! its a chauvinist society and you would experience the wrath of male dominance only when you have lived your life as a woman.

Its ironic that men who work towards the reforms in the society are often found abusing their wives and they are worshipped as idols and role models by people.

It makes me mad to see these men who talk about laws, reforms, education ,wisdom and more.. with no room for sensitivity and love within,..

Its true that a man and woman are different ... they are made differently , probably for different purposes.. I refuse to accept that any man, any man in his entire life would be able to understand how it feels to be a woman..

So for all these men... who think they know...

All i have to say is..

Ya Right!!!

Independent woman…

2009-07-15T07:47:00.000-07:00

My mother always told me to grow up to be an independent woman. She has had limited education as a child and was married in her early twenties. She always aspired to be a teacher, she always tells me that she was one of the best students in her school( with a lot of pride and an innocent spark in her eyes). She has always been a homemaker since then…In other words emotionally and financially dependent on my father all her life. She always told me to be an independent woman… was she implying that I do not grow up to be like her?
My mothers’ story is that of many countless women on this planet , regardless of culture, nationality, religion , economic or class differences.
She has always taught me to respect every individual, to never accept disrespectful behaviour, to realize the value of education and hard work, love family and to stand on my own feet( an expression often used to stress on self dependence).I could not bear any instance where she was being treated like a mere object. She never wanted me to be in a situation where a man would raise his voice or even threaten me. I often found myself in the middle of arguments between my parents and would make sure that my mother was treated with a lot of respect. The situation always went out of hand, when she did not understand my fathers’ intentions. He always lost his temper and tried to force his ideologies upon her. He was always right! He was always right! He was always right! She never understood him. She never understood him. She never understood him! He yelled and screamed and my mother resorted to silence. Why???( I have always questioned) Simply because she did not want to aggravate his anger…Then things cooled down..

I have not let anyone verbally abuse me nor have I let any man threaten me with physical harm.(Just a few times- bizarrely by men who have been role models). I ll ensure that these don't repeat anymore! Always perceived as stubborn, adamant and strong-headed girl, I have never let anyone take me for granted. Being branded egoistic is a natural outcome of my behaviour.
So , am I an independent woman that my mother aspired me to be?
Emotionally independent? Independence from?
Financially independent? I take care of my own needs?

I simply do not understand this whole concept. Hoping that evolution does not dictate my life.. Its a tough battle- may be a losing battle. Why does a woman become emotionally insecure and crave for companionship? How does one express love? How does one express the need for love without demanding for it?
There are a lot of quotes that are running in my thoughts right now..
‘Show me a beautiful woman, and I ll show a man who is tired of her!’- Perfect Stranger
Stroke a mans’ D*** - you ll have him for a day- Stroke a man’s ego – You will have him for life”
“Understand a woman! What are you talking about? A woman is not meant to be understood- She is meant to be loved!”
I don't want to sound like a feminist . But I think I am sounding like one!

With Gati in delhi!

2009-07-14T09:19:00.000-07:00

I am currently in a dance residency in Delhi that has been organized by Gati( Anusha , Mandeep, Varun, Ewa, Mehneer), creating( trying to create ) a piece called 'Maya' in collaboration with Suhas Kaundinya. To understand the mysteries of the universe through Science and Indian Mysticism.This piece along with two more works of 2 other chosen choreographers- Manola & Swati , shall have its National premiere at the Indian Habitat Centre on the 29th of August.

It has been an interesting journey so far. Living in Delhi, getting accustomed to its culture, food, people, life style, weather, Auto rickshaws has been a saga in itself.Living alone does give you a sense of isolation and sowhere its harder to cope with this fact while you are still in your own country. I would not want to brand it a 'struggle' at all! Simply because, I have seldom been in a situation where I have been given the luxury of all the resources to create a new piece of work without the burden of organization.

It has been a lonely planet in many ways. Especially because its a solo and I have no outside eye to review the piece during its process of creation. We have 3 mentors- Navtej Singh Johar, Maya Rao & Zulleikha( Khoj) who are absolutely amazing ... We had a lighting workshop with Zulleika , who has done some amazing light designs for both theatre and dance. We could pose a lot of questions about lights and also work with what would be appropriate for the piece. She is not our light designer but she is here to ensure that we think and design lights along with the choreography.
Have I ventured out to explore the space??? Not really.. my journey so far has been restricted to the airport, my lovely friend Shweta's home with who I am staying, Gati studio, Max meuller Bhavan , Habitat Centre , Global Arts Village and today to National School of Drama. I did wander a bit to have a look at Humayun's tomb though!
Its a dancers' journal...
My strengths have become my fears..
To go beyond my comfort zone .
Have I reached a place where I am scared to fail that I resort to techniques hat would definitely work for me..
It feels like I am still trying to run on the runway ..
Fear of falling...
Scared ??
Hiding behind my strengths?

I need to work on different techniques of improvizations!!!!
Doing yoga...
Missing Ballet- YAna
Missing home-
mom and sis!
Missing Blore!
Living Delhi!( Hot super hot delhi!)

A tear that has forgotton to flow!

