Nataynajali Festival, April 7th, 2024, Sacramento – My heart is literally in my throat, beating so fast that I could pass out. But there’s no time to do so! I’m lined up, all dressed in traditional clothing and jewelry from head to toe, standing behind my dance mates, all set to enter the stage under huge spotlights. I am about to participate in Sacramento’s most prominent dance festival, Natyanjali, in the beautiful Capistrano Hall at California State University, Sacramento.
The speakers belt out the music, and it’s time to make the entry. As soon as I hear the beautiful varnam in Telugu and the clanking of the chalangai bells on our feet, all anxiety leaves me, and a sense of calm washes over me. I was on my dream date again – with my only true love, my Ishta devata, my Nataraja, the Lord of Dances, meeting Him through my Bharatnatyam.
The varnam beats start, and the entire world around me disappears. It’s just Him and me now, through a beautiful composition where the devotee expresses her turmoil over being ignored by her love, the Lord of Brihadeeshwara, the majestic Shiva.
While in the Western world, one has to wait an entire year to celebrate dance on International Dance Day, my Hindu ancestors celebrated dance through the shastras or sciences/bodies of knowledge. Our rishis or sages, SMEs in their chosen field, wrote the various Indian classical dance forms called Natya shastras. Bharatnatyam, or the dance of Bharata, was composed by Rishi Bharata and dates back to 500 CE.
I grew up in the Southern Indian state of Tamil Nadu, where I started learning Bharatnatyam when I was only six. Even though it was an intense dance form that demanded perfection from day one, I used to look forward to every class. The discipline, focus, and preciseness of the dance form pushed me and challenged my young mind and body, motivating me to be better in every single class. The guru and her guidance beckoned me to build an emotional, loving relationship founded on a deep respect for my dance. It continues to do so till date.
Om Shri Gurubhyo Namaha ( Salutations to all the gurus)!
But apart from the dance and my guru, I was also mesmerized as a child by the Nataraja murti, an icon we worshiped before starting class. This murti has witnessed almost all my performances in India and the US. The murti also pulled me back to dancing after long breaks due to maternity or crippling back issues. One look at the murti in my pooja altar, and I knew I had to return to dancing, no matter what!
Here is more on the Nataraja murti and why Bharatnatyam dancers worship Nataraja as their Ishta Devata :
https://www.hinduamerican.org/blog/nataraja-cosmic-dancer-symbolism
This love for the icon of Nataraja gained fruition when I visited the Thillai Nataraja temple in Chidambaram, Tamil Nadu, this past January. I remember feeling such excitement and joy, even some trepidation, as I stepped into the temple premises for the first time. I felt a chill rise in my spine, and my skin broke into hives.
Majestic, intricately carved gopurams loomed in all four directions. How tiny and humbled I felt, exactly like how I feel every single time I learn a new, more complex composition in Bharatnatyam, whether a shabdham, a varnam, or a different version of the impossible alarippu. Know the thishra alarippu? Try the chathushraya alarippu now, and you will no longer claim to have perfected alarippu!
After all, it is the dance of the Lord of Lords, Shiva, who created the entire world through his cosmic dance. So, not surprisingly, it challenges the dancer physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
Finally came the walk to the Garba Gruha or Sanctum Sanctorum. The temple administrator ushered us all in a line, beckoning us to be quiet. I heard chants of “Om Namah Shivaya” around me. Oh my! That moment I had been waiting for all my life was soon to come! It felt like a fan girl moment when I finally got to see my hero whom I worshipped all my life. In this case, though, my hero was truly larger than life!
I eventually got a darshan of Thillai Nataraja in the Garba Gruha. HE looked exquisite in His Andava Tandava ( dance of delight) form in the soft light of the oil lamps adorned with colorful indigenous flowers. On that holy sight, my emotions overtook me, and I burst out crying!
My body shook to release all the intense feelings within – excitement and regret, joy and sadness, gratitude and anticipation. I cried like a baby, asking my Ishta Devata why, in this birth, I did not have the fortune of being a full-time professional Bharatnatyam dancer. Why was I pulled to play so many roles that didn’t allow me to be steady and stable in my sadhana or practice? Why was I plagued with back and knee aches that challenged me from the perfect abhinayas or expressions?
But soon, in HIS divine home, all this grief changed to gratitude. Gratitude for still being able to dance, no matter what! I am grateful for a body that heals, a sharp mind, and a heart full of desires for my chosen spiritual quest of Bharatnatyam. How fortunate was I to have a healthy body, to find a guru no matter where I go, to be surrounded by loving, motivating dance communities, and to have opportunities to perform?
I left the temple later that night with a deep sense of peace and acceptance. My Bharatnatyam will be with me no matter where I go or how much I age, for it’s beyond the physical dance. It is my dharma and my bhakti.
Bharatnatyam’s music is home to me. I was born to a professional Carnatic musician and listened to the beats of my dance from day one in my mother’s womb. Amma performed until her last tri-semester when she could no longer sit cross-legged on the stage for her concerts.
Bharatnatyam combines my mother’s music, upbringing, ancestral knowledge, Sanskriti or culture, and dharma. It is all of me, my ancient land of Bharat or India, and its everlasting beauty. Most importantly, it is a deep meditation, rooting me in myself.
Returning to the Natyanjali festival, as I danced from korvai to korvai, from abhinaya to abhinaya in the beautiful varnam “Manavi” along with my dance mates, I took one more step ahead in my spiritual journey as a dancer. For just one year back, I was bedridden due to a severe back spasm. My love for Bharatanatyam and single-minded determination to continue to dance brought me back.
Without my dance, I don’t know who I am anymore.
Without my dance, I don’t know what’s home.
Without my dance, I have nothing to aspire for across lifetimes!
This past year has been a testimony to this solemn truth. It was steeped in self-care, whether Ayurvedic treatments in Kerala, India, or consistent weekly yoga practice to strengthen my muscles. But most of all, it was my Nataraja, whose unlimited blessings and compassion brought me back to my dance moves.
For without His will and grace, can even a blade of grass move?
Om Namah Shivaya.