I love solitude. Yet, whenever we perform, we come together in ways the audience can never know, and I’m beyond grateful.
This time, it began with a performance that fell through. Our teacher, Guru Mythili Raghavan, was more than a little upset.
Immediately, in stepped Ashwini to organise another performance for us. We would, after all, perform in a temple: Marigold Balaji Temple in Kalyani Nagar.
We continued to practise the way we always do—together.
But then, two weeks ago, I injured my knee, and all our girls reminded me of what makes us *us*. I had tears in eyes as I watched from the sidelines.
One piece was rechoreographed. Everyone’s part changed. Watching it, though, no one would know.
In another piece, two dancers (Nisha and Resham) had to exchange roles.
In a third piece, Manasi stepped in to do my part, despite all her stress of travel and work.
That’s teamwork. Seamless, uncompromising.
My heart was full, but it doesn’t end here.
Our dance circle is so much bigger. In the picture above, we have more: Dhwani (who immediately stepped up to take videos), Anupama (who came with her whole family and with the biggest smiles in the universe) and Anushka (who happened to be in the city and came to watch us all). All part of our close-knit dance world.
And finally, the picture below shows you a larger community, with the next generation of students, all of whom were there to watch.
These pictures don’t even include our immediate families and friends who unfailingly show up each time we perform.
Yes, performances bring with them a kind of euphoria. But for me, the euphoria comes both from the joy of performance and a deep sense of gratitude for a support system united by love and the determination to work together. No competition. No pettiness.
At this moment, despite knee pain and a wish that I could do more, my heart feels the truth of the words of the song my teacher performed on Sunday: kurai onrum illai. I have no complaints. I have everything I could possibly want.
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