2009-07-05T20:29:00.000-07:00

Slowly... I seep into a world that I don't belong.
A blot on a brand new blouse..
Gibberish placed in a soulful poem.
A sneeze in a melodious song
broken limb in a 30k marathon…
Does the sense of being an alien haunt everyone?
I guess we are not of the same kind -not anyone.
Feels like it's a psycho lab- ‘this world’ –where we are just lab rats.
Invariably, I am part of this experiment with what has been injected within.
Forced to feel the emotions that I am exposed to and sometimes, to hide them flawlessly well.
Just a puppet with strings of happiness in nameless hands.?
Am I playing my part extremely well..?
Am I the apple of everyones’ eyes , a reason that transforms your face into a smile…?
I wander nameless paths and meet endless strangers looking for a home.
In beautiful thoughts, countless memories or just a loving heart…
I am my own self help book and my own well of self pity.
I am my own lie that gives me hope and I am my own death.
What is it that I do, when pain and pleasure are the faces of the same coin?
I flip them and leave everything to sheer chance.
What do I do when the wind forgets to blow, the fire forgets to glow, the water forgets to flow and the earth forgets to let go? What do I do when love forgets to love ?
Have I just become a tear that has forgotten to flow???

???

2009-06-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

I have been unable to chose a title for this blog...
I wonder why we grow up...
I remember( well i dont remember) many things as a child..
Did we just live for that moment because we were unaware about the concept of time.
Time made no sense to me then. Sometimes it felt like I had to wait for a long time for school to finish.Mondays were always longer and fridays too. Thursdays somehow seemed shorter beacuse of PT classes. Saturday though was a half day was unexpectedly long and boring.I have no clue why.. Sundays as always flew by...Math classes were always longer than language classes. lunch break was never long enough. the bell always rang before we could finish our food and play. They alway rang the school bell early in the morning and always delayed during the last hour.A clock was just a smart accessory. When did I get into the loop of time?
As a performer you get lost in your own universe.. Being selfish almost becomes a necessity. Being selfish is not that bad .. We all are.. Very few accept and embrace it ..
I recently told a friend that I find myself the happiest when I am with children..My friend told me that I find meaning in life with children when everything else makes no sense because they are the closest to being natural( Sorry! cannot rephrase the exact words or get the exact meaning out)No jumping egos, no complications and no emotional drama..Is it escapism?? Life does'nt make any sense to me any more... There have been rules laid down telling me how to love, how much to love, how many people to love, when , why, who and what to love. It has begun to suffocate me. Simply because I am confining myself to these rules made by nobody...
Why am I dancing? The last performance I did not bother myself to invite too many people. Bo pr.. Is my performance all about telling the world what I love doing or is it about living my dance?? At the end of the day I was happy... Not content professionally but happy dancing!
I remember loving people.. many remain special to me even to this date.. Somewhere along the line expectations creep in.. Is it wrong to expect a response from the person you love...Is it wrong to love a person who will never keep me happy in terms of the world? Why cant I love more than one person the same way?
I dont believe in any religion any more. I respect everyones' choice , faith and beliefs... But I do not belong to any religion.. Sometimes I wonder if I would be able to say this out loud if I were born in a society that is extremely rigid with no voice of an individual being heard...
Today.. Pina Bausch, one of my greatest inspirations has left all of us.. She is no more...I watched her work at Wuppertal in germany a few years ago and she has influenced the world of art on a completely different level. She is no more! Would it have mattered to me if I was a child.. When a mother abondons the child .. does the child know it??? or does it just cries for someone to satisfy its basic needs...
am i trying to fight evolution.?.. There is a rule that says that ' Extinction is the rule- Evolution is an exception'...I wonder if its true??
My thoughts wander aimlessly ... as I walk these nameless paths....
would i find my way in the dark or in this misleading light??
I am lost...
I am lost...
Is this where I belong?

Marxist.. who me?

2009-04-30T04:48:00.000-07:00

I was absolutely flabbergasted when a friend of mine said that I am a Marxist...
A marxist...mmh????
Who me?
I remember studying about Karl Marx in college. His ideas of communism and classless society .

I wonder if my friend is a fundamentalist who is obsessed with his own set of ideals and beliefs?

We all have this habit of defining and compartmentalizing everything.

Have you read the book 'Sophie’s' world'? Its a surreal story where a little girl named Sophie , gets to time travel to understand and retrace the development of thinking in our world. She meets Socrates, Aristotle, Plato, thinkers of Renaissance & reformation period , post modern thinkers, modern thinkers and understands how peoples' perception of the world has changed( grown?) with times.

Why can’t we accept the fact that everyone thinks differently and every individual is a unique universe. Wait a Second! That would make me an Individualist!
Why can’t we have a completely different world with no rules and borders? A world ,that is not controlled by Governments or invested power. Ooops! Does that make me an Idealist!
To imagine a world without religion, without the human perception of God... Nothing is real and this existence is fake…Is it a nilhist or an Atheist speaking?
There exists a much larger force that controls the universe...
Is it nature? does that make me a Naturalist?
Is it pre destined? existentialist?
Am I a spiritualist?
Personally, I do not believe in any religion. Faith is a funny thing. It’s the source of false hope in many ways. Do we convince ourselves that there is a much bigger purpose in life than mere existence? Every man is his own religion. With his own beliefs, principles, truths, perceptions, definitions and understanding of the universe.

To trace ones' roots to our forefathers. How important is it to trace our origin back to our past? Don't we all come from the same source? We were all monkeys and if we go back in time we were just unicellular organisms. We are all made of the same thing aren’t we? Yet we are all different and unique. This dualism, that culminates to form, the only thing that the Universe is made of ,is so beautiful. I am sure there is a word for this as well.

As an artist we are all taught to analyze every movement, every scale, every stroke, every note ,every technique...Does it make us better artists? The dance form of Bharatnatyam that exists today is not more than 60 years old. It was revived by Veteran Rukmini Devi and today the so called traditionalists are so rigid about experimenting with the art form. ‘We have to protect and preserve our age old tradition’ is what they say If one wants to experiment and explore they are branded modernist or experimentalists or contemporary artists. mmmmhhhhh...I wonder why?
Can art grow beyond technique and definition?

