As the dark thundering clouds

    Quench the thirst of the 

         Soft brown earth

The lotus pond blooms

      Seducing the bees

          Intoxicating them

  With their luscious golden nectar 


Emerald and turquoise waters

 Golden sun dancing upon its waves

All of eternity is felt

In one fleeting ephemeral moment


A backdrop of ancient history 

Its trajectory carved in stone

Is the entwined journey of a dancer Feet, breath, emotions

Drumming to a universal rhythm 

Dance ur dance through me  O warrior 

One as we are, in flesh and stone 


mobil pics 832                           Musings on Dance

Dance is self reflection…

As a mirror to my innermost being, it makes me aware and conscious of who i really am.

Being an artist is a risk….

It is the risk of the unknown, to learn something new, we need to unlearn old patterns which limit us

To dance is to share…

To share the deepest part of me is to have an authentic connection with my audience

To dance is pure joy…

To be in the present moment, not withholding oneself back, dance there’s no tomorrow….

My beautiful grandmother:

mobil pics 662

As i was aligning my treasured collection of books this morning, i stumbled upon this charming vintage picture of my Aji. Graceful, refined, sublime are mere adjectives, which i feel do not do justice to her timeless appeal. The memory my mind immediately conjures up is that of her shapely hand gripping mine and gradually tracing each alphabet, like a calligraphy artist. She taught me the art of letter writing and we spent many summers writing long letters to family and friends. She bought beauty and grace even to the most mundane daily tasks. Raised by the royal family of Jamkhandi, who lived in Kolhapur, she lived a privileged life, which in a way prepared her for her future as an army officers wife. She blended in that life like a heady mix of cocktail, intoxicated by its endless soirees, mahjong afternoons and a game of tennis in the evenings..

Coming from a progressive family, she was the first woman graduate in the mid 30’s, spoke three languages and wrote passionately. Having blessed with an eye and a love for the arts, she passed on this passion of hers to me and ensured i was trained in dance and music. Some of the cherished remnants of her beautiful life were passed on to me. Her silver filigree comb and hairbrush takes me back to the past..through the sands of time, to a land of grandeur and splendor.

As a child i enjoyed listening to her endless stories and admiring her vast collection of B&W photographs and strutting in front of the mirror in her high gold heels. While delicate chiffons with splashes of hot pink and sunset oranges bathed her body, the milky white pearls accentuated her porcelain complexion, making her look every inch the princess i thought she was. It was she who taught me to value discipline and integrity above all and to always nurture my creative spirit. Though paralysed, she lived to a ripe age of 90 and showed exceptional will power to keep learning and to pursue a mentally active life. Every performance of mine dear Aji is dedicated to you and i know you will always continue to inspire me and keep my inner lamp burning bright..