There is a strong feeling within me, that tells me that, I am in my own little cocoon . Every time I have a set opinion about something it implies that I am not completely knowledgeable in that subject. I read somewhere that, when we arrive at a conclusion, it simply means that we are tired of thinking... Do we base all our theories on assumptions? Isn’t it ironic that the greatest structures of truths are built on foundation of assumptions.

How honest am I?

2009-04-28T05:34:00.000-07:00

How honest am i?
How uncensored is my blog?
Does my speech voice my heart?
How truthful am I as an artist?

It is impossible for an individual to understand the complexities of another.It takes a life time to understand oneself -with no positive results unless you attain moksha( maybe)...
Why do we make this faint attempt to analyse , understand and empathize when we know that it is completely futile?

Personally I have not met anyone who understands me and I dont expect anyone to know me either.There are a few people who are very close to my heart who are under the impression that they comprehend the functioning of my emotions and thoughts very well!

Human mind is conditioned to concrete comprhension. We always look for a narrative in a work of art, a thread of thoughts, an element of continuity or an ounce of faniliarity.
Was einstien understood at all??? What did Picasso or Dali actually think when they created their master piece? what inspired Mozart or Bethoven to create their unique compositions?

Will we ever know??? Dont we just love their work regardless of their actual state of mind ?
Is it true that we need to understand the psyche of an artist to understand his work? Does'nt the art speak for itself??

Everytime I start work on a new piece or a project there is always a parallel thought process that runs along the line of creativity.What would a second person think about it?
If its a performing art . Does it exist without a performance? Can a single performer create the illusion of a performance? Do we actually perform for an audience or is always an imagination?

More questions about my honesty as a performer and as a person are surfacing...
I question myself... hoping to find answers..
Hope!

In love with Einstien

2009-04-12T10:38:00.000-07:00

I was reading this book named einsteins' dream by ( authors' name.. wait a sec) Alan lightman. its pretty cool! its 'relativity', for people like me who get lost ,when someone is trying to explain things about quantum physics with equations and graphs. a friend once told me that a good teacher is very good at telling stories. i like being taught like that or i like learning when its fun.( we spend a lot of time punctuating sentences).i have to write a snippet of the book in this post - so here goes......

"Many are convinced that mechanical time does not exist.when they pass the giant clock on the kramgasse they do not see it;nor do they hear its chimes when sending packages on Postgasse or strolling between flowers in the Rosengarten. They wear watches on their wrists, but only but only as ornaments or courtesies to those who give watches as gifts.They do not keep watches in their houses . Instead they listen to their heartbeats. They feel the rhythms of their moods and desires.Such people eat when they are hungry and go to their job in the millinery or the chemists' whenever they wake from their sleep ,they make love hours all day.such people laugh at the thought of mechanical time. they know that time moves in fits and starts.they know that time struggles forward with a weight on its back when they are rushing an injured child to the hospital or bearing the gaze of a neighbour wronged.And they too know that time darts across the field of vision when they are eatingf well with friends or recieving praise or lying in the arms of a secret lover".

Understanding Relativity for me has been such a beautiful journey. It started with a friend of mine who could explain the nuances of relativity beautifully to me in terms of life as we know it or feel it. according to him, life as we saw it was all based on perception and entirely dependent on the senses .This phenomenon - we got to experience it personally and live through a phase of life that seems like a million years.I wonder, when we say time is flying by... are we slowing down, suspended in time for longer than the earth time, where you actually are aware of the universe and not moviing with an illusion that man has created for himself called time.

Would I sound completely eccentric if I said that ,Einstein is helping me look at life, in a completely different perspective. Instead of getting caught in the bubble of my individuality ,I am begining to see myself as a speck of dirt in this huge universe where my existence has its own cause and effects.I dont know if it is going to repeat itself. Its happening in the past as I write and as I thought it is (has become) past. live the moment. they tell you. donno if its already been lived .Knowing that it was there and it is happening as I speak , it will happen. I stand like this silent observor doing nothing but Being.

Where do i stand? Is there anything called stillness? Is it possible to stay constant? Will i not move on even if i dont want to?

Change is the only constant thing.. i suppose... somethings will never change.... he he

Well ! As Einstein would say, 'Its all relative!'.

Dancers & Mirrors

2009-04-08T20:36:00.001-07:00

" Dancers are so in love with themselves!'
"They have to have a mirror everytime they move!'.
"They are absolute narscissists, they just cant stop admiring themselves!".

I wonder if every artist is selfish . its almost like an essential attribute to be an artist...
( I am sure Jyoti would have something to say about this.. something academic.. )

Many of my friends actually think that dancers cant get enough of themselves. Dancers are so conscious about what they wear, how they look, their appearance, their health, their diet , their fitness , their external beauty and more... regardless of their gender.

I asked myself this question... why does a dancer need a mirror during rehearsals or training?
The answer is extremely simple...cos the body is our tool and to understand movement you need to actually look at it. For example.. if i ask you to close your eyes and stretch your arms ... what would you do? there are atleast a million possibilities of placing your arms in a stretched position. Bharatnatyam has a different defintion of straight arms than that of ballets'...there have been different schools that have done deep research and they have tried to understand movement through various techniques.

Some schools understand movement through the use of breath, some percieve body as a machine, some look at the movement of a foetus to understand how body moves naturally and some have had a very spiritual approach. The quest is still on. There is no way one could stop exploration in any field , any art .... knowldege is an ocean... you are never satisfied.

Why mirrors? well if my ballet teachers tell me to stretch my metatarsals and point my foot or hold my arms with my back and place it a la seconde´. i hold them and there is always a correction. It is very visual.. There is no written universal rules and every dancer has to find her path and the best thing that suits her/her body and soul.

why mirrors? A musician could fall in love with his voice, a instrumentalist could admire his musical instrument for hours, a poet could recite his poetry for ever, a sculptor could gaze at his master piece for ages, a film maker watch his own movie, a composer listen to his songs.. then why would nt a dancer immerse in admiring, understanding and appreciating the body...

I have seen dancers who are immersed in self love but how is that different from an actress or a model spending hours in front of the mirror or painters who would make self portraits or photographers who take their own pictures or sculptors who sculpt statues of themselves and people who have their pictures hanging on every wall of their living space.

We never had mirrors in Bharatnatyam classes for almost 14 years. The teachers opininons and corrections apart from the reflection of your dance that you saw in their expression was the only source of self improvement.The lines were determined by her perception.Your technique and your presence also entirely depended on her and there have been moments where I had felt something was wrong. There would be injuries and pain in my body sending me signals that I was nt doing something right... Your body is like ur tool and the teacher has the responsibility of shaping it until you reach a stage where you can look into yourself and also look at your body fro the outside . they are different levels of learning and performing.

I hope one day i would reach a stage where movement is not limited to my body. Where there is no differentiation between the dancer and dance. beyond technique , beyond pretention, beyond insecurity and beyond presentation. I shall find what i am looking for , deep within my soul.
I hope one day I ll dance without the metaphorical mirror of this world...

Changing Bangalore

2009-04-08T08:25:00.000-07:00

A walk along margosa road ..
7th cross(malleshwaram) CTR dosa place...
8th cross janata hotel ...
Sampige road market...
Gavigangadhareshwara temple..
bull temple, ragi gudda temple..
Jai nagar shopping complex...
Chitrakala parishath...
cubbon park , lalbagh, majestic, market... a few things that remain that reminds me of the old Bangalore that Igrew up in...

Bangalore has changed sooooo much... where is my home ? All i see are traces of my home town in patches spread out amidst the concrete jungle .
These changes are necessary for growth?
I question growth itself...
After a very long time, almost after 5 years I am travelling by BMTC buses. Yes! our own kempu (red) or neeli( blue) public transport buses.For a change ,I am not worried about driving my car in the ocean of traffic amidst the organized chaos of Bangalore.I sit there reading a book or looking out of the window trying to absorb the little beauty of bangalore thats left.

The road to Maharanis College near Old Central Jail was home to more than 100 trees that were atleast 150 to 200 years old.If I am not wrong, the road was very broad and the trees made the traffic jams bearable. A few months ago... Mirra, a very dear friend of mine ,calls me with a crying heart telling me that there are no trees on that road any more.Everytime I drive by that road it feels like I am passing through a graveyard.I remember the huge trees that made a beautiful canope of green for a stretch of One kilometer from Anand rao circle to cubbon park.The sun rays formed patterns on the roads as they tried to pass through outstretched branches and blossom. Now the road is broader( by a few meters) and unfortunately crowded like a beehive all the time( I am sure the trees would have had a hearty laugh if they could see this)...I dont get this. Would you chop peoples' hands , legs or heads off if they caused you spatial congestion.( I hate the man made logic that everything in this universe is created for mans' utility).. May be there is some kind of convenience created but why is it that I cant see the purpose behind this dreadful act. (I was told that timber companies make a profit of more than 20 lakhs per tree, so everytime a tree is felled, some insensitive idiot has more black money in his mattress)

Metro...I believe that a good public transport system is essential for a growing city like Bangalore. My only concern is about the planing (thats so unplanned) causing immense harm to the city. there have been a lot of instances where buildings were torn down, private spaces invaded, Helpless trees chopped off to build a fly over or an under pass that no one uses.It feels like a bunch of mindless morons playing a game of ' Lets see if this works?' where you dont get negative points for every, ' oops! that was a disaster ' move...Think for a few moments if these idiots were doctors operating on your body... Does'nt sound funny eh???
I still remember the under-pass in malleshwaram that took more than 3 years to be constructed and its completely useless...

I sound like I am going to go on a Global warming awarness campaign again... We did not manage to save one tree( thats right! not one teeny weeny tree) in the entire five months of campaigning, blabbering and blah blah blah and yada yada yada...No offence.. we were all a bunch of youngsters - very passionate about the purpose but.... But...we stood there unable to do anything when the whole stretch of trees from High ground police station to Windsor manor bridge just vanished in a matter of two days right in front of our eyes..

The road from south end circle to Basavangudi( i dont know the name of the road but mirra calls it the MaraMara road(treetree road)) is gonna come down cos the Bengaluru mahanagara palike is planning to get metro line on that road. Other roads that will face the same problem are Chord Road from Tolgate to Iskon, the road from Navrang to Malleshwaram underpass( atleast there arent too many trees on this road) , Mg road has faced the consequnces already...
why ? why ?/ why? why this trivial attempt to mention these small changes when Bangalore is upside down and inside out...

The race course is going to be shifted to some place on the outskirts of Bangalore- Yeah!!! Wow they are going to turn it into a garden ? a park full of trees to make up for the loss?
NOOOOOOO...
They are planning to construct the countries' tallest building in this piece of land.. whooopieeee!
How exciting? An ugle enormous structure to bring a smile on everyones' face. A mall is never far away... what more do we need?

I should stop ...
I still take a walk on sankey road or margosa road or quite lanes of malleshwaram ,hanging out in Ctr having a Benne dosa with friends, eating mallige idilis in veena stores , walking through the vegetable market , visiting the old temples ..relishing the last piece of a priceless cake thats left...

Bangalore ! I am going to miss you...

Harmonious architecture

2009-04-06T21:23:00.000-07:00

why write about harmonious architecture?

I don't know.... its been haunting my mind for a long time and its interesting to understand why this thought walks with me .Its amazing that a few memories, packets of information, trivia remain in your thoughts for no specific reason.They make a deeper impression than many others. I don't know if one can relive pain.I remember that there have been a lot of things that have caused pain or extreme happiness but could i relive that moment.
For example i remember a place called rakkasathangadi from my history lessons, a picture of a cat from a pre nursery book( C for cat) or my drawing book from my 2nd standard, a pair of earrings i loved and wore everyday at the age of nine, the chocolate wrapper in my English text book,a bhajan of Anup Jhalota,a song by BMK that my father played on his old record player,a huge watermelon that i ate as a child, the warm kalyanis of srishailam, a misty morning at 4 am as a five year old kid,the little dead sparrow that i buried in my garden, the hop scotch games, train ride from MP to dharmavaram with my father and more, my grandmothers stories, a secret place in our garden where i hid my treasure(marbles,old coins,earrings,and many more priceless things).. the list would go on..

Now back to Harmonious architecture,,,,he he ..
have always been fascinated by architecture..
temples of karnataka...in belur, Haleibedu and we know the rest...
Every cathedral in the UK and how can I forget the cathedral in Cologne...(the one of the most surreal and breathtaking structure) ...
How do i start?
where do i start?

The chakras in the body include mooladhaara,swadishtana,manipura,anahatha,vishudha. agna and sahasra. The different energies that exist at different locations in a human body.It was surprising to know that earlier cathedrals were constructed with a sense of energy balance that is very similar to the chakras. every stone ( natural) is laid keeping its energy in mind.the place where the main priest preaches is the place where all energy converge and his voice is carried through with an ecstatic effect .The measurements of the cathedral are done with acoustics in mind.just like the strings of the veena are designed based on the human vertebrae. As you enter any such structure you could imagine yourself in a completely different space. The enormous structure and as you walk along the path you are on a high and you as you approach the sanctum sanctum sanctorium or the main altar your spirits are elevated .It surprising to understand that this feeling of euphoria can achieved with vibrations and architecture.

sandhya vandana or namaz or a mass..there is a scheduled time. I still love it when a prayer is recited in a mosque around five am or pm... i love to wake up to the sound of temple bells, suprabatham or chants of a temple, or when buddhist chants echo in your ears when u visit a sthupa in srilanka.

Every idol is carved out of a stone understanding the natural energy it carries. every instrument has architectural significance, every asana in yoga , every note in a raaga(shadja,rishaba,gaandhara,panchama,daivatha,nishada..), every musical compostion(pallavi, charana,anupallavi), every piece of poetry( chandassu and meter) and rhythimical structure( yathis,thaalas and jathis)...
they say the universe was created with the sounds that were generated by shivas' damaru..( ai , un , ul ,ruk,ae, uN,Ai , ouch,haya,vara,Ta lan, ya, ma,ga,Na nam...)

Shri chakra.. a geometrical representation of the male and female energies is a the perfect example of how one could use geometrical, mathematical and architectural tools to explore the abstract intangible energy of the universe.

Sindhu Bhairavi

2009-04-06T08:54:00.000-07:00

Jayadevas' Om jayajagadeesha hare...
or astapadi- pralaya payodhi jale....
or... the finale of a dance drama in Bharatnatyam that I was part of...

This raaga just induces devotion...
every religion has used music to draw people ..
The gospel music in cathedrals or pagan structures would let anyone believe in what is preached in the physical proximity of that space.

Music has this ability to manipualte minds, hearts and emotions.
It was very interesting to learn that most of the religious structures are built keeping the acoustics in mind. Every ancient mosque, temple, sthupa,basidi,church,cathedral have been designed with acoustics in mind.The pantheon a huge structure in Rome would carry the sounds of rituals and create vibrations that would transcend souls to an ecstatic level.

( i could write pages about vibrations and music and its influence in this universe- maybe i should)

Just little snippets of information that juggle in my head that have no logical order..

Indian raagas or scales can be undertood and bifercated on various basis.
The notes that are used , the effect of their vibrations .
The first have of the melakarthas are also called Ghana raagas and the second half are komala raagas. I am not sure if the gaandhara, the rishabha or the madhyama is the determining factor.
there are particular raags for different times of the day, for different seasaons, different occasions and different emotions.
The suprabatham is sung in bhowli or mohana- one of the morning raagas.
there are raagas that are used to start your day with a lot of energy and hope.they work on different chakras or energies in the body.
There raagas or recitations when you cook, eat,take bath,when you do the sandhya vandane, when you study, during lunch, breakfast , evenings and sleep.
Are they based on the energy of the sun, the day, the light, the energy that exists in every object around us, the elements, the atoms, the harmones...all of these and more.

Everthing has been discovered by man a few thousand years ago... are we rediscovering things or are we still lagging behind?

There are different raagas for lullabys.. wonder how music can actually induce sleep?
There are raagas that ll make you angry, happy, fall in love, hate, cry,jump with joy and more.
Raag deepak when rendered by Tansen is said to have brought light .
Raag Bahar , basanth bahar,malhar ( i am not sure) would bring rain.

I wonder if the raagas in both Hindustani and carnatic are influnced by geography, topography , seasons and nature as much as the cultural, religious and political invasions.
raag pahaadi, megh malhar would transform u to a higher altitude.would it? are we conditioned to it that way?

the western classical music is deeply rooted in harmony. they have scales based on harmonic notes. Many Indian ragas would not comply with the rules of Western classical music.
It is impossible for them understand a scale that has a komal ri and theevr ni simply cos they are not harmonious. But in Indian raagas we have the element of shruthi and there are sanchaaras ( the way notes travel) and also the liberty of anya swara that allows the existence of numerous raagas.Every raaga is based on identity and individuality and not necessarily rules of man made rules of harmony.
Musicians are constantly creating new raagas, rediscovering old ones and tryong to document every scale that has been created so far.Trying to store the ocean in a small jar.

A freiend once told me that a perfect renditio of raag saveri is not ideal when you are cooking food. It has a very melancholic effect on energies that is not ideal during cooking.

Chants that invoke spirits, intoxicate minds, take you on a high, calm you down are all examples of how everything is influenced by vibrations.

why think so much?

2009-04-06T07:43:00.000-07:00

Do we stop living our hearts as we grow up?
An intellectual approach to life is a sign of growing up?
Is it a sign of maturity?

Played veena on my terrace today .. moonlight, breeze and a lot of peace.
I just want to be the sky..
Do not want to be this girl who is constantly planning ahead... or who is living in her past.
I remember my childhood...when I started Bharatnatyam classes.I could not wait to go to classes and learn adavus, new hasthas and new dance compositions. every day was so fresh, every movement a new discovery , a new planet and a new universe...learning was so much..i loved my guru and she taught me with all selflessness...

when did I start having a schedule?
when did start thinking about making investments and paing taxes on time..?
Why is dancing my purpose?
why is it my path?
when did dancing turn into a mode of achieving something...?
apply for festivals, fundings, courses,, get a degree... get a name.. perform, build on your pr, create pieces that are intellectually stimulating, that make people think...have your own website
and when these goals are not achieved - to feel completely useless...worthless and lost...

when did i start articulating ... why do i have to worry about pronounciation...language.. grammar and more... ?
When did it become important to speak well and express verbally ?
when did i stop writing without thinking too much about grammar?
when did I start to have inhibitions while I pen my thoughts as they flow.. without punctuations...?

Why cant i just love anyone the way it feels natural anymore?
why did the actions of my past become my sins?
why am i expected to watch every step of mine?
when did it become important that i live a life of honor , respect and dignity?
When did it become important that i interact with the right kind of people?
Where do i draw the line of physical proximity?
When did i start thinking about society?

Why ?
Why is my work so much based on thinking?
Why am i not enjoying dancing anymore?
why do i think so much?

Why are my past actions branded as mistakes?
when did the element of loyalty seep into my heart?
why expect in relationships?
why think of the future?
why am i so scared of being bankrupt?

Why do I make sacrifices in love?
why tolerate?
to feel secure?

why is my act of chosing to walk away considered cowardice?
Why do I find reasons to stay in a place where i dont want to be?
Why do i continue to stay when it causes immense pain?
Why hope that the future holds happiness and tolerate the present pain?
Why work for money?
Why dance for survival?

Why do I have to act my age?
Why cant I be a child?
why?
why?

Why have I stopped living every moment?
Why have I stopped dancing without a purpose?
When did my happiness become selfishness?

when did music become all about technique?
Why is dancing all about technique?
why is my life turnning into a technique?

Why do I think so much?
Why have I stopped living?

Ballet - not a piece of cake!

2009-02-22T08:01:00.000-08:00

Do you ever wonder about versatility?
IF you are a real musician would you be able to play or understand every kind of music in the world?
IF you are a REAL Dancer ( the stress on 'real' simply because there is no name for this particular talent) is it very easy to pick up any art form?... should i say, learn other forms of dancing.
Trained in a classical art form, for more than 10 years definitely lays a foundation that is so deep rooted in musicality, rhythm, structure, technique, discipline, tradition,adaptability, performance, presentation.. and more.After Bharatnatyam, the other art forms like mohiniattam,kathak, kalaripayattu, contemporary dance including contact and partnering work seemed pretty easy to learn.Never felt Bharatnatyam was difficult, except that my body was being shaped with pain into a form that suits the art form.
But ... But but but...
Ballet has been my greatest challenge, to easily pick up movements and just to go by the flow of it ,is not a problem at all..like a musician, would easily be able to reproduce a melody he would listen to,without understanding the technicalities of it.
To be blessed with a fantastic Ballet teacher(Yana Lewis) and to meet her after the age of 20 is more of a challenge to learn the art form. Why??? why??? Ballet a classical art form that has its own musicality, rhythm, structure, technique, discipline, tradition,adaptability, performance, presentation to it is not necessarily a piece of cake to understand.
Have noticed that the bodies trained in a particular art form tend to have its own way of behaving..
Its easy to tell a bharatnatyam dancer from the way she would talk or walk.Dance being dependent on body memory penetrates into your bones so much ,that every action is influenced by it.
Ballet for me was a huge challenge. Certain qualities like musicality and rhythm are universal and they do compliment forms of the same category(Cant really generalize)
It is simply impossible for me to do a ballet class without getting the technique right.
Today ,we did pirouettes and i spent more than half an hour just to figure out what mistakes i commit.
Cathy was really sweet . she corrected me in terms of my preparation ( starting in a proper fifth),
the momentum( i use my head more than my body to initiate movement), spotting( i spot well but with variation in momentum, i am screwed),landing( ending in the fifth position and not in a funny second), balance and weight( to pull up like a top) ,initiation( cheating with the back ankle when i rise on my toes ,when i am meant to be staying flat on my foot.landing( without the bum sticking out)
Relax( do not take the tension in any part of the body).
The reason that ballet is such an amazing challenge is because everything is pure technique and I would say that about any classical art form.Mastering the technique is the only way to perfection. No short cuts.Even if you forget one element the other elements just fall apart and there is no way ,one could actually cheat and still get away with ballet.
Dancers make their mistakes ,their signature .
imperfection is what makes us special and unique but training in ballet is definitely not an easy cuppa chai...

Kanda review

2009-02-22T06:28:00.001-08:00

Kanda - Report on Mid Day..

Feb. 22nd, 2009 at 7:55 PM

MID - DAy
Put on your dancin' shoes
By: Vinod Kumar T Date: 2009-02-03

Bangalore: Kanda, the series of ongoing performances by Veena Basavarajaiah and Mirra Arun, had their first show of the current series of workshops at the Shanthi Gallery last evening. Mirra and Veena's white outfits against the children's all black costumes fit perfectly with the black and white photographs of the 10 performers and their parents that were on display.
Mirra and Veena's camaraderie with the children and their on-the-spot improvisation was commendable when a child fell while dancing and hurt her head. Through their adroit moves and experience in handling kids, Mirra and Veena took the performance to another level as their 'magic' helped the child not only emerge from her pain smiling but forget about it. The children added colour to the show as they left their myriad-coloured tiny hand imprints on the white gallery walls.

http://mid-day.com/whatson/2009/feb/030209-Kanda-Veena-Basavarajaiah-Mirra-Shanthi-Gallery-bangalore.htm

Escalator Clause!

2009-02-22T02:53:00.000-08:00

Dance Across Bengaluru

Dancers of the contemporary genre from Bengaluru have been invited to do site specific work. These will be choreographed and performed in venues specific to the concept of the piece.The notion is to bring dance off the stage and into the arenas of life where the issues expressed are of the common condition and for the common man. These dancers speak about the various changes in the city, its people and its culture through their pieces encapsulating the idea of 'the city on the move'.

Veena Basavarajaiah, B.G.Sathyanaraya and Umesh Naidu

'ESCALATOR CLAUSE'
A site specific project named 'ESCALATOR CLAUSE' ,the soulless treadmill of urban existence is designed to be performed on a moving escalator. This piece deals with the issues of competition , challenges , uncertainties , insecurities that a conventional job bestows upon an individual. This piece deals with the irony of growth and development in the modern world that thrives on the escalatorof the economy.The concept and choreography is by Veena Basavarajaiah who is a Bengaluru based dancer who has worked and toured with Uk based dance companies like SJDC & Angika across UK and Europe.The piece will be executed by talented dancers from Nritarutya Collective( Bengaluru) namely B.G.Sathyanarayana a multi faceted dancer and Umesh Naidu a trained martail artist who have performed across the globe as part of the company for more than 8 years. This site -specific work is in collaboration with Bengaluru based dance company Nritarutya.

Time Out Bengaluru
6 February 2009
Veena Basavarajaiah and Nritarutya Veena Basavarajaiah has choreographed a piece titled “Escalator Clause”: it is based on a corporate job clause which specifies that one’s salary will go up or down depending on the upward or downward swing of the economy which draws a comparison to happiness or sadness depending on the economy.
venue
5:00PM

Review- Sammillan- 2007

2009-02-22T02:43:00.001-08:00

Online edition of India's National Newspaper
Monday, Jul 23, 2007
ePaper

Blending Kalari with modern movements

Shilpa Sebastian R.

An ensemble of imagination in space

The show was directed by Ranjan Mullarat
Daring display of a dangerous art

Veena Basavarajaiah

BANGALORE: The heavy rains did not seem to deter people from coming in large numbers to see Sammilan — an ensemble of imagination in space, on Sunday.

The second item was “Milan”, presented by the new star in the dance arena Veena Basavarajaiah. This trained Kalari and Bharatanatya dancer presented the piece “Kanda”, where she danced with Mudra Dhanajay. The piece was danced to a blend of Carnatic classical music fused with western beats. The short piece brought a smile on to your face as Veena and Mudra depicted the various moods of the relationship between a mother and her daughter in a playful manner using simple contemporary movements. Mudra, a second standard student, performed on the stage with great confidence and ease.

Moods of love

The second item presented by Veena was about the moods of love. Her movements to the sarangi tunes and vocals by Fayaz Khan were visually appealing. There is no doubt about how perfect her body line can be, but somehow this piece failed to create an impact. It was as though the soul was missing from her presentation, which was very unlike Veena. Then the audience was treated to a fast-paced Kalari piece called “The Waves People Play”. Choreographed by Veena, the dancers’ bodies moved just as waves on a roaring sea. Music, light and presentation-wise, this was the piece of the evening.

Acrobatic venture

The concluding number was “Tukkam-Suspendre”, an acrobatic venture choreographed by Michel Lestrehan from France.

He is a trained ballet, Kalari and Kathak dancer who runs a school called Prana in France. He blended Kalari with Western style of acrobatics.

It was interesting to see Kalari dancers move to exotic Western music fused with classical tunes, and Kalari “taals” chanted in Malayalam. Some of the acrobatic skills presented kept the audience gasping.

But this piece could have been cut short and made more compact as one felt it was too long.

It was also interesting to see the choreographers trying to break away from the regular, movement vocabulary and embark on an adventurous journey, seeking and creating new lines and shapes in space.

On the whole, the evening did give the audience an idea of how dance too can be fused with modern movement and yet make it look visually aesthetic, telling the audience that art and creativity have no boundaries.

Lights and designs by Prithan Kumar could have been better.

Preview in Time Out 2009

2009-02-22T02:37:00.000-08:00

Vishakh, Mirra and Veena Basavarajaiah

The next time you watch a toddler stumble around a room, navigate through nooks and crannies behind sofas and between chairs, look again closely – there may be an idea or two in there for a choreographer. That was the case with the dancer Mirra [she doesn’t use a second name]. “Mirra was greatly inspired by the movements of her two-year-old son Vishakh while within her womb as well as in confined spaces around the house, and was excited by his awareness and his navigation of the space,” said Veena Basavarajaiah, who is part of the trio that will perform in the city this week.

The inspiration behind their work was in the classes that Basavarajaiah and Mirra run for kids between the ages of three and six, where they use instinctual movements and help kids to understand rhythmic movement, balance, body awareness and co-operation. “The notion that kids only understand if things are dumbed-down is a misconception because these kids need to know exactly why they are doing something otherwise they refuse to engage with the exercises,” said Basavarajaiah. “We use standard techniques like trust exercises, rhythm and balance exercises, as well as a great deal of partner work, to increase self and body awareness.The movement classes, if nothing, teach you to be honest, because you can’t lie to these kids and make up a story to explain away things,” she explained. “We’ve used movements that have developed from the classes, and incorporated them into this piece titled ‘Kanda’.”

“ ‘Kanda’ is primarily about the concept of ‘mother’ and ‘child’ and how these terms have larger means – like ‘mother’ could mean the origin or primary source of stimulus for something, and the ‘child’ is that something that is stimulated by interaction with this source,” she said. “To keep the piece true its form and idea, we have incorporated these instinctual movements and reflexes.”

“The piece is titled ‘Kanda’ because it is the affectionate, colloquial form of a mother calling a child. It also allows the piece to work within the framework of improvisation, and some sense of dance colloquialism – seeing that it is influenced by a child, and the dancers adapt to his movements,” she said. Joshua Muyiwa

Source : Time Out Bengaluru ISSUE 16 Friday, February 20, 2009

Mid-Day- Kanda

2009-02-22T02:02:00.000-08:00

Leap, bound and break free

By: Priyadarshini Chatterjee

Date: 2009-01-29

Bangalore:

At the Kanda workshops, kids aged between three and six, move like their favourite animal, enact stories, play with colours and simply have a blast

Soaring high: There are no choreographed moves that kids need to learn

Mirra Arun first 'felt the moves' when she was pregnant with her now two-year-old son. And that's when she began this 'work in progress' with her then unborn child. She experimented with the kicks and the rolls of the foetus.

That's how Kanda took form.

Veena Basavarajaiah joined in this experiment later because she loves working with children. And together they are taking Kanda (baby, in Kannada), to another level. Through short workshops with children aged between three and six, they explore different aspects of the relationship between two individuals, between individuals and space, individuals and the body, and the uniqueness of it all.

Poetry in motion

"Every time we work with children, we grow as dancers, and as teachers," says Veena.

"Children are a constant source of inspiration and give a lot of happiness. In fact, we are only their facilitators," adds Mirra.

At the current workshop, comprising eight classes, Mirra and Veena are helping to bring out the children's creativity in their individual movements. They began the first session by asking each child to choose their favourite animal. Then each had to 'move' like the animal does-whether it was the stealthy walk of the cat or tiger, the slithering of a snake or the pottering of a penguin.

Facilitators: Mirra Arun and Veena Basavarajaiah are trained dancers

In the following class, Arka Mukhopadhyay, theatre person and poet, had the children move to music and 'touch' things with their head, nose, hand, shoulder and elbow to build spatial awareness. "The idea was to work with the senses and make them connect with space," he says.

He used water as the primary element to enhance focus and enable the children to connect with each other by exchanging their cups of water and building bridges. "They are more in the fundamental than the expressive stage, so I kept it rather basic," he explains.

In the story telling session by Ranjan Kamath, theatre person and activist, the children had to tell their own stories and enact them.

"In each session they are living the experience," says Veena. "We aren't following a curriculum here, because after eight minutes, forget eight sessions, what these kids do is unique."

Time to dance

The workshops will culminate in a performance by the children where they will be given a free hand to play with colours and use the space to express themselves, as they like it, without being bound by choreographed moves.

Power-packed partnership
Mirra, a professional dancer and choreographer trained in yoga and contemporary dance, has been teaching children through a series of workshops for the past six years in schools. Veena is a Bharatnatyam dancer and is leaning kalari payattu, contemporary dance and ballet. They both have international exposure and love working with kids.

Be there!
Kanda, the performance, is at Shanthi Gallery, Shantinagar (next to Yellama Dasappa Hospital) on February 1, 6.30-8.00pm

Swat!

2009-02-21T22:47:00.000-08:00

I cant help but feel helpless about the changes that are bound to happen in the North western region of Pakistan.To sign a deal with Sufi Mohammed agreeing to the introduction of Sharia law would only lead to deteriorating conditions in Swat.
Why has Islam becom synonymous with war, terror and violence?
Taliban terrorizing innocent victims, killing mercilessly for peace, for upholding the essence of their faith.
What would a woman like me do if she was subjected to live in a stuation like this. A sense of independence, the right to expression and freedom to make choices is an integral part of my existence. Would a person like me stand injustice and accept situation overule me?
The Taliban does not allow education for girls and to have dreams of a career or a desire to go to school is inviting capital punishment or death.They are not allowed to sing or dance in public and venture out without a veil and an accompanied male.The punishment for adultery is death by stoning.
Would a person like me survive in this world? Every movement of mine would be restricted, every thought, every action , emotion and wish. To imagine a world where one cannot roam the streets with no fear, where one cannot feel the rain, the sun and the breeze or sing your heart out or dance without inhibitions. A world without desires of falling in love, chosing your partner, seeking knowledge, exploring the world,chosing your path and living your life..
I would rebel and resist and fight ...who?
I have no clue... I am not a woman named mehr or shabnam or zoya , somewhere in Pakistan who is bound to her destiny of imprisonment with no sign of choice to follow her heart.
I am just an artist , a dancer with a choice , with the freedom and space. What can i do ? tell me? what can i do?